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“Your brother told you of our meeting yesterday,” he began.
“Not willingly, but yes. Reggie has always been wildly transparent. It didn’t take long for him to admit that he had hired you to spy on me.”
“I wouldn’t quite put it that way,” Henry demurred, but this was entirely the wrong approach.
She raised a bronze eyebrow. “Oh? Howexactlywould you put it then?” she asked with deadly sarcasm.
He could have told her then and there that he hadn’t accepted the case. And had no intention of doing so. But he didn’t.
“Well, I wouldn’t call it spying. Your brother expressed worry over your safety and asked me to investigate any threats. Your anger is unfounded.”
Unfortunately, this did not have the desired effect of placating her. “How dare you,” she hissed. “You have norightto dictate how I should feel. And my brother should have come to me first. Not gone behind my back and hired you without my explicit consent.”
Again, the voice in his head urged Henry to clarify that he had not taken the case. And again, Henry ignored it. “My apologies. I…I can see why that would be upsetting,” he admitted.
Lady Arlington’s expression softened ever so slightly before the frown returned even deeper than before. “Good. Then we understand each other.” She began to rise. “I will tell Reggie that this was all a misunderstanding. Send any bill his visit and mine have incurred to my office,” she said airily with a flick of her wrist, as if she were brushing off a piece of lint. Something worthless and insignificant. “I will leave the address with your secretary.”
Perhaps if she hadn’t been so high-handed Henry could have controlled himself, but like hell would he sit there and be roundly dismissed by her. The woman who had breezed through his life once before and left a trail of smoldering ash in her wake.
“I don’t think so, my lady,” he called out as she moved toward the door. Lady Arlington paused and glanced back at him over her shoulder. Though her eyes spoke only of distaste, Henry could not look away.
“Excuse me?”
He placed his palms on his desktop and rose. “I was hired by Reginald Fox, and I answer only to him. If you want this investigation called off, you will need to take that up with your brother.”
Her mouth dropped open for a brief moment, and Henry felt a surge of delight. He had surprised her. It was pathetic how good it made him feel. “In any case, your cooperation won’t be necessary. But if you want your life disrupted as little as possible, I suggest you stay at home for the next few days while I begin.”
Lady Arlington’s lush mouth tightened ever so slightly before she continued. “And why would I need to stay home?”
“Because then I won’t have to follow you.”
She shot him a cool glare before sweeping out of the room without another word, her exit punctuated by the slam of the door. Henry smiled as he took his seat and leaned back in his chair.
Lady Georgiana Arlington. Still as beautiful as ever. And still full of damnable pride.
Henry would take this case. He would investigate any threats made and ensure her safety for a pretty penny.
All while making it perfectly clear that her decision to marry for a title had not devastated him.
Not one bit.
Chapter Two
As Georgiana charged out of Captain Harris’s office, her anger grew with every step until it threatened to split her right down the middle. It wasn’t until she was safely ensconced in her carriage and had snapped the curtains shut that she had been able to focus on anything other than the bewildering mixture of heat and fury coursing through her. Since last evening when Reggie admitted his ridiculous scheme during a family supper with their sister Louisa and her husband, Georgiana had been consumed by hurt and embarrassment. No one understood why she was so upset by the mere mention of Captain Harris, and Georgiana had no desire to explain her past humiliation to them. How the man she had once fallen for so readily, so easily, had turned out to be nothing more than a callous fortune hunter. And now he actually planned topursue this case.
Georgiana slumped against the velvet cushions. She had gone to his office that morning hoping to appeal to his sense of honor. And, all right, to indulge her curiosity. Like nearly everyone else in the country, she had read the scores of articles that had been published lauding his heroic actions in Turkey: how he had been on leave in Constantinople and intervened when a pair of innocent British architecture students mistakenly entered a military building and were accused of spying. Captain Harris had tried to explain the misunderstanding, but one was shot and killed in the struggle, while he and the other man were thrown in prison. Eventually Captain Harris mounted an escape to save his fellow countryman, who had fallen ill. They made it back to his ship, but the young man didn’t survive. There was no doubt that he had acted bravely and deserved every inch of newsprint dedicated to praising his actions.
Her dear friend Sylvia had also spent some time with the captain, as he was a good friend of her husband, and spoke highly of him. Surely he could be reasoned with. And perhaps, in a very tiny corner of her heart, Georgiana wondered if that long ago spark could be revived once more. If perhaps she hadn’t been deceived. If there reallyhadbeen something between them. Something rare and precious.
When he had first stepped into his office, it was as if all the air had gone out of the room. He moved more slowly than she remembered but with a subtle, stately confidence that was undeniably attractive, and Georgiana could have sworn his amber eyes heated with an aching familiarity as they swept over her. But then he opened his mouth and acted as ifshehad inserted herself back into his life in the most invasive way possible. Where was the winsome young man she had met on her godmother’s terrace all those years ago? The one who had so tempted her to turn her back on the expectations of her family?
She had come to London from Kent on a mission: secure a proposal from the most desirable bachelor she could find. It was her duty as the eldest daughter in her family. While other young ladies might have been appalled by such a prospect, Georgiana wasn’t a romantic. Her father was a successful stockbroker, but he had five children, including three girls. And though Georgiana’s mother had come from an old family with aristocratic roots, at the time of her parents’ meeting they were living in genteel poverty. Mr. Fox had, unfortunately, married his wife for love, not money. That had led to a blissful home life for over a decade before she passed, but it meant that there wasn’t much for the girls’ dowries.
So it was up to Georgiana to pave the way for her younger sisters. If she made an advantageous marriage to a wealthy man, she could secure all their futures. Rather than consider what she might be giving up by participating in such a cynical scheme, Georgiana did what she had been doing all her life: She put her family first. And there was no better accomplice than her godmother, Lady Harrington, or Aunt Paloma, as she insisted on being called. She had come out the same season as Georgiana’s mother and landed herself a fabulously wealthy, much older earl. The late Lord Harrington had been gone for many years now, but his legacy lived on in the two strapping sons that Aunt Paloma treated like princes. Since Peregrine, the eldest, was already engaged to a duke’s daughter, Georgiana had initially thought she would be paired with Tobias, the younger son, but Aunt Paloma subtly hinted that she was saving him for a girl with much bluer blood than her own.
A more sensitive girl might have been upset, but Georgiana understood. To aristocrats marriage was a kind of game, one that required strategy and a fair bit of ruthlessness. Georgiana didn’t consider herself particularly mercenary, but if it helped her family, she had no qualms about doing whatever it took to win.
And that had meant dancing with Viscount Arlington, who was nearly twenty years her senior. He was a handsome but dark and forbidding man who had barely looked at her until just before their waltz ended, when he leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Your godmother was right. Your fleshly charms more than make up for such a middling bloodline. I will call on you this week.”
