The Duke's Hellion Read online

  She was just beginning to relax when there was a brisk knock at the drawing-room door, and a footman told her that her father wished to speak with her.

  "Oh, Uncle Peter is up? I should go to him as well..." Tabi set aside her research and started to rise, but the footman shook his head regretfully.

  "I'm sorry, Miss Kingsley, but the duke was very particular. He only wished to see his daughter."

  That sent a trace of unease down Georgiana's spine, and she rose. She shook off the feeling that told her she was going to an execution and smiled at Tabi and Eleanor.

  "I will give him both of your regards. It will be fine."

  As Georgiana walked through the halls, a stray thought crossed her mind. Fox Hall was where she had been a child and a very young woman. She had danced and played in the corridors, loved the way the light came in the windows and how warm the polished wood floors were beneath her bare feet first thing in the morning.

  The girl I was is gone now. She's gone as if she died, so what is this place to me now?

  It was a shocking thought, but the truth was there at the center of it. Some part of her was gone forever. It had to go to make way for the woman she was now, and she was not sorry, but a tiny part of her mourned its passing.

  Her thoughts were already dark before she approached her father's bedroom. When she knocked, his brisk voice told her to enter. From the bright hallway she had been in, Georgiana was plunged into a dim room where the only illumination came from a pair of narrow windows on the far wall. It took her a few moments to adjust to the new dimness, and then she saw her father seated at a chair close to the windows, wrapped in a blanket.

  "You wanted to see me, Father?"

  "Come closer."

  His voice was clipped and short, more that of a man commanding an army than one who was speaking with his only daughter. Georgiana felt that flutter of worry in her chest grow more pronounced as she approached him.

  "What in the hell are you doing running around the countryside with the damned Duke of Parrington?"

  His voice was so clipped and demanding that it shocked Georgiana. She might have become used to being the topic of gossip both envious and malicious, but she was unused to this kind of harshness, especially from the man who had once cared for her so very kindly.

  "I had wanted to visit Lady Morgan Chesterfield, and since the duke knew her..."

  Peter Martin's fist crashed down on the table next to him, causing a small teacup to jump from its surface to shatter to on the floor.

  Georgiana took a step back before she could help herself.

  "Father!"

  "Don't you feed me that nonsense, girl! You have no damned idea who Lady Ashby is, and even if you did, you'd have no reason in the world to speak with her. Tell me at once what you were doing with Carrow. I swear to all the world, if you have been shaming our name...!"

  "Father, please, I have been doing nothing of the sort, I swear. I wouldn't."

  To Georgiana's shock, her father tried to rise from his chair. He had been ill for so long that he wavered, his weight pressed into one hand that gripped the chair's arm in a death grip.

  It was easy, in the face of his current affliction, to forget that the Duke of Southerly had once been a very tall, very broad man. He was hunched and crabbed, but still dreadfully imposing and even threatening.

  "Your brother and I might be counted rakehells of the worse order, but my own daughter, tearing around the countryside as if her skirts were fit only to be raised by—"

  Georgiana's brain had frozen. She could barely comprehend the fury in her father's voice, let alone the terrible insult he was offering her. A dozen thoughts skittered through her brain at once. She should storm out because no one was allowed to speak to her like this. She should steady him because he looked as if he was going to fall. She should shout at him as he was shouting at her. She should fetch Tabi, who always seemed to have such a good rapport with the Duke of Southerly, even when neither of his wastrel children could manage.

  None of that happened, because just then, the door crashed open.

  * * *

  Chapter 27

  Tristan didn't mean to eavesdrop, or at least that's what he told himself. However, he had just been going to look for Georgiana when he caught a glimpse of her being escorted by a footman, a look on her face as if she was walking to the gallows.

  He realized quickly that there was only one person in the entirety of Fox Hall that could make her look like that, and frowning, he trailed along behind.

  I'll only wait for her to come out. If she needs someone to talk to, or more likely, if she needs someone to shout at, I daresay I'm the ideal candidate.

  The first sign he had that something was going wrong was the crash of china, followed by Georgiana's shocked cry. The elder Martin was working himself up to a fine rage, and when it sounded as if he was going to say something terrible to Georgiana, Tristan couldn't bear it any longer.

  Before he knew what he was doing, he had thrown the door open and stormed in.

  "Hold your tongue! You will not speak to her like that!"

  The Duke of Southerly, to Tristan's eyes, was a pathetic figure who was doing everything he could to keep some vestige of his power. Despite how crabbed the man was, Georgiana had shrunk back from him as if he were a viper, and Tristan felt a deep and abyssal rage open up in him that anyone should make her look like that.

  "Carrow. You are not going to come into my house and tell me how I should handle my own daughter."

  Tristan raked him with a scathing look. "My lord, I equal you in rank, land, and standing, and I will speak to you as I deem fitting and just. Your daughter is a fine woman and a kind person, and she does not deserve the abuse you are preparing to heap on her."

  Lord Martin wavered on his feet, and Tristan could see how very unsteady he was. It looked like the old lord was keeping himself erect out of rage and spite, and his were full of venom.

