When had the man grown so hard at any rate? Before His Grace remarried, Felton recalled him being in good spirits more often than not. The man used to dote on Georgie as well. She never would have been alone in Hyde Park back in those days. The duke used to go everywhere with her unless she was exploring their own properties—even then the duke could often be found nearby.
His Grace glanced away as though he was contemplating the benefits, and Felton pressed on. “It would be a win for all involved.”
“And what of my land? It would be left scarred.”
“The damage would be underground for the most part. The mine would be sealed once I was done. There would not be an excessive amount of damage.”
The duke snapped his attention back to Felton. “Let me make this clear for you. No way in hell am I going to allow you or anyone else to mine my land.” He crossed his leg over his opposite knee and settled back into the chair. “Now if you will excuse me.”
This was most certainly not the Duke of Balfour that Felton remembered.
He stood, opened his mouth to offer a higher percentage, then pressed his lips together. The duke’s steely gaze told him there would be no changing his mind. He’d be best to leave while he still maintained some dignity. As for his future…he’d find a way.
“It was not my doing.” Georgina sighed.
The duchess rubbed her swollen belly. “Lady’s do not simply tumble into lakes.”
Georgina fought the urge to roll her eyes. The duchess had been interrogating her without pause all afternoon. Georgie would have already lost all patience for it if she’d not been blessed with a full night’s sleep before the questioning started. “This lady did.”
“How? I want to know what happened yesterday, and if you cannot produce the truth, you will not be leaving the confines of this house for a fortnight.” The duchess stared at her with a satisfied grin.
“I already told you. Someone called out a warning and the next thing I knew I was near drowning.”
“That is when Mr. Crauford rescued you?” She arched one wicked black eyebrow in challenge.
“Yes.”
“Who else saw this…incident unfold?”
Georgie plucked an imaginary piece of lint from the pleat of her silk skirt. “When I regained my senses, and looked about I saw no one.”
“Then who called out the warning?”
“I haven’t any idea.” Georgina tipped her chin. “Perhaps you should question the footman who accompanied me.”
“Do refrain from making such ludicrous ideas. I am well aware of your nature and doubt I would receive honest answers as you have surely charmed every servant in this household.”
It would not be hard for Georgina to charm the servants when her stepmother was so wicked to them. For many years, it was only her father and the servants…they were more her family than the woman before her. They cared for her more, too. Georgina fidgeted in the wingback chair wanting very much to be done with this. “I have done no such thing, but since you have such little faith in me, you might consider asking Mr. Crauford.”
The duchess’s eyes lit as though she’d uncovered a great secret. “Have you been compromised?”
“No.” Georgie’s cheeks flamed half in anger at the absurd accusation and half in embarrassment because she’d very much wished for him to kiss her when she’d been in his arms.
The duchess narrowed her eyes. “Have you and Mr. Crauford been intimate?”
Georgie sprung from her chair. “You are insulting me outright. I will not stand for it.”
“Sit.” Ice dripped from the duchess’s voice.
After drawing in a deep breath and stiffening her shoulder’s Georgie glared at the duchess. “I want to see my father at once.”
“All you are to see is the inside of your bedchamber.”
Georgie fled the room, her heart pounding, slippered feet smacking across the polished wood floorboards and carpets as she made her way toward her father’s office. The nerve of that woman, insulting her honor, locking her away, and trying to keep her from Father. She’d taken all she could stand. Something had to change and soon.
She simply had to make a success of herself as an archer.
“Proper young women do not run across houses, Lady Bug.”
Felton! Drat! Why did he keep showing up? She skidded to a stop and turned. “Do refrain from following me about and showing up at my home. It is most unsettling.”
“The way you refrained from chasing me about when we were children? Yes, I do know the feeling.” He gave a roguish smirk. “As hard as it may be for you to believe I am not here for you. The world does not center on you, Georgie.”
“I am in no mood, Mr. Crauford.”
He stepped closer. Taking her chin between his fingers, he angled her head until their gazes met. “I have always been Felton to you.”
“It is not proper to be so familiar now that we have both left the schoolroom.” She jerked away. “Please leave me be.” Her chin quivered as she fought back tears.
“Very well. But before I grant your wish, I will require a boon from you.”
Good heavens, the man was insufferable. Why the devil did he insist upon tormenting her? And why does he feel entitled to anything from her? She gave him a cool look. “And what might that be?”
“Tell me what I did to anger you so?”
Georgie glanced away. “What difference does it make? As you said, I am of no significance.” Not to her father, nor her stepmother, and certainly not to Felton. Her heart fractured, tears stinging her eyes.
“That is not what I meant.” He placed a hand on the small of her back.
The intimate touch warmed her and her skin tingled beneath the heat of his hand. “Regardless, I am not your problem. Please go.” She pulled away, then mounted the stairs with haste, desperate to reach the safety of her room.
“Lady Bug.”
The fall of his Hessians trailed behind her.
“Stop this nonsense. You will fall and break your neck.”
She went stiff when he reached for her, his hand gripping her elbow.
“You are behaving very strange indeed, and I demand to know the reason.”
