"I have good reason to doubt the success of your plan," Simon admitted.
"You doubt me? After all I have done to earn the title Lord Wastrel?"
Simon cuffed his friend on the shoulder. "Perhaps I would have fewer doubts if you were named Lord Wedded Bliss. Still, you are correct. I must persuade her my reprehensible behavior has changed, but my love for her has not, and never will."
"And if it does not persuade her, then you are well and truly cursed."
Another cuff on the shoulder obliterated Hugh's satisfied grin.
Chapter 5
"How did I ever believe Simon loved me?" Georgiana threw herself onto the nearby chaise longue, realizing in a further fit of pique her behavior rivaled that of a Drury Lane actress. "I was to wed the most perfect man—"
Her best friend Lady Felicia Selby chuckled. "Perfectly rakish, yes."
Georgiana glared. "I cannot hear anyone speak ill of him."
"You are the only one permitted that luxury," Felicia said with another laugh.
Georgiana smiled, albeit reluctantly. "Yes, I know I should despise him. And I do. But at the same time I still love him." She sighed. "You see? I have been well and truly cursed."
"My family is cursed, you know."
"How could that possibly bring you such delight?"
"Because it's not really a bad curse," Felicia explained.
"Perhaps you should enlighten me, for I am at a loss to describe you, or your family, as cursed. You are as rich as Croesus, and beautiful." It was no secret how much attention Felicia's auburn curls and vivacious manner garnered from every male she encountered. "You have also been blessed with a generous heart and all manner of envious personality traits." Georgiana frowned. "No, I cannot in good faith call you cursed."
"It's part of the family lore. How we can only marry our one true love."
"That is everyone's desire." Georgiana inhaled an uneven breath. "It had even been mine once."
Felicia's blue eyes were filled with compassion. "Yes, but the legend has it that we shall be cursed to fall in love with someone who is by all appearances the wrong person for us."
"It seems I have been cursed with that as well." Georgiana managed a half-hearted grin. "It also explains your penchant for eloping every fortnight."
Felicia waved a hand in dismissal. "I am fortunate I discover their unsuitability before we arrive at the church."
"And you do so with your reputation intact," Georgiana marveled.
Felicia's laugh was an infectious one. "That is one benefit to being the sister of a very eligible duke."
"It has earned you a dashing nickname. 'Flighty Felicia'. While I am sure to be known as 'Georgiana the Gullible' for the rest of my born days."
She sniffed and then pulled Felicia into a desperate hug, needing solace while her heart ached so.
"Why did I not heed everyone's warnings about Simon? Even my mother had expressed her doubts, many times over, about this union."
In truth, Mama had railed about rakes so often Georgiana had stopped listening to her lectures, wishing she had her safe, stolid father to chat with instead. If only she had chosen someone like him.
But, to her regret, she had reveled in the excitement of being squired about town by a rake. She had enjoyed the envious expressions from those who had completely ignored her previously.
She had fallen in love—as had every female in London—almost the instant she had set eyes on Simon. And he had professed his love for her soon thereafter.
Everything had happened so quickly, it was no wonder Georgiana had not known until too late she had fallen in love with a faithless cad.
Fortunately she had not gone so far as to ruin her reputation, although it might be a while before she would be considered marriageable again. Not that she could ever consider marriage to anyone but Simon. She would rather spend the rest of her days on Wallflower Row, listening to the Dowager disparage the latest batch of rogues bedeviling the ton.
Felicia squeezed her tightly, providing comfort in the way only a lifelong friend can. "Perhaps he had good cause for the delay—"
Georgiana sat up, putting Felicia at arm's length. "There might have been an acceptable explanation for being late. I nearly forgave him for that terrible lapse. But there can be no good reason for those ladybirds attending him. I am not even supposed to know they exist!"
"But surely his worst behavior is behind him now."