  "Damn you, you are the very spitting image of your father—"

  "And he was a decent man who would never speak of his own children the way you are speaking of your daughter. Georgiana is one of the bravest and cleverest women I have ever met, no less clever or brave than your son, and it sickens me to hear you say this about her. If you are going to speak to her like this, you don't deserve to have her."

  Lord Martin looked quite purple in the face, and he glared at Tristan so hard it looked like he wanted to spit at him.

  "You will mind your own business, Parrington. She is my daughter, and I will speak to her as I please."

  "If you knew even half of what she was going through—"

  "Tristan!"

  Tristan was brought up short by Georgiana's startlingly anguished cry. He turned to see her with her arms strapped across her waist, staring at the both of them with undisguised horror in her eyes.

  "Stop this, both of you, stop this at once. Please, I cannot take it."

  Lord Martin's gaze passed between the two of them, angry and suspicious and remorseless all at once. He sat down heavily in his chair again, shaking his head and with such a look of disgust on his face that even Tristan winced. He couldn't imagine how it would feel to have his own father, no matter how distant the man had been, look at him like that.

  "Disgusting. Bold as brass and with a spine like porridge. Get out, both of you. Get the hell out of my room. I may need to suffer such a daughter in public, but I shall not suffer her now."

  For a moment, Georgiana looked as if she was going to cry, but then she straightened up to her full height. Tristan was fascinated by the expression on her face, which was as stern and clear as marble. She looked like a sculpture of Truth, come to wreck its will on all before her.

  "I am very sorry that you feel that way, Father. It is unkind and what you believe about me is untrue."

  She turned on her heel and strode out the door, and after a heartbeat, Tristan followed her. He could feel the pain that radiated from her as if it was heat, and all h
e wanted was to catch her up in his arms and hold her. He would have done that the moment the door to the detestable Lord Martin's room shut behind them, but she turned to him, still remote and cold.

  "You should not have interfered."

  "I shouldn't have? He was getting ready to call you a—"

  "I know very well what he was getting ready to call me. He is my father, and we are in his house."

  "You can't be serious. You regularly spit in the eye of the ton, and he is only a bitter old man in a chair."

  "He is my father, Tristan. I should think of all people that you would understand that."

  In the back of his mind, Tristan thought it was oddly hysterical that they had taken each other’s family traits on so well. She had a cold and a calm that any Carrow would envy, and he felt as crazed and furious as a Martin might.

  Is this what they feel like all the time? No wonder they are so prone to run mad.

  "All I understand is that he was abusing you for no good reason, and—"

  Before he could get the rest of the words out, Georgiana seized him by the wrist and dragged him into a nearby room. It was another bedroom, shrouded in white sheets. The only piece of furniture left uncovered was a vanity mirror hung on the wall, and from the scrolled and dainty style, Tristan could tell that it was designed for a woman. With a pang, he realized that Georgiana had brought him into her mother's room, though she did not seem affected.

  "Are you seriously going to give the blackmailer yet more ammunition to use against me, against us?"

  Tristan winced at her sharp words, and then he nodded reluctantly. "I'm sorry. I suppose I had forgotten what was at stake."

  "For both of us, don't forget."

  Tristan nodded. The letter was equally damning to them both, but in this kind of affair, the woman always got off worse than the man did. He might be shunned from society for a while, perhaps made to keep only to his house and Parliament during the season, but Georgiana might find herself shunted from London society entirely.

  "I'm sorry, and I will endeavor to hold my tongue better in the future. But Georgiana, he will not say such things about you in front of me and think that there are no consequences."

  Georgiana's cool and stern mask slipped for just a moment, and underneath were emotions so deep and wild that Tristan's breath was taken away. Far from being indifferent, she was a rolling storm and then she was calm again.

  "Thank you for your support, but I do not need you at all."

  With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Tristan alone in a dead woman's bedroom. After a moment, he swore and followed her, feeling a deep and yawning echo in his chest without knowing why.

  * * *

  Chapter 28

  Georgiana folded her clothes tidily and tucked them into her traveling bag. Nothing bright or ostentatious, nothing that would make her stand out. There was jewelry tucked into the bottom and a handful of banknotes secured throughout the pack. Then she put the bag into the back of her closet and made her way downstairs for dinner.

  She was grateful that her father had stayed in his room for this dinner. Tabi volunteered that he was sleeping early that night.

  "He is sorry, Georgiana."

  Georgiana was silent, but across from her, Tristan scowled.

  "Then he can say he is."

  Tabi shook her head, despairing and understanding by turns. "That's not Uncle Peter's way. He gets angry, and then it leaves, and it was like nothing ever happened."

  Of all people, Eleanor spoke up. Her voice was soft but had a cutting quality to it. "That's still not right. We are responsible for the things we say when we are angry or sorrowful, just as we are responsible when we are happy or joyous."

  Georgiana stared at her, and Eleanor colored briefly.

  "I am sorry. I spoke out of place. This is neither my house nor my family."

  Georgiana smiled at her even as she wondered at Eleanor's quiet strength and quick wit. "It's all right. These last few days have been a bit tiring overall, but there's nothing truly wrong. I am sure it will pass."

