by CJ Archer
"It's all right," Alex said to his valet. "I'm awake." He pulled the covers to his waist. As much as he'd like to greet Georgiana with his nakedness, he didn't want to upset the very upright Trent. "If that's Miss Appleby—."
The door flew open and Georgiana rushed in then stopped when she saw Trent. "Oh." Her hand fluttered to her throat. "I wasn't aware you were here." Alex tried not to laugh as her face turned a very pleasing shade of red—the color was rather fetching on her. "Do you mind giving me a few moments alone with Mr. Redcliff?" she said.
Trent turned even redder than Georgiana. Between the pair of them Alex found his grim mood lifting. Perhaps this morning wouldn't be too awkward after all.
"Miss Appleby," he said, deciding he needed to rescue them both, "it's entirely inappropriate for you to be in here." Only because of Trent's presence. If they were alone, Alex would happily take her to bed. It was one way to escape the lecture he knew was coming.
"There are some things you and I need to discuss, Mr. Redcliff, and if you wish to discuss them with Trent here then so be it."
She would do it too. Her brown eyes had turned a shade deeper and her very kissable mouth pulled into a severe, determined line.
He sat up. "Of course, but would you allow me to dress first? Trent."
Trent disappeared into the dressing room and returned with a selection of clothes. Alex lifted a brow at Georgiana and she turned around. He stared at her stiff back and wished she was loose again, like she'd been last night after they made love. He had no one except himself to blame for the change in her.
He was such a bloody fool. It wasn't surprising that she hated him now. He'd returned to the belligerent, foul-tempered beast of their first acquaintance, and then he'd run from her like a coward because the alternative was even more frightening.
He'd wanted to hurt her.
Blood pounded between his ears and he felt sick again, but this time it had nothing to do with the opium and everything to do with fear—fear of what he'd become.
A monster.
Trent helped him dress then left so that Alex was alone again with Georgiana. How was he going to make up for what he'd done and the things he'd said? How could he make her forgive him?
She turned around and the hard determination in her eyes pierced his heart. His soft, pliable Georgiana had disappeared. He'd scared her away with his ruthlessness and determination to get his opium. The same ruthlessness and determination that Sir Oswyn had nurtured to turn Alex into a formidable spy.
Sir Oswyn, the cold-hearted puppeteer who wanted Alex to relive his nightmares to satisfy his own insatiable curiosity, and who couldn't accept Alex's resignation. All Sir Oswyn wanted was to send Alex back to active duty as soon as he was fully recovered.
Alex was having none of it. Let the sly fox blackmail him with every secret he could dig up. It was somebody else's turn to lose their soul for England.
"You're angry with me," he said to Georgiana. It was pathetic but they had to start somewhere.
"Yes, but mostly disappointed."
And sad. He could see it in her eyes, behind the hardness. He despised himself for putting it there. Sir Oswyn was a saint in comparison.
Alex went to her but she stepped back and he stopped, lowered his arms. It would seem he had a lot of work to do if he wanted to win back her good opinion.
"I'm sorry," he said. It sounded inadequate but it made him feel a little better to see her nod. "Did I hurt you?"
"No."
"Good." He waited for her to say something, to get angry, to shout and stomp and cry and accuse but she did none of those things. He would have preferred it to the chilled silence.
"If you want to lecture me then go ahead," he said. "I deserve it."
Georgiana tried to conquer her emotions but it wasn't easy. Not when she was standing so close to Alex and every thread of her wanted to fold him into her arms and let him have his way, with her and with the opium. He looked so wonderful, strong and handsome. The only signs of ill health were the black eyes he'd acquired in the fight but he was otherwise refreshed and in good humor.
She wasn't surprised that he'd chosen opium over staying with her but she was disappointed. No, devastated would be a more appropriate word. She could have helped him through the night, even helped him deal with the demons in his dreams, but he'd preferred the solace offered by the opium rather than the one offered by the comfort of her arms.
