Page 91 of When the Marquess Was Mine
His lips quirked ruefully. “You knew Sterling forever. He might have guessed you would accept him if he proposed.”
Blushing, she nodded once.Everyonehad known she loved Sterling, including the man himself.
“If he didn’t want to marry you, he wouldn’t have asked. He knew you would accept. Did your brother not give his consent quickly or easily?”
She frowned. “No. He agreed at once.”
“Then you’re left with the third option: there is something else.” He pulled her down on top of him and kissed her brow until her frown faded. “And I thank God there was, because it gave me a chance to know you.”
Slowly she smiled. “So I should thank them for arguing over it for two years?”
“Bloody right you should,” he said with feeling. “I intend to.”
She laughed, and he kissed her again. Georgiana spread her hands on his chest until he rolled them both over, his weight bearing her down into the mattress. Her legs parted, hooking around his without conscious thought. Her breathing hitched as he moved, thick and hard again, against her.
Rob tore his mouth from hers. “It’s growing late. I should take you home before Lady Sidlow notices you’re gone.”
“I think she knows I left.” She snuggled deeper into the pillows and ran one finger down his chest. “And if she doesn’t... Well, then there’s no reason to hurry back. I really don’t think another hour will matter much.”
His brows went up and his mouth crooked in that devilish way that made her heart race. “Is that so, my lady? Then we’d best make very good use of it.”
Chapter 29
The next night was Lady Demont’s annual Lammas night masquerade. Rob prowled the assembly rooms until he spotted Heathercote.
“Good evening.”
His friend gave him a cool glance. “West. Fancy seeing you here.”
Rob smiled ruefully. He’d been avoiding Heath since the Vega Club. “Care to take a walk? I’ve an apology to make.”
Heath didn’t reply for a moment, then unfolded himself from his languid pose and followed.
“I’ve remembered what our plan was with Forester,” Rob said as they strolled through the rooms.
Heath turned on him in fury. “Remembered? Did you bloody forget it, West?”
Rob lowered his voice. “I did, actually. Got coshed on the head in Derbyshire, and it drove some things out entirely.”
Heath’s anger melted into incredulity. “What?”
Rob waved it away. “I’ve recovered, obviously, and it came back to me, what we are trying to do.” He gave his friend a piercing look. “Has this got any chance of working?”
“Of course it has.” Rob raised a brow and Heath scowled. “As much as anything. My uncle—”
“My father’s not too keen on his plans. He advised me to drop the whole business.”
“No!” Heath sounded appalled. “Not when we’ve made such progress!”
“Have we?” Rob paused to take two glasses of wine from a servant. They’d found a quiet corner at last. “What progress? And to what ultimate end?”
This he had not been able to decipher from his papers, nor remember. Perhaps there never had been an answer. At the prompting of Lord Beresford, Heath’s uncle, the two of them had undertaken to corrupt and bankrupt Frederick Forester, who had inherited his father’s shipping company two years ago. The elder Forester had been cagey and ruthless, and quietly violating British law. The trouble was that Beresford’s every attempt to exact justice fizzed out, despite voluminous evidence of guilt; he suspected old Mr. Forester had paid off and courted enough ministers and officials to impede any investigation. Rob suspected catching the man in a crime had become an idée fixe for Lord Beresford after years of being frustrated at it.
Freddie Forester, though, hadn’t his father’s cold-blooded drive. He had a taste for wild living and was drawn to aristocratic friends, the more rakish the better. The Marquess of Westmorland and Viscount Heathercote barely had to invite him once for the fellow to become a permanent fixture at their revelries.
Rob had no doubt he and Heath could have managed the corrupting and bankrupting. What he didn’t know, in his newfound maturity, was what that would accomplish. Was Forester going to confess his crimes if they beggared him?
Heath glanced around uneasily. “What don’t you remember?”