"Or perhaps it is the commencement of even more dreadful scandals. If I forgive this, he may well strive to outdo Lord Wastrel in shocking me, and the ton."
"I am inclined to believe Hugh is responsible for those women," Felicia said. "I have known him since I was a child, and he has always been a rogue."
"You sound like the Dowager now," Georgiana grumbled. "But it was Lord Rakehell's name ringing throughout the chapel that day."
Felicia did not answer, but it was clear she did not think so little of the man. Georgiana felt a moment's remorse for casting Simon in such a horrible light, merely to assuage her unrelenting doubts. Especially since she wanted to leap to his defense each time she uttered anything against him.
What a hopeless muddle it was.
"The most distressing part—" No, she could not confess such thoughts, even to her dearest friend.
"What is the most distressing part?"
Georgiana shook her head, biting her lip to keep the words from escaping.
"I insist. If you do not tell me, I shall tickle you until you do! Or I might pinch you." Felicia began pressing her fingers together in an ominous fashion. "You know what an excellent pincher I am."
Georgiana held up her hands in defeat. "I shall tell you!" She breathed a sigh of relief when Felicia's fingers were safely hidden in the folds of her muslin morning dress. "But it is not something we usually discuss. Or should discuss."
Felicia grinned. "I cannot wait then."
"It is patently obvious I should have taken more time to know Simon better. But each time I was in his company, I felt—"
A rush of memories made her face heat so intensely she could only hope she did not set the silk cushions of the chaise longue ablaze.
"What? What was it you felt?"
How could Georgiana possibly explain such sensations? She had never anticipated being so wanton, yet with Simon, it had seemed perfectly natural. His leisurely kisses, his surreptitious touches, his obvious delight at her responses. . .
She shivered. Yet as pleasurable as it had been, it still did not make it easy to describe. Especially to a young miss who had even less knowledge of the topic than Georgiana.
"I felt—stirrings."
Felicia frowned, unable to decipher her meaning. "What sort of stirrings?"
Georgiana could not help but remember all the times Simon had elicited the most delectable, utterly sinful stirrings. Her body had clamored for his touch as soon as he entered a room. Even now she wanted his hands gliding over her skin, slowly moving aside her clothing so he could tempt her—
"Georgie! What do you mean by 'stirrings'?"
She gulped. "Urges. He made me feel desperately. . .urgent." She waved a hand vaguely. "Everywhere."
Felicia's eyes widened. She snuggled closer before whispering, "Was it wonderful?"
Georgiana sighed, blushing at the same time. "You have no idea how wonderful."
"I envy you! I have never felt that, for any of the gentlemen with whom I've eloped."
Georgiana gave her an exasperated look. "Then why do you elope with them?"
"They all appear to have potential, at the beginning," she answered with a grin. "But now I see I shall have to reconsider their qualifications before I hie off to another wedding."
The mention of wedding threw Georgiana's spirits into a downward spiral. Without a wedding, there was no hope of experiencing urges or stirrings with Simon. Ever again.
That dire thought had her reaching for her handkerchief once more. But then she remembered it had been missing since the day
of her ill-fated nuptials. It had disappeared, along with her hopes of a happy and passionate future.
She could feel her bottom lip quivering, readying itself for the bout of tears sure to follow.
"I am convinced you can trust Simon," Felicia said, giving Georgiana another heartfelt squeeze. "He loves you. I cannot believe he would dare to break your heart anew."
"Perhaps that is true," Georgiana conceded. "But I am not convinced I can trust my own feelings. How can I know for certain I am not being guided solely by my—"
"Urges?"
"Yes! My greatest fear is that I agreed to marry him simply because of these urges. In truth, they may have misled me from the very beginning, clouding my judgment." She sniffed. "One evening at dinner with Mama, my mind drifted to the last time Simon had made me feel such stirrings, and. . .I believe Mama knew precisely what I was thinking!"
She hid her heated face in Felicia's shoulder.
