To his intense relief, the woman looked up, and under the deep shadow of her bonnet, he saw Georgiana's pale face.
"What in the name of hell are you doing here? Why did you leave Fox Hall?"
She drew herself up to her full height, meeting his gaze with her own. Tristan had to marvel at it in a way. Despite their strange situation, she gave no indication that she had done anything wrong.
"My business is my own, and I do not owe any account to you."
Tristan laughed. "That's a damned lie, darling. You dragged me into this, and I'll be damned if you think you can do as you please without regard for anything around you. I'll ask you again. What in the hell are you doing? Why are you dressed in black?"
Of course, he would not have expected a woman as stubborn or as spirited as Georgiana to give way so easily.
"I am not telling you. Get out of my way."
When he did not display any sign he was going to do so, she skirted around his horse, setting a determined path for the roads ahead. Once there, she would have her pick, whether she wanted to go north to Scotland, south to London, or west and out to sea. Of course, Tristan didn't have any interest in letting her get so far.
"Well, if you are so set on making sure that you get where you are going, you are, of course, going to let me help you."
She started to turn her head, likely to make some kind of stinging retort, but that changed into a yelp as Tristan leaned far over in the saddle to scoop her up by the waist.
"Tristan! What in the world are you doing? Put me down!"
"I'm not going to do that, not until I get an answer from you. If that's not coming now, I'll get it later."
He threw her face down over his thighs, keeping her in place with one elbow against her back. With her head and arms hanging down one side of the horse and her legs down the other, she was helpless to move, especially when he urged the gelding up to a light canter.
"Put me down! You cannot do this to me!"
"Of course, I can. And since you have given up your chance to tell me the truth, I suppose I will just have to ask you in a little while."
Georgiana struggled a little, but when Tristan landed a brief open palm smack on her well-covered thigh, she stilled.
She stayed silent as Tristan bore her away from Fox Hall, and a little later, when he lifted her to sit sidesaddle in front of him, she made no noise of protest at all.
* * *
Less than hour later, they were in front of a small and pleasant cottage some little way away from Fox Hall, and Tristan could sense Georgiana looking around curiously as he unlocked the door.
"This is one of the Carrow properties in the area. When I knew we were going to be in Devon, I asked the local caretaker to air it out for me."
"And what are we doing here, exactly?"
Tristan opened the door for her, and he was gratified when she entered without a word of protest. He found a box of matches to light the lamps, and he started setting some of the logs from the bin into the hearth.
"We're here because I couldn't find you at Fox Hall."
"You went looking for me?"
"I did. I have a list of the servants who were working at Fox Hall when we had our... time together. I think if you could get one of the servants who are present now, this might go some distance toward getting us the identity of the blackmailer... No?"
Georgiana was shaking her head, her hands pressed to her forehead.
"No. No, I don't want to think of this anymore. This is too much. The blackmailer is a monster, and I cannot find a way to beat him. If I just... leave... he will lose whatever leverage he had. My family's legacy won't be irreparably tarnished by my foolishness, my father will be untroubled, as will my brother..."
She looked utterly miserable, and Tristan's first instinct was to go to her, to wrap her up in an embrace and tell her that everything was going to be all right.
This was Georgiana, however, and she would sooner take a bullet than allow someone to comfort her with platitudes. Instead, he watched her for a moment, and then shook his head.
"You know that you are being a fool, right?" His voice was cool, calculated to needle her pride.
Her head shot up. In the flickering light of the hearth, her eyes were as bright as diamonds. "Please, tell me more about that. I love it when men call me a fool."
"I think this has more to do with your damned father than it does the blackmailer. As a matter of fact, Georgiana, we have beaten the blackmailer once, and I have every confidence that we will beat him again. We thwarted his plan to reveal you to the curate, and we have taken one of his pieces of leverage, that damned letter, away. We may not have beaten him yet, but we will."
Georgiana snorted. "You were obviously eavesdropping on my conversation with my father, so you know very well what he thinks. I have always walked a very fine line between being daring and verging on disgracing my family, but this is the first time I have ever gone so far."
"Your father's issues have more to do with me than they do with you."
"You think you know my father so well?"
"I have known plenty of men like him. He likes his way, and he needs his children to be reflections of who he is and what he believes. Thomas gets away with more because he is a firstborn and only son. You... get whatever attention he deems appropriate."
Georgiana's eyes dropped, and he could tell that she agreed with him, even if she was not ready to admit it.
"I cannot believe that you of all people are lecturing me about defying my family."
"Why not? Carrows might be staid stick-in-the-muds, but we can usually be expected to know what's right, even if it stands in defiance of what came before."
Georgiana finally came to sit down on an ottoman, close to the fire. Tristan let go of a breath he wasn't quite aware he was holding. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had gotten lucky. If Georgiana had made it to the main roads, it would have taken a miracle for him to find her. Now that she was seated next to him in the growing warmth and light from the fire, he felt almost shaky with relief.
