Page 123 of Ironvine

“Yes ma’am.” The servant dipped her head and left.

“Speak of the devil. Mrs. Treharne is your friend, isn’t she?” the Duchess asked in a way that made Georgina’s breath cut.

“She is not my friend, in fact—”

“Have you arranged all this?”

“No!”

“Please, you cannot! Ma’am!” the servant’s voice rose from the hallway.

“Out of my way!” Amanda’s harsh voice exploded, and the door to the drawing room burst open. There she stood, dressed in black, her blond hair softly pinned, her cheeks blooming with pink. The young, vibrant widow.

“Mrs. Treharne—” Georgina’s pulse beat like a tight drum.

Amanda took in the Duchess and Georgina and her chin lifted. The silence in the room crackled and boiled forth. “Ah, have I interrupted a little party?”

“You have.” The Duchess’s eyes gleamed at Amanda as the widow drew herself up under her cold inspection. It only seemed to fill Amanda with new humours. Dark and sour.

““Hugh must be having a laugh right now. What a fine party we are—the mistress, the fiancée, the lover.” Amanda’s hand fluttered to her chest.

“Amanda, you must leave this instant!” Georgina’s heart banged in her chest at Amanda’s taunting gaze at the Duchess who remained perfectly calm. A snake readying to strike.

“Look at you, the Countess of Ryvves issuing orders. How did you manage it, Georgina darling? Engaged to Hugh for less than a day, and before he’s even cold in the ground, you’re in his brother’s bed. Did you have to seduce Charles to persuade him to marry you? Poor Hugh didn’t realise his fiancée was no innocent but a … virginal vixen?” She let out a biting laugh. “Did he never get a taste of you? Or perhaps the three of you–”

“Get out of my house.” Georgina’s hands fisted at her sides.

Amanda’s lips curved. “Yes, your house, indeed. Did you and Charles plan on getting Hugh out of the way to claim your fortunes all along? That’s the rumour going around, you know. I for one believe it because I know Charles very well. Stratagems arouse him greatly, especially when they involve pretty young ladies.”

“That’s quite enough,” Georgina said.

The Duchess prowled toward Amanda. “How dare you speak to the Countess of Ryvves in such a vile manner in her own home? You come here uninvited, you were asked to leave by the mistress of the house, you refuse, and then you offend her guest, her husband, and the Countess herself.”

Amanda remained…amused.

“You are enjoying this, are you not?” said Georgina. “Once long ago I admired you, Amanda, and I also resented you. All the young men around me wanted you—my brother, Matthew, Charles, Brandon, William. Even if you treated them with disdain, somehow you remained a paragon, able to inspire their adoration, their desire to claim you for their own with just a look, a witty remark, a dance.”

“I always knew you were envious of me.”

“No, I was intrigued. Because what I could never understand, and never more so than at this moment, was that instead of being grateful for your many blessings, you only wished to conquer over and over, indulge in stratagems, all of it to a selfish end. And it never mattered to you who you trampled in the course of your sport. Now, here you stand, alone, with none of these men to love, and none of these men to love you.”

Amanda’s nostrils flared. “Although I’m finding our little gathering entertaining, I came to see your husband. Where is he?”

“The Earl is unavailable, as am I. You must go.” Georgina had never spoken to her so formally, so officiously.

“Your husband must answer for what he did to me last night. He set out to ruin me.”

“On the contrary, madame,” Georgina said evenly. “You were the one engaged in ruinous behaviour.”

“I am so very sorry to have missed the performance,” said the Duchess.

Amanda’s entire being was fixated on the Duchess as she stalked toward her, her gaze raking her from head to toe. “I declare, I do not know what Hugh saw in you.”

Georgina’s eyes widened. “Amanda!”

“I know what he saw in you.” The Duchess’s voice positively slithered around them, cool, relaxed, ready to strike. “And you proved it last evening.” A grin slashed the Duchess’s lips. “My husband described your behaviour to me in great detail, as did Lord Darnley, Sir Whitten, and Admiral Trainor. They greatly enjoyed themselves, and I was so very pleased. I hadn’t realised we’d hired a posture moll for our dinner party.”

With a piercing cry, Amanda’s arm flew in the air. She didn’t like the Duchess calling her a whore.

---