The Duke's Hellion Read online

  Tristan felt something in him freeze, even as he nodded. "Well, I am glad the act was helpful."

  "How was I? I'll admit, I was nervous. Besotted isn't something I have ever tried before. Mostly events like that prefer it if I am witty and oh-so-cutting."

  She made a face that Tristan couldn't help finding strangely adorable, likely because it wasn't a face that people saw so frequently. She was always so perfect in public. In private, she made faces, laughed, touched him, and leaned close, the way she was doing now.

  "I think you did a very good job."

  Georgiana peered up into his face, her blue eyes sparkling. Even when she was playful like this, he worried about her seeing too much.

  "You sound oh so serious, your grace. Are you worried about injuring your dignity for this little plan?"

  After all, it was his idea. Tristan had no one to blame but himself if it turned out she was simply too good at it.

  "Dignity is not a thing that I am worried about right now, no. And I think we are convincing enough for everyone."

  "It's not a perfect plan at all, but still, Tristan, I am glad we have it. Thank you."

  They had both noticed that the blackmailer was more apt to strike when Georgiana was alone, when she was vulnerable. If they pretended to be infatuated with one another, and then they had a fight a few days later, Tristan was willing to bet the blackmailer might emerge to taunt her, perhaps to try to exhort even more from her. It was the best idea he had been able to come up with, but of course, it was far from foolproof.

  Of course, the longer it went on, the more likely it was that he was going to be the fool. When Georgiana nestled against him, her hand securely tucked in the crook of his arm, it was far too easy to feel as if all this was real.

  Tristan had always thought he had more self-control than most men, but as time went on, all he knew was that his self-control with regards to Georgiana was severely lacking.

  Georgiana picked that moment to look up at him, eyes dancing. "Care to make our charade a little more convincing?"

  The blatant invitation there sent a surge of heat through Tristan's body, and he didn't even protest that there was no one to see them in the garden. Instead, his hands closed over her shoulders, and he pulled her close, his mouth ravishing hers with the force of five years without her.

  She was sweet and pliant under his touch, and then her hand fisted in his jacket, hanging on to him with a need that made him shudder. Kissing her was the sweetest thing he had ever known, and at that moment, he would have given his wealth, his title, and his soul if it could have just gone on.

  Soon, far too soon, Georgiana took a step back from him. She's beautiful when she's been kissed. What might she look like after a night in my bed? Would her eyes be as bright, her lips as red?

  Before he could do or say something truly disastrous, Georgiana laughed, pulling away. When she spoke, her voice was the softest whisper.

  "You play a very convincing part, Tristan."

  Tristan had to bite back several responses, each one wilder and more improbable than the last. Finally, he found a smile for her, inclining his head. If she could act the part, then so could he.

  "Thank you, Georgiana? Shall we return to the house?”

  * * *

  Chapter 34

  Georgiana knew after the Barclays' dinner that she was making a mistake. Even as Tabi chattered on about how very handsome Tristan had looked and how very interested in Georgiana he had been, Georgiana was lost in thought during the ride back to Fox Hall.

  Tabi was very right. Tristan had been incredibly handsome in the candlelight that night. He was handsome enough even in his riding clothes, but when he took the time to wear proper clothing, the kind the ton approved of, he was a stunning example of male beauty.

  He had danced attendance on her all night, and her breath still caught when she saw him walking toward her from across the room. For just a moment, she had believed that nothing else in the world mattered to him, that the only thing on his mind was being with her.

  It was an engaging illusion and kept her up that night. Long after she should have been asleep, she paced in her room, wondering what Tristan was doing in his. Was he restless as well, or did he sleep soundly, confident they were on the right track for finding the blackmailer that had threatened to ruin her life?

  She had not anticipated Tristan being such a good actor. As stiff and staid as he could be, she figured she would have to pour on the charm, making it incredibly obvious how infatuated she was. Instead, he had met her halfway and more.

  I am honestly not sure my heart can take this.

  The thought occurred to her with a great deal of calm but also with a full realization as to its truth. She had been conscious of their act after that, but that moment at the beginning, her heart and mind had been entirely tricked.

  The few moments where she believed what he said or how he looked were glorious, sending her flying high into the air. However, the crash that inevitably followed was hard enough to stun her, and of course, Tristan had no idea.

  In fact, over the last few days, as they went together to the various events that were popping up all over the county now that the Season was properly ended, it felt as if he were upping the ante. Against all fashion, he stayed at her side throughout the events, smiling at her, subtly and not so subtly sometimes fending off the people who came too close.

  She knew the entire county was talking about it, and it would only make what came next more shocking and devastating.

  But it's all acting. None of it is real.

  If she told herself that often enough, surely, she would start to believe it.

  * * *

  The Perrinfields' ball was meant to be the biggest event the county had seen for quite some time. Even Tabi, who was not so fond of such events, was excited, and she kept grinning at Georgiana, her eyes so starry that Georgiana almost felt bad for her.

  While she was deciding what to wear for the ball, she paused over a spectacular blue and gold gown. They were her signature colors, and she knew she would look good in the new dress, but for some reason, she decided to choose something else instead.

