dismissed his most recent mistress after proposing to Emily and hadn’t yet replaced her. So the cottage remained vacant. Its staff was accustomed to ignoring whatever occurred under its roof. And it was far enough from Mayfair that gossip would spread slowly.
He would use false names, though, and wouldn’t mention Georgiana to Charles.
“Where is this cottage?” asked Georgiana once they passed Hyde Park.
“A couple miles back. But I have to get permission to use it – which means finding Charles.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Probably White’s. Pull that hat down to shade your face,” he murmured into her ear. “You will have to hold the horse while I’m inside. Pretend to be a groom.”
He turned up St. James’s Street, his eyes searching the shadows for anyone he knew. So far they were in luck. It was after midnight, but the balls had not yet ended, and the farce was still under way at the theaters. In another hour the street would be mobbed as gentlemen converged on the clubs, but for now it was quiet. Only two carriages moved toward him, with another parked in front of Brooks’s. The bow window at White’s was empty, and the street denizens were not yet out in force. Most waited until they had their pick of inebriated targets.
He ducked into a narrow passage between buildings and dismounted.
“Steady,” he murmured, setting Georgiana on her feet. She was so stiff she nearly fell.
“What do I do?”
“Stay against the wall so the horse shields you from view. Don’t talk to anyone.”
She nodded, accepting the reins.
“I will be back as soon as possible.” He strode away, praying that Charles was inside. The last thing he needed was to make a round of the brothels. Charles patronized several. Or he might have changed his mind and accepted one of the invitations that still arrived by the dozen every day. It would be another month before the Season wound down.
But his luck held. Charles was leaning over the hazard table – just as Richard had found him a week earlier. At least this time he wasn’t drunk.
He waited until Charles lost the throw, then tapped him on the shoulder. “I need a moment,” he murmured.
Charles raised his brows, but followed without a word.
“What?” he asked once they reached an empty corner of the reading room.
“Is your Kensington cottage still vacant?”
Charles nodded.
“May I use it for a few days?”
“Of course.” But his eyes widened. Richard never begged favors.
“Thank you. When you write to the butler, please omit my name.”
“Curious.” Charles moved to a writing table and pulled out a piece of paper. “You’ve been odd all day.”
“I’m avoiding Herriard.”
“Ah. I thought I recognized that bellow in church this morning. What the devil does he want?”
Richard hesitated, but Charles was too stiff-rumped to risk the truth. “He may have learned about my meeting at Lords next week.”
“So you found the evidence.”
“And an unimpeachable witness. I’ve an appointment on Monday.”
“If you live that long.”
“Exactly. Herriard enlisted Stagleigh’s help to find me. I don’t want them bothering Mother. She was ready to collapse by the time she headed home this afternoon.”
“True. Should I mention that you’ve moved out of Hughes House?”
Richard nodded. “Casually. I’ve left town now that Emily is settled.”
“Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Of course.” Not that he could involve Charles any further. He would demand marriage if he learned of today’s escapade with Georgiana.
He couldn’t wed her. Period.
But he couldn’t help fretting over her, he admitted as he hurried toward the walkway. Not until he found her unscathed did he recognize the fear that had been knotting his shoulders.
Swearing under his breath, he shoved the letter into his pocket. In moments they were back on the horse and heading for Kensington.
— 6 —
On Monday morning Georgiana
He would use false names, though, and wouldn’t mention Georgiana to Charles.
“Where is this cottage?” asked Georgiana once they passed Hyde Park.
“A couple miles back. But I have to get permission to use it – which means finding Charles.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Probably White’s. Pull that hat down to shade your face,” he murmured into her ear. “You will have to hold the horse while I’m inside. Pretend to be a groom.”
He turned up St. James’s Street, his eyes searching the shadows for anyone he knew. So far they were in luck. It was after midnight, but the balls had not yet ended, and the farce was still under way at the theaters. In another hour the street would be mobbed as gentlemen converged on the clubs, but for now it was quiet. Only two carriages moved toward him, with another parked in front of Brooks’s. The bow window at White’s was empty, and the street denizens were not yet out in force. Most waited until they had their pick of inebriated targets.
He ducked into a narrow passage between buildings and dismounted.
“Steady,” he murmured, setting Georgiana on her feet. She was so stiff she nearly fell.
“What do I do?”
“Stay against the wall so the horse shields you from view. Don’t talk to anyone.”
She nodded, accepting the reins.
“I will be back as soon as possible.” He strode away, praying that Charles was inside. The last thing he needed was to make a round of the brothels. Charles patronized several. Or he might have changed his mind and accepted one of the invitations that still arrived by the dozen every day. It would be another month before the Season wound down.
But his luck held. Charles was leaning over the hazard table – just as Richard had found him a week earlier. At least this time he wasn’t drunk.
He waited until Charles lost the throw, then tapped him on the shoulder. “I need a moment,” he murmured.
Charles raised his brows, but followed without a word.
“What?” he asked once they reached an empty corner of the reading room.
“Is your Kensington cottage still vacant?”
Charles nodded.
“May I use it for a few days?”
“Of course.” But his eyes widened. Richard never begged favors.
“Thank you. When you write to the butler, please omit my name.”
“Curious.” Charles moved to a writing table and pulled out a piece of paper. “You’ve been odd all day.”
“I’m avoiding Herriard.”
“Ah. I thought I recognized that bellow in church this morning. What the devil does he want?”
Richard hesitated, but Charles was too stiff-rumped to risk the truth. “He may have learned about my meeting at Lords next week.”
“So you found the evidence.”
“And an unimpeachable witness. I’ve an appointment on Monday.”
“If you live that long.”
“Exactly. Herriard enlisted Stagleigh’s help to find me. I don’t want them bothering Mother. She was ready to collapse by the time she headed home this afternoon.”
“True. Should I mention that you’ve moved out of Hughes House?”
Richard nodded. “Casually. I’ve left town now that Emily is settled.”
“Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Of course.” Not that he could involve Charles any further. He would demand marriage if he learned of today’s escapade with Georgiana.
He couldn’t wed her. Period.
But he couldn’t help fretting over her, he admitted as he hurried toward the walkway. Not until he found her unscathed did he recognize the fear that had been knotting his shoulders.
Swearing under his breath, he shoved the letter into his pocket. In moments they were back on the horse and heading for Kensington.
— 6 —
On Monday morning Georgiana
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