She drew a deep, cleansing breath, then turned to him. “Very well. I am angry because you continue to treat me with too much familiarity. We have grown up, and as a result, our friendship is no longer acceptable.”
“Nonsense.”
He spoke the word close to her ear. His low and raspy voice sent a shiver down her spine. A pleasant sensation that had her wishing for more. What would it be like to have his hands on her skin? His lips pressed to hers? The mask of anger she used to cover her hurt fell away as she gazed at him not at all sure what to do or say.
“Mr. Crauford,” the duchess said, her voice shrill.
Georgie jumped, her attention turning toward the duchess. She stood at the base of the stairs looking up at them, her hand on her belly, and a deep scowl on her face.
“This is not what it appears.” Felton descended the stairs, coming to stand near the duchess. “Lady Georgina was upset and took the steps much too fast. I feared for her safety and had to stop her.”
“He speaks the truth.” Georgina prayed the duchess would believe them. “I was on my way to my room and he was…” She looked to Felton. “Why are you here?”
“I was meeting with His Grace.”
The duchess turned to him. “Oh, and does the duke know of your shenanigans with his daughter?”
“Your Grace, I assure you nothing untoward has happened.”
The duchess doubled over, a scream emitting from somewhere deep within her. She clutched her swollen belly with one hand and the banister with the other.
Georgie met Felton’s eyes.
He stared at her, panic etched in the lines of his face. “What is going on here?”
Good God, the duchess was having the baby. “She is about to give birth.”
Georgie looked around, searching for he
lp, her gaze lighted on a nearby servant. “You, come quickly. The duchess is in labor.” When she turned back, Felton already had the duchess cradled in his arms. Gone was the panic she’d seen in his eyes moments before as he faced her radiating strength and confidence.
“Where is her room?” he asked.
“Follow me.” Georgie led him to the duchess’s room, her mind spiraling the whole way. She needed to send for Father and the midwife. She gave orders to servants as she passed along the way, her heart hammering with uncertainty.
Felton settled the duchess on her large, four-post bed before turning back to Georgie. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“Go get Father. I will stay with her.” Georgie sank into a chair near the bed. She had the unwelcome feeling that everything was about to change as she watched the duchess panting and holding her belly.
Chapter 5
“I know I should be pleased, but I cannot help the way I feel.” Georgina flopped down on a chaise in Adeline’s family drawing room. Her skirt’s billowed out around her. “You should have seen the way Father marched right past me to slobber all over the new baby. He did not as much as glance at me. Truly, it was as if I did not exist.”
Adeline took Georgie’s hands in hers. “I am sorry.”
“It gets worse. Once Father had the baby in his arms and had dropped a kiss on the duchess’s head, he ordered a thank you note sent to Felton. Can you believe it? Felton of all people, when he could not even be bothered with his own daughter? The daughter who stayed by his wife’s side through the whole ordeal—all sixteen hours of it.”
“Not to minimize the way your father treated you, but I have to know. Are you referring to the same Felton you were mooning over when you arrived at school?” Adeline raised one eyebrow as she stared at Georgie.
“I did not moon over him.” Georgie sighed as she flipped open her fan. In spite of her denial, she secretly acknowledged Adeline’s words as true. The mere fact that Adeline recalled his name proved Georgie must have been worse than she’d thought. “He keeps showing up at my house and was in Hyde Park, too.”
“Do, go on. I am most curious.” Adeline’s eyes sparkled with amusement and curiosity as she settled more comfortably on the chaise beside Georgie.
“After Josie left, I decided to stroll along the Serpentine and he showed up just in time to witness my disgrace of tumbling into the lake.”
Adeline snickered. “I can only imagine. Pray tell me everything.”
Georgina recounted all that had happened including her stepmother’s interrogation and how the duchess had caught her with Felton on the staircase. “It was all most disconcerting not to mention highly embarrassing.”
Adeline stood, then reached into her bodice. “I have something that may cheer you up.”
“Oh.” Georgie tilted her chin as Adeline pulled a white card full of scrawling black ink from the confines of her gown.
Adeline smiled as she handed it to Georgie. “This came for Theo yesterday. She was busy with Alistair so I accepted it. Of course, my curiosity demanded I take a peek and…well go on, read it.”
Georgie turned her attention to the card.
Lady Archer One,
There is to be a small tournament in the East End tomorrow at five in the afternoon. This is by invitation only, and I am exceedingly pleased to extend said invitation to yourself as well as Lady Archer Two. Having no knowledge of who Lady Archer Two is, I ask that you please extend this invitation to her.
Entry is one shilling, winner takes all. Near High Street on the bank of the Thames.
Georgie looked up at Adeline. “Does Theo know of this?”
“No. Alistair would frown on it, and she would not compete at any rate. Theo is all about her maps now.” Adeline sat back down, angling herself toward Georgie. “You should go. Take Josie as your second.”
“But Theo is Lady Archer one.”
“Your point?” Adeline narrowed her eyes.
Georgie smoothed her skirt. “All of London, maybe all of England, knows Lady Archer one’s identity. They will expect Theo.”
“But you are Lady Archer Two and have every right to compete. The invitation even asks for you. No one will know that Josie does not belong as long as you two conceal your identities.”