  Tabi looked unsure, and Eleanor only looked thoughtful, but to Georgiana's relief, Tristan chimed in, taking the conversation away to Morgan.

  Really, he is quite good at that. I'm sure he could be more popular if he tried.

  Her own thoughts surprised her. What did it matter to her if Tristan was more popular or a more gracious host? He was a duke, with a fortune that would more than balance out any invisible flaws that she could care to name. However, she had never once heard of him courting anyone, no scandal, no assignations, nothing.

  "Georgiana, you're staring."

  Tristan's voice was unexpectedly gentle and teasing.

  She laughed a little, shaking her head.

  "I'm simply being foolish. Do not mind me overmuch."

  "I never have, really..."

  Once they had pulled away from the difficult conversation about the duke, dinner was a pleasant affair. She wondered absently if it would be good to get Tabi away from Fox Hall for a season of her own, and what Eleanor was like when she was at home.

  Tristan, seated to Georgiana's left, was a presence she was constantly aware of, and she often leaned closer to him. Their hands almost touched on the table, and finally, she had to edge her chair away from him, so she didn't draw so close to him without noticing again.

  After dinner, Tristan opted to do some reading in the library, and Georgiana walked off with Tabi and Eleanor to the drawing room. Just as they came to the door, however, Georgiana held her hand to her head as if she had a headache.

  "I'm so sorry, but I think all the commotion of the past few days is catching up with me. I believe I will retire early."

  From the looks Tabi and Eleanor gave her, they thought she would be going to see Tristan, and from the grins on their faces, it seemed as if they roundly approved. She would miss them.

  They bid her goodnight, ducking into the drawing room and leaving her alone in the corridor. For one brief and mad moment, she wondered about going to say goodbye to Tristan, but he knew far more about the situation than her cousin and her friend knew. He would probably guess at once what she was up to, and that would be that.

  Georgiana made her way to her bedroom and plucked up her packed bag. She had been a child at Fox Hall, and she knew all of its ways, including the deserted halls and passages that were not quite secrets but certainly used far less often than the regular halls. She made her way through the manor until she ended up on the grounds outside, taking a deep breath and looking around. One last look would have to last her.

  Get on with it, stop delaying.

  Listening to her own advice, she made her way into the lowering night.

  * * *

  Chapter 29

  Tristan had to admit that he wasn't paying much attention. He was still angry at the Duke of Southerly for his brutal words toward his own daughter, and most of dinner was spent with Eleanor and Tabi, who kept darting looks between him and Georgiana as if they were fascinated. Eleanor, at least, seemed to have a good head on her shoulders, and Tristan wondered what the Parrs were doing these days. She had two brothers that he knew of, but what they were doing, he had no clue. His own father would have called it a crying shame to lose ties with families that had once been close to his own, and he resolved to do better in the future.

  In the library, Tristan found what he had been looking for. In most households, the accounts were kept by the housekeeper, but he had a feeling that a man as particular as the Duke of Southerly would keep at least a copy available for himself. He found thick volumes on a low shelf about the doings of Fox Hall, and soon enough, he discovered a roster of servants from roughly the time he and Georgiana had been having their unwise escapade.

  With pencil and paper, he wrote down all the relevant names, and it would likely be easy for Georgiana to get a list of the current servants from the housekeeper herself. He hesitated after getting his list, and then shrugged, heading to the d
rawing room.

  Tabi answered the door immediately, and a troubled look came to her eye.

  "I'd like to speak to Georgiana."

  "She's not here. She's not with you either? She pleaded a headache earlier, and she retired to her room."

  Tristan frowned and thanked the young girl for her help. He had never known Georgiana to be overly bothered by headaches or other megrims, but the last few days could take its toll on anyone. He supposed that the kindest thing might be to keep the role until he saw her next, but something spurred his steps toward her room. He tapped on her door gently after making sure there were no servants in the hall, but when there was no answer, he turned the doorknob.

  The first thing he thought was that she should lock her door if there was a blackmailer around. The second thing he thought, sunk in fear and horror, was that she was gone.

  No. Absolutely not, I will not have this.

  He would not allow Georgiana to disappear from his life. Tristan spun around, closing the door behind him and heading for the stables.

  * * *

  Several roads led out of Fox Hall, but to get to the roads in the first place, a long drive led up to the manor itself, well over two miles long. Once Georgiana gained the main road, there would be no telling where she had gone, and Tristan prayed he was not too late.

  The gelding he rode ate up the ground at a fast pace, and in the dimming early summer night, he kept his eyes trained on the road ahead, looking for Georgiana, for anything that would tell him where she had gone.

  In the dimming light, he became aware of a figure hurrying ahead of him, dressed all in black. For a single superstitious moment, Tristan wondered if it was a ghost or a specter, and then he spurred his horse on.

  A shout made the figure turn around for a moment, and then she started to run down the track. Of course, one woman on foot was no match for a man on a fresh horse, and in a matter of minutes, Tristan tugged his gelding to a stop right in her path.