Page 85 of When the Marquess Was Mine
Glaring furiously, Wakefield closed his hand into a fist around the letter and threw it at her. Georgiana flinched as it bounced off her cheek. “What made you do something so stupid?”
Shehadexplained it in her letter. “Lord Sterling and I do not suit.”
“Oh?” His eyebrows shot up. “You don’t suit! How, pray, do you know this? You no longer blush when he smiles at you? He doesn’t send you enough vapid love poems?”
“He barely comes to see me,” she retorted, her temper roused. “He almost never writes—lettersorlove poems—and even when I do see him, he’s always on his way to meet his friends. He doesn’t care for me—”
“What’s that got to do with marriage?” interrupted Alistair.
“It’s what I want in marriage! And you do not have the right to tell me whom I shall marry!”
His face darkened. “Leave us, Lady Sidlow.”
The woman hesitated, sending an anxious glance at Georgiana. “Sir—”
He turned and gave her such a look, she made a hasty curtsy and left the room.
“I will ask again,” said Alistair in a cold, eerily calm voice. “What made you break off with Sterling?”
It was unnerving to be alone with him. He was only a few inches taller than she, but seemed so much larger. “I no longer love him as I should to marry him.”
He closed his eyes in patent fury.
“In honesty I did not think you were much in favor of the match yourself,” Georgiana went on, in as calm a tone as she could manage. “It’s been over two years since we announced our engagement and no date was ever set for the wedding. Sterling said the settlements were dragging on forever, and he finally admitted he was pressing you to hand over a piece of property along with my dowry. I thought—”
“Don’t, Georgiana,” he snapped. “It’s never pretty when a woman tries to think.”
Her face burned. “I don’t want to marry him.”
He put his hands on his hips and shook his head, his lip curled.
“I thought you’d be relieved,” she couldn’t resist adding. “Now he won’t badger you over the settlements.”
He slapped her. Georgiana recoiled in shock, one hand flying to her cheek. For a long moment they stared at each other, Georgiana with a mixture of alarm and revulsion, he with pure contempt.
“You’re supposed to marry Sterling,” he said, low and cold. “Now you think you’re going to throw that aside for some girlish fit about love?”
“What do you mean,supposedto marry Sterling?” she asked warily.
His smile was twisted. “It’s all I’ve heard for several years! How pleased Father would be with the match, how strongly Pelham approved, how big a fool you made of yourself mooning after him. So I gave Sterling my blessing, and he’s the only one I plan to approve. You can make it up with him, or wait until you’re twenty-five.” He turned on his heel and headed for the door.
“What?” she cried after a moment’s shock. “Why?”
He whirled and came at her so rapidly she stumbled backward until she hit a nearby chair. “You heard me,” Alistair said ominously. “Our father made me your guardian until you either marry or reach the age of twenty-five.”
“What if I want to marry someone else?” she demanded in renewed outrage.
He shrugged. “Who would have you without a dowry?” Her mouth dropped open in outrage, but he slashed one hand before she could protest. “Yes, Father set it aside. But it’s under my control. Without my approval the funds won’t be paid. So there is your choice, Georgiana. Make up to Sterling, or resign yourself to being a spinster for three more years.” He looked her up and down. “I daresay you’re used to it by now.”
He turned to leave again, and Georgiana bit back a fiery retort. But at the door, Alistair stopped once more. “If you’re to be a spinster, you might as well come home to Yorkshire. There’s no need to pay London rents if it’s all going to waste.”
Georgiana stood tense with fury, her breath vibrating through her as his footsteps rang on the stairs. He was a monster. The door below closed, and she seized a pillow from the sofa and flung it at the drawing room door, almost striking Lady Sidlow as that lady hurried back in.
“My dear, what did he say?”
“He said I must marry Sterling,” she said through tight lips. “Or go home to Yorkshire and marry no one until I’m twenty-five.”
Lady Sidlow looked sick. “Dear heavens. I never dreamed he would demandthat!”
