Page 38 of Ironvine

“I know that last year you lost a babe. I was quite sorry to hear of it.”

She nodded her head slightly. “Hmm.” She drank again. Refilled her glass again. “I was unable to carry the child to term. I had so hoped for a girl.” Amanda sucked in a breath, her eyes glistening. “And it was.”

“I’m so very sorry.”

She brushed her fingers across her chin. “I ask you, Georgina, are we put upon this earth to fester? To be miserable? It cannot be.”

“No, it cannot be,” Georgina said.

“So I take hold of any sort of happiness—as it so sweetly called—whenever I find it. And my husband has learned this lesson. He now keeps a whore or two.”

“And in all this, what of love?”

“Love makes for delicious urgent whispers in the night, nothing more.” She let out a short laugh. “Oh, dear, do you fancy yourself in love with Hugh? Feel things for him you have felt for no other?”

“I…”

“Enjoy it now, for it’s only a fleeting illusion that truly has no place in a marriage. I applaud you—securing the Earl of Ryvves is a great success.” She drank more. “It’s that sort of success that you and I were bred for, is it not? A match with a titled and handsome man of means.”

“Yes, quite right,” Georgie murmured.

“My advice to you is this: make sure you know what kind of field you are stepping into with a man. Is it muddy in the center? A swamp to the south? Where is it dry and bristly or fallow? You must know in order to lift your skirts in just the right way and best navigate it. Otherwise…”

“Yes?” Georgie swallowed hard.

Amanda’s eyes flared dramatically. “Be aware, Georgina, the male of our species is a fragile beast. He is all sounds and spectacle and needs to be applauded regularly. Even if you are not pleased in your marriage bed, you must, must pretend to be so. And not only pleased but grateful. Yes, men require gratitude as well. They are the great providers, after all. And a man like Hugh Montclare? Well…”

Georgina’s gaze took her in from head to toe as Amanda paced about the room, drinking. Red marks were scratched on her chest and her neck. The bruise on her cheek had swollen even more since she’d first arrived. Her dress bore a rip and tears were visible at the trim. Georgina’s mouth dried. Had her husband done this to her?

“William is not a practiced shot, but he is a man of tempers. Perhaps that rage will embolden him to shoot well for the glory of his precious honour.” Amanda came to a stop before her, so close, only inches away. Georgina could smell the wine on her breath, the warm sweat on her skin.

“Ah, to be your age again,” she said. “I saw you dancing with Hugh last night. Everyone saw the two of you enjoying such a simple delight, enjoying each other. You have much to learn of the world in which you dance so carefree, Miss Georgina.” Her lips curled as her voice sharpened brutally, and a scratch ripped up Georgina’s spine at the sound of it. “That dance floor you love so much is a deceptive and treacherous place.”

The front door burst open, and Amanda’s eyes widened, her back straightened. Heavy footsteps grew closer, their pounding matching the beat of her pulse. The drawing room door was flung open, and there stood William. His dark eyes were sunk in his face, his skin sallow, his lips a sneer. Ripping off his gloves, he went to his wife, took the glass from her hand, and drained it. “It’s done.”

Amanda glanced at the empty glass and then at him. “He accepted?”

“I did not offer him a choice.” He wiped at his mouth, his dark gaze snagging on Georgina. “What are you doing here?”

“You know Miss Georgina, darling.”

“Why is she here?”

“Georgina has the most delightful news she came to share with me—she is engaged. And the lucky gentleman is the Earl of Ryvves. Is that not splendid?”

William burst into loud, hard laughter, and something cold and slithery knotted in Georgina’s belly. He put down the glass, his eyes narrowing at Georgina, his jaw flexing as if something hot and volatile were exploding inside him. “I suggest you go to Hyde Park tomorrow morning and give your fiancé a final kiss before I kill him.”

Georgina’s heart stopped.He was fighting Hugh? Hugh was the one who….

“As you see, Georgina, my husband is defending my honour.”

“I’m defending mine!” His fierce voice slashed through the room as he flung his glass against the wall and it exploded into shards.

The air in the room grew thick and hot. The walls seemed to move, to close in on Georgina. These two were locked in a perverse dark dance of their own. She must leave, but she must know.

Georgina rose, planting her feet firmly on the floor. “Mr. Treharne, do tell me, please—when tomorrow? Where exactly?”

“Are you going to save him?” He poured himself another and brought it to his lips, his eyes narrowing over her. “He’s not worthy of it, or of a girl like you.”

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