"I don't know what happens next." Her voice was small, and he wanted to sweep her up into his arms again. Instead, he reached down to tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear.
"We'll figure it out, I promise."
* * *
Chapter 30
Georgiana watched skeptically as she watched Tristan handle the small pan. He maneuvered it with a surprising amount of skill over the fire, but the bubbling mixture inside did not give her a great deal of confidence.
"If you were just going to make a mess, we might have just returned to Fox Hall."
"I'm not going to make a mess. This is fine."
Tristan poured a small amount of beer from a bottle he had gotten somewhere into the pan, sending up a hissing cloud of steam. Georgiana had to admit that the alcohol on the mess in the pan produced a wonderful smell. Her stomach rumbled; she hadn't had much of an appetite at supper.
After stirring for a few more moments, Tristan stood and poured the bubbling mixture over four slices of bread, two to a plate, and he handed one of the plates to her along with a fork.
"They call it Welsh rarebit up to the north. Get that down you; it's better hot."
"Rabbit? I didn't see you put any meat into the pan."
"You didn't. It's not rabbit at all. Just trust me."
The worst part was that she did. She cautiously forked a bite into her mouth, and then her eyes widened. It was better than it had any right to be, far better than it looked, and she ate as quickly as she dared, given how hot it was.
When she finally looked up, Tristan was eating more slowly while watching her with a smile. She scowled.
"What?"
"Mostly just thinking of how lovely you are when you don't know anyone's looking."
Georgiana snorted. "Does that line work well for you when you are in the bordellos?"
"I've never gone to a bordello, and I suppose if you are spirited enough to in
sult me, we should talk about what comes next. Here, take a look at this."
Georgiana looked at the list of servants who had been working at Fox Hall all those years ago, and finally, she shook her head.
"No, I think this is simply too close to a list of who is working at Fox Hall right now. I will find a more accurate accounting, but no names stand out right now. I will say it is a little chilling. Likely, somewhere on this list is the person who is blackmailing me, so innocent-looking among the others."
Tristan nodded soberly, taking the list back and putting it into his pocket. "It's a problem I have considered before, and a great deal our time was taken up by Hensbury. The day is coming when you have to give up the money or face social censure. Though..."
"Though what?"
"What if I gave you the money?"
For a moment, Georgiana wanted to take him up on it. The money was no trifling amount, but a duke could take it on much more easily than she could. Then she made herself shake her head.
"No, that's not something that we are going to be doing."
"In the name of all the saints, Georgiana, why? I have the money."
"Because you have the money, and you have more than that. Once the blackmailer realizes that, he will never stop coming after us. There will be more demands and more threats, and it will never end. I think my nerves are already shattered just from what we have seen here. They can't take more."
Tristan was scowling, but she could see that he agreed with her.
"We cannot simply pay him off, Tristan. We need to find him."
"The only time he is apt to reveal himself is when he is delivering a message. He wants to see you when you are alone. Vulnerable."
Georgiana shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. When Tristan came to drop a warm blanket over her shoulders, she was grateful. She was more grateful when he came to sit next to her, tucking her under his arm. It was a bit of a tight squeeze in the chair, but she was more than happy for it at the moment.
"I know what kind of man looks for a woman when he is vulnerable. That sounds exactly like something the blackmailer would do."
"We still have more time before he comes for you to demand the money. Not much, but some. We just need to find a way to catch the bastard."
"How? We can hardly search the servants’ quarters without someone figuring out what we're about. And what if he's not a servant at all?
Tristan scowled at her. "What are you implying?"
"What if it's someone in Town who figured out what happened between us? Fox Hall keeps guests, and we have many visitors. It is not unthinkable to consider that it might be someone from outside the hall entirely.”
"Are you accusing Eleanor?"
Georgiana winced. "I hope not. I'm just afraid that this net with the list of servants' names is at once too small and too large."
She thought for a moment that Tristan would simply laugh at her, but instead, he held her a little tighter.
"I am sorry you are going through with this. No one should have to be in a situation like this."
"You're involved in this as well, in case you have forgotten. Please don't pity me, Tristan. I do not believe I can bear it."
Tristan chuckled, and Georgiana was struck by what a sweet sound it was. Pressed as close to him as she was, she could hear it rumble through his chest. "Believe me, pity is the last thing I feel for you."
The silence stretched between them for a long moment, and when she spoke, Georgiana was aware of the fact that she might be ruining everything between them.
"What is it that you feel for me, then, Tristan? Sometimes, it is so hard to know."
At first, Georgiana did not think he was going to answer her. Finally, he leaned over to brush his lips over the fine hair at her temples, sending a soft wave of pleasure over her.
"I don't know what I felt for you when we were young, and I do not know what I feel for you now. Nothing uncomplicated, that's for sure."