  Honey, who had made the trip from London to bring her even more clothing to choose from, tilted her head to one side.

  "Not the blue and gold, my lady?"

  Georgiana smiled at her. "I'm afraid not. I am in the mood for something more... I'm not sure. Different, perhaps."

  If she was worrying about her dress, she was not worrying about blackmail, and she was not worrying about how Tristan didn't really care for her, and instead, was just going through the motions to make sure they got this matter fixed.

  Honey made a brief humming sound as she came to stand at Georgiana's side. Some of the gowns were new, commissioned before she had an event to wear them to. The one Honey pulled out made Georgiana blink.

  "If you are looking for something different, my lady, perhaps this one?"

  Georgiana was a little surprised she had never seen this particular dress before. It was made of stiff, gorgeous silk dyed to an incredibly deep purple. In fact, it was only visible as purple in good light. Otherwise, it was like a pool of shadow gathered around her. The dress was embroidered in faint gold, casting glimmers of light as it reflected the candelabra on the table.

  It makes me think of his eyes.

  Georgiana didn't know whether she was amused at her own silliness or if she was disgusted. Outwardly, she only nodded.

  "That looks like it will do quite well, Honey. Actually, wait, did you bring your needles and thread with you?"

  Honey looked up with an eager smile. "Of course, I did, my lady."

  "Come with me."

  In the library, in a volume devoted to the venerable families of England, Georgiana paged through the heavy pages, passing the three flying arrows of the Martins and the unicorn of the Parrs. Finally, she found the page for the Carrows, showing Honey the rearing hart.

  "Can you embroider that desi
gn, very small, on the collar of the dress?"

  Honey glanced at the name on the page, and her smile grew even wider.

  "Of course, I can, my lady. I'll get to it right away."

  "Small, please. Ideally no bigger than my thumb."

  Georgiana was already beginning to regret her whim, but Honey was nodding and scurrying away to get her needles. Georgiana sighed.

  Well, I've always known that love could turn you into a fool. Apparently, false love can turn you into one as well.

  Of course, the problem was that false love had nothing to do with her problem. If her own love was false, this would be a magnificent charade. The problem was that she knew it was not.

  * * *

  Honey dressed Georgiana for the Perrinfields' ball with her customary clever touch before sitting her down at the table to dress her hair. For a ball such as the one she was going to, something more elaborate than usual was required, and Honey's fingers flew over Georgiana's gold locks, smoothing them with rose oil before starting to curl them.

  "Honey, you know Lord Parrington at least a little bit, don't you?"

  "I do, my lady. He was there when Lord Amory went to rescue Miss Blythe."

  That had been a nightmare of no small proportion. Georgiana had been certain that either Tristan would strike Thomas or Thomas would strike Tristan before it was all over, but thankfully, it had worked out. Blythe was rescued, and for a while, it looked like Tristan's opinion of Martins was softening at least a little.

  "What do you think of him?"

  In the vanity mirror, Honey gave her a troubled look.

  "My lady, it is not appropriate for a maid to have opinions on her betters."

  Georgiana snorted. "Appropriate or not, you must have them. But I will not press. I would like to hear what you think of him, and no matter what it is, I swear that you will not lose your place."

  For a moment, Honey simply fiddled with Georgiana's hair, and Georgiana thought she would get no more out of the girl at all.

  "He's a bit frightening, isn't he? I mean, I was never afraid of your brother, my lady, even if he was just as large and strong. Lord Parrington rather looks like he could kill you and not be sorry about it."

  "Well, that certainly does sound like him."

  "Except, of course, when he looks at you."

  Georgiana blinked, meeting Honey's gaze in the mirror again. "Have you been talking with Tabi?"

  "Miss Kingsley? No, my lady, not at all except to greet her when I first came here."

  "But you think that something about Tris—that is, Lord Parrington, changes when he looks at me?"

  "Oh, yes, my lady. The girls in the kitchen told me about it first, and I didn't credit it. I had met him before, and I thought it would take all the fires of hell to thaw him. Oh, oh, my goodness, I am sorry, I did not mean to say that!"

  Georgiana laughed, waving away Honey's worry. "No, please, I think that's just about right for Lord Parrington. Go on, please."

  "Well, when I met him, he seemed so cold. But when he looks at you, well, I suppose it is like summer finally came for him."

  "Like summer finally came for him. That's lovely, Honey."

  Honey smiled shyly at her, her hands still busy with Georgiana's hair. "I hope he continues to look at you like that, my lady. It's beautiful."

  Honey's words were like a fist against Georgiana's heart. She smiled at her maid because it would worry her otherwise, and as Honey worked, Georgiana's hand came up to the tiny hart that Honey had embroidered into her collar. It was lovely work, and it would make what she and Tristan had planned for this evening even more striking, even more vicious.

  However, as she touched the raised threads, she wondered if she had done it for anyone besides herself.

  When Honey finished her hair, Georgiana rose to examine herself in the tall mirror in the corner. It was, she had to admit, a good look on her. She had never cared overly much for darker colors, especially when it was meant to be a lighthearted occasion like a ball, but she looked dramatic. Georgiana rather thought it suited the occasion.

