Read Online One Night with a Rake (Regency Rakes) by Connie Mason, Mia Marlowe - Free Book Online Page A

deflected . Georgette knew her mother was aghast at the thought of planning and giving a ball opulent enough to be attended by a royal in the space of two measly weeks.
    Georgette was doing a little deflecting of her own, trying to keep her attention on the conversation at hand. Every other minute her mind wandered back to Nathaniel and his kisses. The liquid heat of those wicked moments made her “nethers” tingle afresh with remembered warmth.
    She ought to feel chagrined about letting the kiss happen, but the feel of his mouth on hers was such an interesting experience. Much more like Mme. Charpentier’s memoirs than her mother’s cryptic advice. Since Mme. Charpentier had been so accurate in her description of a kiss and its effects, Georgette decided there were definitely some other journal entries that deserved a second reading. It would certainly be safer than allowing Nathaniel to show her more about the “pleasures of love” firsthand.
    But much less fun.
    “Of course, the royal family is still grieving Princess Charlotte, even though they’ve put off official mourning,” Lord Winthrop said. “I’m sure you’re aware that the succession is in question and until one of the royal dukes presents King George with a grandchild, niceties like full mourning must, of necessity, give way to practicalities.”
    Like getting me with child as quickly as possible after the vows are spoken.
    Lord Winthrop raised a lorgnette, a throwback to the previous generation, and gave Georgette an unhurried perusal through the lens. She resisted the urge to squirm under the man’s intense scrutiny.
    I wonder that he doesn’t ask to check my teeth for soundness.
    She also wondered about her wedding night. Would the royal duke bite her like the stallion bit the mare or kiss her into submission like Nathaniel could?
    “The royal duke undoubtedly has many pressing matters clamoring for his time,” Lady Yorkingham said carefully. “Surely two weeks is too little notice for an event to be included in his schedule.”
    “Ordinarily, you’d be correct, but I’m certain you understand the need for haste. The Duke of Cambridge has many demands upon him, but rest assured, His Highness will give the match with Lady Georgette his full consideration. May I tell the Duke of Cambridge that he should expect to attend a ball here in a fortnight?”
    Lord Winthrop lowered the lorgnette, apparently satisfied with what he’d seen. “If he’s pleased with your daughter, who knows? The ball might serve as celebration of a betrothal to be followed shortly by a royal wedding.”
    What if I’m not pleased with the Duke of Cambridge ? The words danced on Georgette’s tongue, but she wisely kept them pirouetting there. She sometimes suspected if she thought things hard enough, the words might appear in bubbles over her head like the cartoons in the tabloids.
    “I’m certain our Georgette will find favor in his eyes.” Lady Yorkingham smiled brightly at Winthrop. She’d been a celebrated beauty in her day and still retained the high-cheeked loveliness that didn’t fade. “My daughter is every inch a princess already.”
    Georgette thought that was doing it a bit too brown. Evidently, Lord Winthrop did too, because he gave a noncommittal grunt.
    “We shall leave that to His Highness to decide, but I am authorized to tell you that the duke is highly gratified with the reports he’s received concerning the Lady Georgette to date.”
    Which probably means my dowry is sized to suit .
    Lord Winthrop began to make leaving noises, clearing his throat and shifting in his seat in preparation for hauling his bulk into an upright position. Georgette rose when he did. She dipped in the correct curtsy and followed her mother as Lady Yorkingham swanned across the parlor to see Lord Winthrop out.
    Then once he was gone, her mother’s calm, collected facade shattered. Lady Yorkingham shot back across the space to the bell pull, muttering decidedly