"Georgie, you must seek out a rapprochement with him, at once. I am convinced he is the husband for you."
"No one else has caused such sensations in me," Georgiana admitted.
"Which should cause you to feel hopeful, not fearful," Felicia exclaimed.
"He is a notorious rake! How could he be considered one without possessing such talents? He may be plying his skills on another gullible miss at this very moment."
"If that were true, he would not have asked you to be his bride."
"Possibly," Georgiana answered, tempted by her friend's logic. "But even so, it is not likely such sensations can form the basis of a long-lasting marriage."
Felicia nodded as they both contemplated the many unions of their acquaintance, none of which seemed filled with any urges, passionate or otherwise. "But surely there are other reasons you love Simon."
"Of course. There are many reasons. His appreciative laugh whenever I mocked his rakish behavior. His continued kindness to the Dowager at every social gathering we attended. His unbridled enjoyment of each moment we spent together."
Felicia beamed, as if she had won Georgiana over to her way of thinking. "Your heart is telling you what you must do."
Georgiana envied Felicia's ability to follow her heart's desire, without a care for the consequences.
But as much as Georgiana loved Simon, her heart was tender, and unsure, and unwilling to suffer through additional pain after her wedding day failure.
"It is telling me I cannot make another mistake," she finally answered.
Felicia bit back a sigh. "What shall you do then?"
"I must do something," Georgiana said, with determination. "I have never been prone to tears, and I have expended a lifetime's worth this past fortnight. I am eager to return to a more normal existence."
"Perhaps it is time to make a public appearance," Felicia suggested. "The Eversby ball would be an excellent choice, since Hugh informed me Simon is attending." Before Georgiana could protest, Felicia added, "I shall be with you, so you need not face Simon, or those wretched gossips, alone."
Georgiana's heart thudded, but was it with dread, or excitement? She did not know anymore.
"And now you must tell me more about these stirrings," Felicia said with a devilish grin. "I am certain I shall have need of this information in the future."
Georgiana could only hope she would have the opportunity to utilize it in the future as well.
Chapter 6
Georgiana made her way through the ballroom, pretending not to see the gossips whispering behind their carved ivory fans. If she were lucky, they were chattering about Felicia and her current elopement, not the fact that this was Georgiana's first appearance since her ill-fated wedding.
It was not easy to ignore the pitying stares from every debutante and society matron in attendance, but if the ton was intent on discussing her wedding day disgrace by a notorious rake, then Georgiana would insist it be done in her presence. In truth, it was more heartbreaking to remain at home, wondering if Simon was at the same rout or ball she had declined to attend, enjoying himself while she fumed over his perfidy.
She preferred to see for herself how he chose to entertain himself rather than read about his exploits in the newspapers, the way the Dowager did. Though she had no doubt Lady Thornham would be happy to inform her of anything she gleaned from her daily examination of the scandal sheets.
Georgiana continued her slow turn about the opulent room, nodding and smiling, ensuring everyone could see how unscathed she was by the latest nine days' scandal. She merely had to stay the requisite amount of time, and then she could depart without it appearing as though she were fleeing.
Another flurry of whispers caught her attention. She craned her head to see who had supplanted her, feeling a moment's sympathy for the poor unfortunate soul, even while she was relieved to be replaced by Society's voracious quest for new gossip.
Everyone was transfixed by the guest entering the ballroom. The crowd instantly parted, as if the Prince Regent himself had appeared.
Only it was not royalty, it was Simon, and he was headed her direction.
Georgiana's heart fluttered at an alarming rate. He should merely give her a polite bow, or a discreet nod from across the room. Their social obligations would be met and they could carry on with chilly politeness, as if they had not nearly plighted their troth mere weeks ago.
Instead, Simon strode across the ballroom, bold as you please, his gaze holding hers. She nearly faltered at the blatant determination in his eyes. He wanted her. There was no doubting that. But what, precisely, did he want?