It was enough to make her walk away from him. And one day, she might have to. But not yet. Not while she still had a chance.
"No lecture," she said. "I want to find out what last night meant to you." She stepped closer to better see his reaction and met his enquiring stare with a bald one of her own. "I want to know if you regret making love to me."
Alex went very still. A breathless hush blanketed the room. Georgiana swallowed and it sounded like firecrackers popping in her ears.
"Of course I don't," he said on a rush of breath. Then he started laughing. He looked like a mischievous schoolboy and she marveled at the change in him in just a few short days. When she'd first met him, she'd have guessed he hadn't laughed in a long time. It gave her hope that a bigger change was possible.
"Why are you laughing?" she said, unable to stop smiling too.
"Because..." He waved a hand in the air. "Because I thought..." His laughter died suddenly and he touched her face. His finger traced the path of the tears she'd shed after his departure the night before. "Because I didn't think that would be your first concern."
Perhaps it shouldn't be. Perhaps she should be pressing her advantage, shaming him into making promises for his future without opium. But she couldn't. Every instinct told her that path led to failure.
His fingertip brushed along her lower lip. His gaze followed it. "I thought you would lecture me," he whispered. "I thought...I thought you might regret what happened last night."
"I told you, I'm not going to lecture you. I'm going to kiss you."
She placed her hands on either side of his face and drew him down for a kiss. It wasn't like any of the kisses they'd shared before. There was nothing gentle in it, none of the sweet exploration of new feelings. It was rough and hard, filled with all the emotions still boiling inside her, overflowing like a flooded stream. Anger, sadness, disappointment, frustration and passion. Always passion.
He put his hands to her shoulders and gently broke the kiss. His chest heaved with his breathing and his eyes flashed silver. "You're still mad at me," he said flatly.
"Yes. But I don't regret last night. If I never see you again after my stay here is over, Alex, I will cherish what happened between us as something precious and extraordinary because that's what it was."
He looked pained, his face pinched. "Is your stay here over?"
Her arms dropped to her sides. They felt heavy. Everything suddenly ached. Did he still want her gone? Had he slept with her to frighten her away? She suspected that had been his aim in the beginning but lately he'd been so nice towards her, as if he genuinely enjoyed her company. And last night had felt so...right. She was certain he'd wanted her as much as she wanted him.
"No," she said, barely above a whisper. "I have no plans to leave yet."
He let out a breath. "Good." He took her hands. "I'm glad. I find I like having you around after all." His smile seemed genuine but the shadow in his eyes didn't match it. He looked away but not before she saw something like confusion in the depths.
Her own confusion increased. Did he have another motive for seducing her or not? It was all very disturbing.
"I'm not leaving until you stop taking opium," she said.
He said nothing. Nor did he look at her again. Her right shoulder seemed far more interesting.
"I do want to talk about your nightmare," she went on. "Tell me what happened, Alex. Tell me—."
"Damn it, Georgiana, don't!" He spun away from her and strode to the window. He shoved the curtains aside since Trent had failed to open them before his hurrie
d departure. Light flooded the room, brightening everything except the mood. "I'm sorry, but I can't talk to you about my dreams," he rasped.
"But I might be able to help." She came up behind him and put her arms around his waist, drawing him to her. Muscle and sinew shifted against her as he relaxed. The rapid beating of his heart echoed through her body, his strength washed over her and she closed her eyes and drew in the scent of him.
He tilted his head forward and she felt rather than heard his groan. "You can't help," he said. "I know you think you can, but you can't."
"Alex, something in your nightmares is troubling you and if I knew what it was I could—."
"No!" He pulled away and turned to her. He put his hands on either side of her face, just as she had done with him only rougher. His long fingers dug into her hair, dislodging it from the pins. "If last night meant anything to you then don't do this, Georgiana."
"I have to. Don't you see? I have to cure you and if that means discovering your demons then so be it."