  Tristan was taking his own carriage to the Perrinfields' ball, while Georgiana rode with Tabi and Eleanor. The other two girls laughed and joked, but Georgiana could not help but worry about what was to come.

  Would it work? Would their plan truly flush out her blackmailer?

  And underneath it all were thoughts she dared not voice; would there be anything left of her heart when she did so?

  * * *

  Chapter 35

  Tristan thought of his brother often in odd moments. Ned was younger than he was by less than a year, and in some ways, they had been raised as twins rather than one brother as the elder and the other as the younger. Ned was kind and good-natured, always ready with a laugh, and he had surprised everyone when he had bought a commission and went off with the army.

  I miss you, Ned, and I wish you were here to advise me. You at least have some experience with battle plans.

  He was wearing some of the finest tailoring that it was possible to get in the city, and he was proud enough to know that he looked quite good. However, he couldn't stop thinking that something was wrong, that disaster was looming over everything.

  The last few days had been at once maddening and amazing. Years ago, when he had proposed to Georgiana, this was what he had thought his life might have been like. He was able to talk with her, to be with her openly.

  At the time, she had been too afraid of what her father might say, what might come of a Martin loving a Carrow. Now things were very different, but perhaps they were not different enough.

  As he made his way to the Perrinfields' estate by carriage, Tristan took several deep breaths. Tonight, it would all change. Tonight, they would be firing a cannonball at the carefully constructed facade that they had built together, and hopefully, it would lure Georgiana's blackmailer out of hiding.

  All that was going to be lost was a sham. Tristan knew it, but the grief in his heart would not lift. Stepping out from the carriage felt like he was going to face a firing squad, and the Perrinfields' stately manor felt like a tomb.

  There was already a crush on the floor, and he quickly ascertained that Georgiana and her cousin had not yet arrived. It gave him enough time to get some punch, and on his way to the punch bowl, he was accosted by no less than three people who had marriageable daughters for him to meet.

  Tristan smiled and kept moving, because right now, marriage to a society miss with not a tenth of Georgiana's wit and beauty was not a thing he cared to contemplate. If he were being entirely honest with himself, marriage with someone who was not Georgiana was not something he wanted.

  He pushed that thought away. It was inappropriate when they were still tangled up with everything that was going on. The last thing he wanted to do was to put Georgiana through unwanted advances, no matter when they were occurring.

  Those thoughts were all very fine and good, but then the majordomo announced Georgiana's name, and Tristan was pulled toward her as if she had a string running from his heart to her fingertips.

  Instead of her usually bright and gay colors, she was dressed in a dark silk gown, Somehow, instead of looking odd and foreign on her, there was something breathtaking about her like that, severe and with her chin tilted up as if in defiance.

  Tristan could almost feel the crowd turn toward her as if they were hungry for the very glimpse of her. Some men looked at her with an acquisitive glint in their eyes, and others only wanted to admire her.

  Tristan might have had trouble with the crush, but there were advantages to being a duke. When he strode forward, people saw him and stepped back. It was to their benefit that they did so. If any of them had posed a serious obstacle between him and Georgiana, Tristan thought he might have cheerfully pitched them out of one of the Perrinfields' tall frosted windows.

  Despite that, it still took him far too long to get to Georgiana's side. When he did, however, he was rewarded with a dazzling smile and an unexp
ected sight. She was beautiful, glowing like a sun in bright June sky, but for a moment, all he could see was the embroidery on her collar.

  “You are wearing the Carrow hart.” There was something foolish in his voice, but instead of mocking him for it, she glanced down with a look that was nearly shy.

  “Do you mind? It does occur to me that I'm probably breaking some kind of sumptuary law or other simply by wearing it.”

  “No. It suits you.”

  In front of everyone, Tristan reached out and brushed the barest tip of his finger against the hart embroidered on her collar. Absently, he noted that it was likely Honey's work, and thinking of Georgiana giving the maid that order made something warm pool inside him.

  In front of the nobility at the ball, however, there was nothing more he could do, and instead of pulling her into a fervent embrace as he wished to do, he offered her his arm instead.

  “Shall we make the rounds?”

  “Of course.”

  Tristan had never been a man who enjoyed balls. They kept him from the business of running what was a small empire in its own right, when you figured in the shipping and colonial concerns, and they were full of an avid rumor mongering that he had never held with.

  However, walking into the ball with Georgiana on his arm was something different. It didn't matter who was staring at him because Georgiana was there. He felt more patient, smiled more easily, and was always almost painfully conscious of how she gleamed.

  All too soon, she glanced around and looked up at him. “Do you think we should do it now?”

  Tristan's heart sank, and he tried to keep the expression of surprise and grief off his face. Instead, he shook his head. “A little longer, perhaps? I think we will make a far more impressive splash if we put it off for a little while longer.”

  For a moment, he wondered if Georgiana looked impatient, but then she smiled up at him. The fact that he could not tell if it was a real or false smile bothered him. “Very well, my lord. I did not think you enjoyed balls overly much. I suppose I always thought of them as being far too frivolous for you.”