Even as Adeline spoke, Georgie knew her words to be true. Still, the idea of taking Josie along did not sit well. The East End could be a dangerous place and Josie did not possess the strength of the rest of them. She was meek by nature. Taking her along would prove more of a distraction and burden than anything else.
“I will go, but I’m doing so alone.” Georgie held the invitation out toward Adeline. “I do not wish to be distracted.”
Adeline waved her hand. “Keep it. You may require it to compete.”
Georgie slipped the parchment into her hidden skirt pocket. “I cannot take my carriage.”
“Leave it here and take one of our guest horses.” Adeline’s eyes lit. “I am coming with you. I’ll pretend to be Theo, taking the place of Lady Archer One.”
“How?” Alistair kept a close watch over her these days—even more so than before. He would be beside himself to learn that she had ventured into the East End again after what happened a few months ago at Cheapside.
“I will simply tell my brother that we are going riding.” She smirked. “Theo has him busy helping her today, so he won’t have time to think about me.”
Georgie closed her fan. “We must hurry if we are to make it by five.”
“Of course. But before we leave, we need riding habits. It will not do to give Alistair any cause to question me. We require hooded cloaks as well, and masks would be fun.” Adeline stood and waved her hand toward the door. “Come along.”
Georgie followed her to her bedchamber where Adeline’s maid assisted them to change into riding habits. Once the maid left, Adeline produced two black masks and handed one to Georgie. Her heart fluttered with excitement as she concealed the mask beneath her cloak. This was just the kind of adventure she needed.
Felton walked toward the bank of the Thames, his bow in hand. Ahead of him, a group of six men stood with their own bows at the ready. To his right, and several feet down, stood a row of nine archery targets. Whoever arranged for this tourney must be expecting two final archers to arrive.
His curiosity was piqued as the archers already assembled surprised him. Two appeared to belong here in the East End, their faces dirty, bows worn, and clothing stained. The other four looked to be more well off, possibly even of the gentry, one of which he knew for certain was. Lord Gilford, Earl of Dodgeford, held an arrow in front of him, turning it as he ran a finger down its length.
Felton recognized all of these men, though he did not know them personally, did not even know most of their names. What he did know was that they were all acclaimed archers. He had witnessed each of them competing at one tournament or another, and he’d stake his bet that Gilford was responsible for this assemblage.
The man believed himself to be the best archer in all of England. Perhaps he had decided to prove his superior skill by inviting them all here. He studied the man as he approached the group. What a pity for Lord Gilford that Felton’s skills were better developed. Hopefully, Gilford would not be too sore when he lost.
Reaching into his pocket, Felton wrapped his fingers around a shilling. He came to a halt before the group and trained his gaze on Gilford. “To whom do I pay my entry?”
“My man of business will hold the funds.” Gilford nodded toward a dark-haired, bespectacled man leaning against a nearby tree.
Felton gave a nod, then turned away. He had pegged Gilford right, not that it surprised him. He dropped his shilling into the businessman’s palm and gave his name before returning to the group. Facing Gilford once more, he asked, “Why here? In the East End?”
“Adds to the ambiance, don’t you agree?”
Felton pressed his lips into a tight line. He cared not for games, and Gilford certainly was
playing at something. Still, he could not stop his interest from running his tongue. “I see we are expecting two more archers.”
“Indeed.”
“Might I inquire as to who they are?” Felton glanced at the other men.
One of the less astute among them whipped sweat from his brow. “We have all been asking.”
Gilford glanced at a set of approaching horses, then grinned at the men. “Here they are now.”
“Lady Archer One and Two, I presume?” another man said.
“Indeed.” Gilford strode toward the set of riders.
Felton had heard of the famed lady archers. It was rumored they were quite good. Lady Archer One was said to be unbeatable after winning the Grand Archer’s Championship a few months ago. He had read about the tournament in The Times. What was her name? Lady something…he searched his memory but could not recall.
“Lady Theodora,” a blond-haired man in pristine garments said.
Yes, that was her name. For weeks after the tournament people speculated as to whom Lady Archer Two might be. Felton had read a dozen gossip pieces and speculation articles to the effect, but her identity was never discovered. When the ladies failed to show themselves at the next few big tournaments, the speculation and gossip died out, replaced by some other folly that caught society’s attention.
The dirty fellow beside him glanced toward the newly arrived women. “I thought she retired from competing.”
“I wonder what made them decide to enter the sport now,” Felton mused aloud, gazing at the targets. If Lady Archer One were as good as she was alleged to be, he would need all of his skills to win.
“Has she ever been bested?”
“Not that I am aware of.”
“Come now, gentlemen. They are only women. Surely you are not intimidated by a set of skirts.” One of the men chuckled.
Felton turned his attention back to the group, then beyond to where the ladies walked alongside Gilford. Both wore long hooded cloaks that cast shadows over their masked faces. Perhaps they meant to intimidate their competition by remaining mysterious? Though that reasoning only made sense for Lady Theodora’s companion since her own identity was known. She had been unmasked at the Grand Archer’s Championship.
Lady Archer's Creed 02 - Georgina Page 5
