Page 42 of When the Marquess Was Mine
“You’re the Marquess of Westmorland,” she repeated in a tiny voice. “Not Viscount Sterling.”
“The hateful, despicable Lord Westmorland?”
Georgiana’s face burned, despite his even tone. “What—how do you know?”
“I overheard bits of your conversation the other night with Lady Winston.” He was still calm, but his eyes were watchful.
She wilted. “Oh. I thought... perhaps you had remembered...”
“No,” he said after a moment. “Not really.”
The carriage rocked in silence.
“I never set out to deceive you,” she said, then stopped at his expression. “No, obviously I did. I don’t know why I thought of it—so, so stupid on my part.” She shook her head, picking furiously at a loose thread on her reticule. “I didn’t think at all, I suppose. And then I didn’t know how to tell you the truth.”
“So why now?”
His tone was fraying her nerves like nothing else could have. Where was the shouting, the furious demands for an explanation? Not that she had a good one, but she had expected he would want it. “We’re not just going on a drive. We’re going to meet your brother in Maryfield.”
“The fellow at the house yesterday,” he murmured.
She cringed. So much for her sneaking abilities. “Yes. He’s come looking for you. Your family is worried at your long absence, and you should be with them.”
He gave her a long sideways look. “Is that right?”
“Of course! It will be best for your health, and hopefully you’ll recover your memory completely there...”
He just looked at her, his expression unreadable. Georgiana felt a flood of guilt. “I’m so sorry,” she said, taking his hand without thinking. “I did not intend for any of this to happen, and everything is my fault. I will never forgive myself if you suffer a relapse over the shock.”
“Unless you mean to give me another beating about the head, I don’t think I shall suffer a relapse.” His hand turned over under her grip, and his fingers threaded between hers to clasp it fully. Her heart throbbed with relief and joy. “Then our engagement...?”
She grimaced. “We are not engaged.”
His thumb went over her knuckles. “Ah. A great pity, that. I quite liked that part.”
Georgiana closed her eyes in mortification. Gently she eased her hand from his. “But Iamengaged. To Lord Sterling.”
“Ah,” he said again after a pause. “He’s a real fellow, then.” She nodded once. “Have I got a fiancée, too?” he asked. “Another one?”
His voice had stayed carefully even and neutral, but she heard the subtle change. It stabbed at her heart. “I’ve no idea,” she acknowledged. “I think not. We... we were not much acquainted in London, before... this.”
He glanced at her sharply, but the horses were turning into the yard at the Bull and Dog. Georgiana wet her lips. “We’re here,” she said, pointlessly, and her hand reached for his again before she remembered herself and put it back in her lap. “Are you well enough to see him? His name is Thomas. If you are not, I will go speak to him and explain—”
“No,” he said, his gaze on her hand. The carriage rocked to a halt. “I’ll go.”
His mind churned as they made their way inside the squat little inn. He had to duck beneath the lintel of the door, and almost choked on the cloud of tobacco smoke and pungent smell of cooked mutton. Georgiana asked a question of the landlady, hurtling past with a tankard of ale in each hand, and the woman directed them down a narrow passageway with a nod of her head.
Rob followed Georgiana, his gaze fixed on the crown of her bonnet. A stray golden wisp of hair had escaped to curl at the nape of her neck. Even though he’d known since last night that he wasn’t really Lord Sterling, he couldn’t shake his attraction to her. Overnight his temper had cooled, and he’d decided to see what she did next. He ought to be furious at her, and yet...
He still wanted to hold her hand and see her smile. When she apologized and looked as if she would cry, he only wanted to comfort her and assure her he was fine.
That wasn’t entirely true, of course. He’d suffered a hard blow; he’d thought she was his. Even if he’d been idiotic and caused a rift between them, he’d thought there must besomethingdeeper connecting them, some affection or bond that kept her by his side. Something that would give him time to win her heart, this time forever.
But there was nothing.
Georgiana knocked at a door, and a moment later opened it. With one more anxious glance at him, she stepped inside and Rob followed. At the last second he reached for her, thinking to give assurance, and realized he’d been seeking it just as much when she seized his hand and sent his heart leaping.
At their entrance, the man who had been at Osbourne House the previous day rose. He was almost Rob’s own height but with sandy hair and a trim mustache. Rob stopped abruptly, pelted by a sudden swarm of memories. A fair-haired boy shinning up a tree to retrieve a kite while Rob shouted instructions from below. A young man falling off a horse and cursing a blue streak while Rob bellowed with laughter. An officer grinning broadly and shaking hands all around, his new regimentals blazing scarlet in the sun.