She watched, along with the rest of the guests, as he made his way across the room. He slowed his gait, knowing full well it emphasized his elegant carriage, as well as his muscular legs in black silk breeches. A lock of hair fell across his forehead, and he brushed at it, negligently, never taking his eyes off Georgiana.
A secret part of her was thrilled at his audacity. He was giving her time to melt into the crowd and disappear, if she chose to. The gleam in his eyes dared her to stay, though, taunting her with passionate memories of being in his arms, promising future intimacies, if she were brave enough to weather this current situation.
If she could find the courage to overcome her fears of a future with this beloved rogue.
Yet how could Georgiana trust that this was not yet another conquest? Perhaps he was intent on winning her submission, and demonstrating to all of London how she could never hope to resist Lord Rakehell.
The only thing she knew with any certainty was she would not suffer another public heartbreak. She still loved Simon, and most likely always would, but surely she could recover from that character frailty if she did not succumb to his wiles this evening.
Simon finally halted in front of her, his gaze lingering everywhere, making her skin tingle as he openly admired her. She could not stop the heat from flooding her entire being, but at least the gossamer satin of her dress shielded the most unruly of her body's responses.
Georgiana knew everyone was watching, eager to know how she would react. Wagers were likely being placed at that very moment in the card room.
How many were betting that she would chastise him publicly? It was a tempting notion, giving her heartache a chance to vent itself.
In the next instant she heard the people nearest to her stepping back a few paces, giving her room to faint.
Georgiana stifled her exasperation. Clearly they had placed their money on the wrong marker if they considered her so fainthearted as that.
"Lord Winbourne," she said with a welcoming smile. He had always claimed it devastated him, her smile, and she was willing to use everything available in her arsenal to deflect his devilish charms.
He chuckled and lifted her hand. It was a caress, the way his eyes watched hers while her fingers sailed upwards, waiting to meet his lips.
"Miss Kirkwood." His voice was too smooth, sliding over her skin in a most improperly intimate fashion. She shivered, unable to halt it in time, but she could at least try to disg
uise the reason for it.
"Such a chill this evening." She drew her net shawl closer.
"Quite." He glanced at the women nearby, fanning themselves in the overheated ballroom. "I can only pray you do not catch a cold."
"Oh, I am much more stalwart than that," she answered.
His lips curved up, a little too knowingly. "Indeed you are. Which makes my task so much more difficult."
"Your task?" She arched an eyebrow.
Simon gulped, but quickly hid it. "I misspoke." He glanced at her, his expression softening. "I can hardly think properly anymore. Ever since my wedding was unexpectedly cancelled."
"If it was unexpected, you have much to learn about females." She nearly blushed, remembering the ones who had accompanied him to the chapel. "At least, those you might consider wedding."
Not bedding.
Neither of them said it, but both were thinking it.
Georgiana had to fight off the urge to flee. She could not make a decision about Simon when her body was clamoring for his touch, tempting her to choose the option that could be complete ruination for her heart's future. Simon must have sensed her intent, because he squeezed her fingers, reminding her he had never relinquished her hand.
"I am truly delighted to see you this evening," he murmured. His eyes twinkled when he saw the matrons and debutantes lean in to hear their conversation. "You are by far the most stunning woman in the ballroom."
"Thank you, my lord. I see you have not lost your knack for flattery."
"The only thing I have lost," he said, his eyes genuinely sad, "is the woman who was to be my bride." He paused and then said in a low voice, almost pleading, "Dance with me."
As the musicians began to play, Georgiana gripped his hand, feeling unbalanced all of a sudden. He led her to the center of the ballroom. If she had wanted to be the shy retiring sort this evening, he was ensuring that was not a viable option.
Simon slid his arm around her waist, reminding her why she had always loved to waltz with him. He felt protective, the way he was wrapped around her, as well as devilishly seductive.
Lord Rakehell's Love (The Curse of True Love) Page 3
