Never Judge a Lady by Her Cover
Page 97

Her heart pounded at the words, as she struggled to believe them. As she struggled not to believe them. As she fought the twin emotions of feeling that she was betraying Duncan by even listening to the earl, and feeling as though Duncan had betrayed her bitterly by not telling her his truths before he tempted her into his arms and his life and his damn swimming pool.
Before he made her love him.
Who was he?
“Get out,” she said to the earl, low and quiet and full of threat.
“You think I won’t hurt him? You think I wouldn’t wreck him? He means nothing to me … but he seems to mean quite a bit to you. Are you sure you want me to leave? Without giving me what I ask?”
“I am sure that I do not wish to breathe your air ever again.”
He smirked. “Shouldn’t you end that sentence with ‘my lord’? You really are too comfortable with your betters, aren’t you?”
She looked to Asriel. “Get him out. He is no longer welcome here.”
“I shall give you three days,” the earl said. “Three days to confirm that everything I have said is true.”
She shook her head, turning away. She did not need three days. She knew it was true.
She did not even know his real name.
She knew about secrets. Had built a life on them.
Who was he? Why hadn’t he told her?
Why didn’t he trust her?
What is your relationship with Tremley?
What is your relationship with Chase?
The irony of her questions was not lost on her. They held too many secrets between them.
It was best, likely. Honesty made one dream.
“Anna.” She turned back to look at the earl from the open doorway as he repeated, “Three days to decide where your loyalty lies… with Chase, or with West.”
Chapter 19
… Lady G— was a vision in white at the R— Ball, it makes one wonder: If she is so beautiful at a workaday event, how will she stun at an event devoted entirely to her? It will be a lucky man who gets the closest look…
… Known as perhaps the Rogue Extraordinaire of Society’s rakes, Lord B— appears to be at risk of losing his rakish title. He was spotted climbing the steps to the home he now shares with his Lady and their three children, arms loaded with parcels and packages and something that looked suspiciously like a Christmas pudding – in April!…
Pearls & Pelisses Ladies Magazine, late-May 1833
Duncan stood in the dark gardens of Ralston House, the annual Ralston Ball beautiful and raucous behind him, waiting for Georgiana to appear.
He wanted to see her. Quite desperately.
He had meant to find her the previous day, after he’d resolved to get her out from under Chase’s thumb, but it wasn’t easy to find a woman who played two vastly different, secret roles in Society. Lady Georgiana had not been at Leighton House when West had seen Caroline home, and West no longer had access to The Fallen Angel to search for Anna, as his membership had been rescinded.
So, he’d spent the evening making arrangements for his return salvo in his war with Chase, a war that would decide any number of futures – Georgiana’s, Caroline’s, his sister’s, his own.
But he was no fool, and if all went well, his carefully laid plans would deliver him and Cynthia safety, and Georgiana and Caroline everything they wished. She would keep her secrets and get her husband. She would get the life she desired.
She’d danced every dance tonight, been partnered by some of the best and brightest in Britain. War heroes, earls, a duke known for his impressive work in the House of Lords. Every one would be a good match.
His papers – and he – had secured her a future. Secured her daughter a future. Georgiana would marry well – someone with a clean history, an unsullied title.
Perhaps even someone she could love.
He hated the bitterness that rose in him at the thought, the desperate desire to stop her from being with another. From loving anyone but him.
But he could not give her what she wished – even if he had a title… he could not promise her a future. Not one without fear.
And he would not wish that on this woman whom he loved so much.
If all went well, she would be returned to Society without a care in the world, without the shadows of her past looming, without the threat of a future without security. If his plan worked, she would be married within two weeks.
Two weeks.
The words echoed through him, the little agreement they’d made what felt like a lifetime ago. They were intelligent people. They should have known that their lives were too complicated for even two weeks of simplicity. Not that he would ever dream of calling their time together simple.
She was the most complex woman he’d ever known.
And he adored her for it.
And tonight, he would show her that, one last time – stealing one final moment with her to help her find happiness, whatever that might be.
But first, he would tell her his truths.
He heard her before he saw her – the rustling of her skirts like cannonfire in the darkness as she approached. He turned toward her, loving the way she was silhouetted by the ballroom behind. The light cast a pale golden glow over her white gown, cut dangerously, decadently low, revealing the swell of her breasts, and making him want to steal her away from this place, forever.
She stopped several feet from him, and he hated the distance between them. He stepped toward her, hoping to close it, but she stepped back. She lifted a gloved hand and brandished a small ecru square. “You left me yesterday,” she said, and the pout in her voice made him want her even more. “You cannot simply decide to summon me out of a ballroom into a dark garden.”