"I don't want your bloody cure!" His fingers pressed into her hair, pulling more of it free so that it tumbled over her face. He suddenly let her go and stabbed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes.
"Then you're a stupid man and a selfish one."
He strode past her and jerked the door open. "You'd better go now," he said in that quietly ominous tone he'd employed with her so often. "I don't want to discuss this with you and I don't want to say anything else I might regret. I said enough last night. I can't afford to add another debt to my ledger."
She'd pushed as far as she could for now. It was time to back down and give him time. She needed time herself, to soak in everything he'd said, and everything he hadn't said. And to decide what to do next.
She left his room and didn't look back even though it took all of her willpower not to. It wasn't until she reached the stairs that she heard the soft click of his door closing and she could breathe again.
***
Georgiana entered the house via the stairs leading down to the service area from the street—she didn't want to bump into Alex or his sister or aunt on her way to her room. She nodded a greeting at the servants who nodded politely back, perhaps wondering what she was doing in their domain but not daring to ask.
She walked quickly over the cool flagstones, past the wine cellar, scullery and butler's pantry to the narrow servants' stairs. She waited for a maid to pass then made her way up the wooden steps. On the small second floor landing she heard voices and stopped. Two men were speaking on the other side of the wall, one of whom was definitely Alex. She must be adjacent to his study.
"Well, did you, old man?" She recognized Lord Northbridge's droll, teasing tones.
"None of your damned business." Alex. He sounded annoyed.
"You did, didn't you?" Northbridge said. "You took a slice of the apple tart."
Apple tart? They were discussing food? Men were such odd creatures. She smiled and put a foot carefully on the next step to continue silently on her way up.
But then she stopped. Apple tart. No. Surely not.
"Don't speak about her like that." Alex's growl was positively primal.
They were talking about her! Good lord, was nothing sacred? At least Alex didn't rise to Northbridge's baiting.
"You did, didn't you?" Northbridge said again. It was difficult to tell whether he was pleased or not, but he didn't sound disappointed or disgusted. But then as far as he was concerned, she was another conquest for Alex to add to his tally.
"None of your business," Alex said.
"Oh come now, of course it's my business in that it relates to our wager."
Wager? What wager?
"It has nothing to do with that," Alex said. "My relationship with Miss Appleby is a private matter and in no way affects whether she is staying or going."
Georgiana swallowed. She should not be eavesdropping on a conversation that wasn't meant for her ears. To do so was completely immoral, not to mention she might hear something she wouldn't want to.
Poppycock. If they didn't want to be overheard they shouldn't speak loud enough for a passing servant to hear. Besides, it was Alex's fault for not knowing the wall adjoining the service stairs was terribly thin. She sat down on the step and leaned closer.
"Here," Alex was saying, "take this vowel. If you see Crisp tell him I'll draw one up for him too."
A vowel? Alex was giving North an I.O.U. and Sir Oswyn Crisp too? Why in heaven's name was the spymaster involved in the wager which seemed to center around Georgiana remaining in the Mount Street townhouse?
And how much had it cost Alex to lose?
"But the week isn't quite over yet," Northbridge said. "There's another day by my calculations. Are you folding, Redcliff?"
"Yes," Alex said. "I've changed my mind. I like having her around so I'm forfeiting the wager."
"Good lord." Northbridge sounded flabbergasted. "I never thought I'd hear you say that after the way you greeted her arrival. Sour, didn't you call her?"
Sour? Alex had called her sour?
"And tight," Northbridge added.
Georgiana crossed her arms and scowled at the wall. He'd called her tight to her face that first day but she'd not expected him to describe her as such to his friend, or to anyone! Some conversations ought to remain private.
Such as the one she was overhearing. She rose to go.
"As I said, I've changed my mind," Alex said. "Miss Appleby is a delight to have around."
Perhaps she would stay a little longer—it might be enlightening.
"You'll hear no argument from me," Northbridge said. "I've found her highly entertaining company on the few occasions we've met."
"And I don't want her to leave just yet."
