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What struck Georgina as odd was that the man who’d pushed her wore torn, dirty clothing but smelled clean. Like fresh laundered linen. She hadn’t really gotten a good look at his face; her only impression was that he’d worn a plaid coat with bits of hay and dirt clinging to the sleeves and a broad-brimmed hat.
It was an accident.
Harold had his money, or rather Leo’s money. She’d instructed Lind to give it to him and to casually mention she said she was leaving for France. Or Italy. There was no reason for Harold to look for her in America or look for her at all.
Ben knew about Harold and the attempt on her life at Beechwood Court. He’d told her in a calm tone that a more permanent solution might be required for Lord Masterson should he have the poor sense to follow Georgina to New York.
Georgina assured Ben that Harold wasn’t that stupid.
“Come, we’ll be late.” He set down his glass. “Cordelia will have my head if we make a grand, late entrance and draw attention from her. Which you’re bound to do in that gown.”
Georgina smoothed down the folds of velvet as Ben placed a wrap over her shoulders. The night was cool, but not cold. The inside of the opera house would be such a crush, she’d have no need for anything heavier.
“I know you consider Harold to be smart enough not to follow you to New York, but what about Leo Murphy?” His hands landed on her shoulders.
Georgina grew still. “Leo Murphy?”
“Yes. Daniel’s father.”
Her first thought was to ask her cousin how he knew the identity of Daniel’s father, because she’d not mentioned Leo by name, not once. But Ben had taken a trip to London while they’d all been in England together and been gone a fortnight before returning to her and Lilian.
“I know who he is,” she said quietly. “I asked you specifically to leave it alone, as I recall. I didn’t tell you about him for a reason. You have a habit of poking about in other people’s business. Especially mine.”
“Would that I had done so before you ran outside with Winbow that night while the rest of us were dancing.”
“You weren’t dancing. You were stealing a kiss from Miss Cortland.”
“True.” His lips twitched. “Lovely bit of baggage was Miss Cortland. She’s married now. An older gentleman from Albany, I’ve heard. But you are right, Murphy is nothing like Harold. Bastard son of a duke. Impressive from a business standpoint. Elysium accounts for the smallest part of his wealth. Were you aware?”
“I was not,” she whispered. Why would Ben bring up Leo now?
“I would have thought you’d rid him of those terrible waistcoats.”
“You vastly overestimate my influence on Mr. Murphy. Whatever prompted you to scratch around in the dirt, Ben, I want it to stop. That part of my life I have blessedly left behind in England. There is no need for me to revisit it.”
“Don’t be cross, George.”
“Then cease poking about. Leo Murphy and I had a brief, pleasant affair. We were friends of a sort, as I was with his brother, Lord Welles, but nothing more. He was a way for me to pass the time while in London. Leo doesn’t form attachments, him being a bastard and all.” She tilted her chin, furious to even be having such a discussion, especially when she had to spend the evening sparring with her mother. “He lost interest in me some time ago. Well before Daniel was born.” The lie came smoothly off her tongue. “If he knew I’d had a child, I assure you, he wouldn’t care.”
Why must Leo haunt her thoughts? He had nearly all day. First, at Lilian’s, and then now, in what should be the safety of her own parlor.
“Or be furious at you for hiding a child from him. Which I think you’re more concerned about.”
Georgina looked away. “You don’t know him.”
“True. I don’t. Not personally. I made sure to stay out of his line of vision when I visited Elysium.”
Damn Ben.
“But I think a gentleman who went toallthe expense and subterfuge to ensure you had Beechwood Court and an income isn’t the same sort ofbastardwho would casually toss you aside. Or a child.Thatsort of man will want his son, George. I’m not sure what happened between you and Leo Murphy, nor do I need the details.”
“Good. I’ve no intention of recounting them to you. He won’t come to New York. Besides having no reason to—”
Ben raised a brow.
“—Leo is deathly afraid of water. He won’t even cross the Channel to France. He’s hardly apt to board a ship to New York.”
“Very well, George. I concede. No more talk of Leo Murphy. You are correct that it is only women who are known for changing their minds.” He stuck out his elbow. “Shall we?”
