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Miss Schuller blushed a bit more. She was a lovely girl with doe-like eyes giving her the appearance of a fawn. Miss Schuller was also a notorious gossip. Her small tidbits of information about society in Manhattan had been instrumental in helping him learn more about Georgina. Leo had claimed a brief acquaintance with Lady Masterson, whom he’d met in London at a ball. All rubbish, of course.
Miss Schuller ate up every word.
Her father, Mr. Adam Schuller, owned a bank, one of the few that hadn’t collapsed during the recent financial upheaval. When Leo had deposited a large sum, he immediately drew Mr. Schuller’s attention who in turn invited Leo to dine. Miss Schuller had been presented along with the roasted chicken and potatoes.
“Will you be staying for the performance tonight, Mr. Murphy? I confess I only know a few words in Italian.” Miss Schuller flirted shamelessly, turning so he could admire her bosom. “Do you speak the language?”
“Alas, no.”
When Leo had asked about Georgina, casually over the second course while dining with the Schuller’s, the first words Miss Schuller had spoken werebold as brass.
Ignoring the pointed look from her father, Miss Schuller had whispered to Leo that Georgina’s hasty marriage had surprised no one in society. The only shock had been she’d somehow managed to marry a titled English lord.
His little American had been getting into trouble for years, it seemed, her rebellious streak not limited to scathing retorts and daring necklines.
“A scandal involving, of all things, a riverboat gambler,”Miss Schuller had continued.“I believe from Savannah. Possibly Charleston. Somewhere south of here. At any rate, he was found dead sometime later, right after Georgina left for England, to no one’s surprise. A gentleman like that doesn’t last very long in New York.”
The gambler had been found dead in an alley, shot right through the marked deck resting in the pocket above his heart. He’d cheated someone.
“Georgina married an earl,” Miss Schuler had said. “So I don’t suppose it turned out too poorly for her. Oh, I shouldn’t gossip about such things, Mr. Murphy. I fear I’ve overstepped.”
So Georgina had an affinity for gambling and drinking spirits, one she’d come by long before meeting Leo. A liking that had caused her to be careless and gotten her wed to Masterson. Leo only wondered if Jacob Rutherford had shot the gambler himself.
“I hope you’ll join us in our box for the performance, Mr. Murphy.”
Christ, she was so bloody hopeful.Miss Schuller’s interest and that of her father would wane dramatically were they to know he was the bastard son of a duke. There were many differences between New York and London, but he was sure the taint of illegitimacy was the same at least among the people drinking champagne at Cordelia’s opera house.
“Mrs. Rutherford.” Miss Schuller dipped her chin in the direction of Georgina’s mother. “Our hostess for this evening. All of this,” she waved a small hand, “is her doing. She’s a Van Matre.”
Leo nodded as if the name should mean something to him.
“Barely a ship leaves the harbor without Jacob Rutherford’s approval. At least, that’s what my father says.” Miss Schuller paused. “Importing and exporting.”
“Ah, yes. The parents of Lady Masterson.” Leo pretended he’d only just remembered.
“She doesn’t use her title. Georgina, I mean.” Miss Schuller’s brow wrinkled. “Not since her return from London. She prefers to be addressed as Mrs. Masterson.” She lowered her voice. “Truthfully, she probably would rather use Miss Rutherford again.”
“How odd.” But not surprising. Georgina wasn’t impressed with titles.
“I find it rather silly, Mr. Murphy. If I were a countess, I would certainly want everyone to address me as such. But I’ve known Georgina since we were girls. She’s always done as she pleased.”
Yes, she certainly has.
His fingers twitched against his coat just thinking of seeing Georgina. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to fuck her or strangle her.
“Was my father’s agent helpful in your property search?”
“Indeed. I’ve just leased a home near Spring Street.”
“How wonderful.” Miss Schuller’s fingers fluttered lightly on his arm. She wasn’t the least subtle. “A perfect address, Mr. Murphy. One of the newer neighborhoods. I’m very familiar with the area.” She hinted for Leo to ask her to show him around, which he avoided by grabbing another glass of champagne.
“Oh, dear.” Her fingers tightened on his sleeve. “Our prodigal countess is here. I wasn’t sure she would come tonight. I can’t believe she would wear a dress so—”
Marvelous.
That was the first word Leo thought at catching sight of Georgina in a spectacular crimson gown decorated with bits of jet. The velvet clung to her, similar in cut to the gown she’d worn the last time he’d seen her. The bits of jet edging her dangerously low neckline dangled enticingly over her breasts as she walked, drawing every male eye in the room.
Including his.