"What every woman wants to hear." The words might have been bitter, but there was a humor to them. It helped, in some ways, knowing that he was just as confused by what was going on between them as she was.
"Why don't you ask me what is between us when this is all over? By then, after we have had some time and some space, we will both be able to answer that question a little more appropriately."
"Spoken like a Carrow."
"That is not such a bad thing to be, no matter what you might think."
Tristan spoke lightly, but it made Georgiana think all over again about how she had turned down his proposal. Life was surely not supposed to be this confusing. With a sigh, she rose up from the seat, turning to him.
"We should probably be getting back to Fox Hall. Right now, this still passes for a rather long walk, rather than anything sinister."
Tristan looked as reluctant as she felt to leave the warm sanctuary of the small cottage, but he nodded.
"All right. It won't take too long to get back, but we could likely both use the sleep."
She walked past him toward the door, but before she could open it, he pulled her back by the arm, startling her.
"Tristan?"
"After this is over? I would like it if you asked me what there was between us. I believe I might have an answer for you."
Georgiana's heart leaped at the thought, but from long experience, she tamped it back down again. She had already had her heart broken by Tristan Carrow. She was not ready to repeat the experience, no matter how much they had grown and changed.
He set her on his gelding with care and mounted up behind her. She didn't think she was going to get tired of feeling him snugged so close, not in her life, and as the hard-beaten road fell away beneath them, a part of her wished the ride could go on forever.
* * *
Chapter 31
When Georgiana finally returned to her own room, she felt as if she had been walking the length of the western coast. Her head felt so full she thought that if she tripped, all her wits would come spilling out.
Tristan left her at the back gate, going to stable his gelding, and she still wasn't sure what to make of the strange things he'd said.
I have been thinking of Tristan entirely too much lately.
It was very fine to tell herself that, but it was the truth. Between having Tristan back in her life and being threatened with actual blackmail, it felt as if she were being torn in two, her mind a frayed rope being worried at by two strong dogs.
Tristan had never struck her as a man who was unsure. Even when he was younger, he had always been very clear about what he wanted and what he thought the world should look like. She found the idea that he was just as confused about what was going on as she was at once terrifying and oddly comforting.
At least he believes that there will be a time after all of this is over. I'm not sure I do.
At the end of the day, however, she had to trust him. With her brother Thomas gone, she had no other real allies and no choice at all.
She entered her room bone-weary and ready to sleep out the age when her foot stepped on something that crinkled underneath her weight. For a confused moment, she thought the maid had left some litter on the ground, but then her heart went cold inside her. Deliberately, she stepped back to look down at her feet, and just as she had feared, a white envelope had been slid under the door.
Quickly, Georgiana stepped inside her room, closing the door behind her and locking it. Then she had a terrifying thought. Gathering up all her courage, she made a slow circuit of the room, leaving the paper where it had fallen for a moment. She looked behind the wall hangings and the curtains, peeked under the bed and rifled through the enormous wardrobe set back in the corner. Her heart beating fast, she checked in every place an adult might be able to hide, and it wasn't until she had ascertained that she was quite alone that she managed to draw a shaky and relieved breath.
Finally, she went to the letter and picked it up. It was completely clean, of course, with no trace of grease or
stain to give her an idea as to the identity of the sender. Despite that, it struck Georgiana that there was something unpleasant about the very touch of the envelope, something that made her want to wash her hands when she picked it up.
She was surprised and a little irritated that her first instinct was to go find Tristan. She had never felt so very dependent on a man before, and the idea of starting now was distasteful in the extreme.
In all fairness, he's involved, too...
After a few moments, however, she realized she was putting off the inevitable. She took the envelope over to the vanity, where she sat down and opened the letter with trembling hands.
It was the same scrawled handwriting as before, and before she had even read the words, Georgiana's stomach clenched tight. She swallowed hard, determined not to be such a little fool, and forced herself to read.
You think you have an ally, but you do not. The duke does not care for you. Eight days to get me my money, bitch, or else find yourself an outcast.
Georgiana shivered at the rage that seemed to reach out of the paper toward her. She had certainly dealt with the irritation and contempt of others before, but she was certain she had never felt anything like this deep hatred before.
She started to burn the envelope in the candle flame, but then she hesitated, pausing with the missive an inch from the flame. Georgiana's first instinct was to keep this from Tristan. It did not give them any new information. All it was designed to do was make her afraid.
She bit her lip. She wanted to hide it, but at the end of the day, Tristan was as involved in this affair as she was, whether he wanted to be or not.
She came to her decision and started for the door, but then she stopped herself.
No, not when there might be someone in the corridor, watching for me, following me, meaning me ill.
Instead, Georgiana crossed to the window, which opened smoothly and easily for her. Outside, a new moon hung in the sky, and it was as dark as the Devon countryside could be. It was perfect, as long as her memory of where to hold and where to swing was good.
The Duke's Hellion (Hart and Arrow) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 15