"Aha. Your plan has changed, hasn't it?" Northbridge said, a wicked edge to his voice.
"It has."
"It must involve prolonging your injuries somehow," Northbridge said thoughtfully. "As your nursemaid, that would keep her here. Have you taken up fencing again? That ought to open up the wound nicely."
"No, but I might." Two sets of laughter greeted her burning ears.
Georgiana frowned. Of all the foolish things to do! Men certainly were irresponsible creatures at times.
"I could always give you a good punch on your bad arm to draw a bit of claret," Northbridge said. "It's the right, isn't it?"
"You can stop sizing up my arm, thank you North, I'll manage on my own."
Northbridge sighed. "Very well. Anyway, I'm off. Tattersalls have a nice pair of grays I want to take a look at. Care to join me?"
"No thanks, I've no need for new horses."
"Neither have I but there's always room for a good matching pair in the stables. Good luck with your sweet apple, but will you listen to a word of advice before I go?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Careful, Redcliff." Georgiana leaned closer to the wall the better to hear Northbridge. Usually he was so jolly and mischievous but the cadence of his voice had changed to a rich, deep one of total authority. Much like Alex's. "You've only known her a few days."
"I know what I'm doing."
"Do you? You're speaking of making your injuries worse to keep her here, that doesn't sound like a wise move."
"I think you'd better go, North."
Georgiana's insides twisted. Oh. Dear. God. She'd been too blinded by her warring emotions to see it but Northbridge had inadvertently hit on the truth—Alex knew Georgiana would stay for as long as it took to wean him off the opium. She'd said so herself. If he kept smoking it, she would not leave.
She leaned her forehead against the cool wall and closed her eyes. Stupid, stupid woman. How could she not have known this would happen? Everything had changed between them after they made love. She cared for him, and although she wasn't sure if he cared for her, he certainly desired her enough to want her to stay now.
It would seem she could cause him more damage by remaining in the house.
"Very w
ell," Lord Northbridge said. "But best not to tell your Aunt until you're sure what the future holds. Don't want to upset the poor thing unnecessarily, do you?"
"Don't worry about Aunt Harry," Alex snapped. "Didn't you say you were going?"
Northbridge said goodbye and Georgiana heard the door to the study open and close. She dragged herself up the next flight of stairs and emerged from the servants' stairwell through a door disguised to blend into the hallway's paneling near her room. Once inside, she removed her straw bonnet and sank onto her bed.
She agonized for an hour over what to do, using as much rationality as she could muster through her tumultuous thoughts. In the end, there was only one conclusion.
She had to leave.
She rose from the bed and sat at her dressing table, pulling the inkstand and a piece of paper to her. She wrote the few necessary lines then put on her bonnet again and made her way back down the service stairs, out past the servant offices and up to the street level. She quickly walked along Mount Street in the direction of Sir Oswyn's place of business. She hoped he would be there but if he wasn't, she could leave her letter of resignation with his clerk. If Sir Oswyn followed through on his threat to spread rumors about her previous affair with Lawrence then so be it. She would have to endure the consequences. She could endure them. For Alex.
She would be gone by tomorrow morning, before he rose.
CHAPTER 13
Georgiana arrived back at the Mount Street house to a very excited Phillippa jumping up and down on her toes as if she wore springs on her feet. She flapped a piece of paper in front of Georgiana's nose as Worth closed the front door. It smelled faintly of roses.
"Oh Georgiana, look what just arrived."
Georgiana tried to look but the paper moved too much for her to gather anything useful from it. "What is it?"
"An invitation. For you!"
"For me? To where?"
"To the Duffields' dinner party tonight of course." Phillippa handed the thick cream colored paper to Georgiana. "Well, it's not actually an invitation, it's a letter inviting you to join us. Lady Duffield must have seen you walking with us in Hyde Park and decided to include you in the party. Isn't it wonderful! Now we can all go together. And even better, you know what this means, don't you?" The poor girl looked ready to burst.
