Read Online The Ice Duchess: Scandalous Regency Widows, Book 2 by Amy Rose Bennett - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Amy Rose Bennett
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fortune hunter. So perhaps he’s more suitable than you think.”
Oh. Georgie frowned. “Jonathon told me he was in diplomatic service in Russia or perhaps it was Sweden. At any rate, I assumed he would be returning to his post before winter set in.”
Helena smiled at Georgie over the rim of her cup. “No. He’s here to stay. His days gallivanting about the Continent—and gallivanting about in general—are well and truly over I’d say.”
Georgie leaned forward and absent-mindedly selected a piece of shortbread then placed it on her plate. Damn and double damn . Markham would probably be dogging her heels until she left London. Her cold was definitely about to become much worse. Pulling her lawn handkerchief from her pocket, Georgie raised it to her nose and sniffed delicately.
“Oh, my dear. Are you all right?” asked Helena, her brow furrowing with concern. “I thought you sounded a little under the weather. I hope you haven’t caught the same cold as Phillipa.”
Georgie sighed for effect. “I’m sure it’s nothing but I should probably rest for at least the next few days.” Or weeks . Perhaps months.
“Of course. And I should go.” Helena put down her cup and reached inside her reticule. “You must get better so you can attend the dinner party I have planned for next week. A small, intimate affair.” She handed Georgie a heavily embossed ivory envelope bearing the Clan Maxwell family crest and Helena’s initials—her personal stationary. A mischievous smile quivered on her lips. “Markham shall be there. As well as a card table or two.”
Georgie took the proffered invitation as if it were an offering of hot coals. “It’s a fait accompli isn’t it? You really are quite determined to pair us off.”
Helena laughed. “Guilty as charged. But I only have your best interests at heart.”
Georgie would like to debate that, but for now, she chose not too. A sudden wave of weariness washed over her and another headache was beginning to pulse in her temple.
“You can beat him you know.”
Georgie sharpened her gaze on her friend’s face. Trust Helena to choose exactly the right type of lure to tempt her. “How?” Headache or not, she was burning to know.
Helena’s mouth curved into an enigmatic smile. “I have a plan.”
Chapter 4
L atimer House , A week later...
I nwardly ruing the need to keep a clear head, Georgie accepted a glass of ratafia from one of the Latimers’ footmen, all the while wishing it was champagne or even claret she was drinking. Maybe then the sudden pounding of her heart and the unfamiliar feeling of breathless anticipation in her throat would ease. Perhaps her cheeks wouldn’t be aflame and her skin wouldn’t tingle with awareness. For across the room, standing in the doorway to the drawing room, was Lord Markham. And despite the fact that Helena and Phillip were in the process of greeting him, he was looking directly at her.
The intensity of his gaze followed by the sudden flash of a roguish smile triggered a shiver—a strange combination of arousal and fear—that coursed through her entire body. Tightened her belly. He reminded her of a hungry lion sizing up his next meal.
God in heaven, she should run now. She had foolishly thought she was fully prepared for this encounter. But she wasn’t. Not at all. In the space of a week she had forgotten how devastatingly handsome the man was. How the very air around him seemed to vibrate with a strange energy, giving an overwhelming impression of leashed power barely contained beneath an urbane façade and superbly cut evening wear.
Stop imagining things, Georgiana . Perhaps the ratafia had been laced with something stronger than brandy—an opiate of some kind. With a trembling hand she deposited the barely tasted drink onto the tray proffered by another nearby footman. She clearly wasn’t in her right mind. But she needed to be if she was to have any hope of salvaging her tarnished card-playing
Oh. Georgie frowned. “Jonathon told me he was in diplomatic service in Russia or perhaps it was Sweden. At any rate, I assumed he would be returning to his post before winter set in.”
Helena smiled at Georgie over the rim of her cup. “No. He’s here to stay. His days gallivanting about the Continent—and gallivanting about in general—are well and truly over I’d say.”
Georgie leaned forward and absent-mindedly selected a piece of shortbread then placed it on her plate. Damn and double damn . Markham would probably be dogging her heels until she left London. Her cold was definitely about to become much worse. Pulling her lawn handkerchief from her pocket, Georgie raised it to her nose and sniffed delicately.
“Oh, my dear. Are you all right?” asked Helena, her brow furrowing with concern. “I thought you sounded a little under the weather. I hope you haven’t caught the same cold as Phillipa.”
Georgie sighed for effect. “I’m sure it’s nothing but I should probably rest for at least the next few days.” Or weeks . Perhaps months.
“Of course. And I should go.” Helena put down her cup and reached inside her reticule. “You must get better so you can attend the dinner party I have planned for next week. A small, intimate affair.” She handed Georgie a heavily embossed ivory envelope bearing the Clan Maxwell family crest and Helena’s initials—her personal stationary. A mischievous smile quivered on her lips. “Markham shall be there. As well as a card table or two.”
Georgie took the proffered invitation as if it were an offering of hot coals. “It’s a fait accompli isn’t it? You really are quite determined to pair us off.”
Helena laughed. “Guilty as charged. But I only have your best interests at heart.”
Georgie would like to debate that, but for now, she chose not too. A sudden wave of weariness washed over her and another headache was beginning to pulse in her temple.
“You can beat him you know.”
Georgie sharpened her gaze on her friend’s face. Trust Helena to choose exactly the right type of lure to tempt her. “How?” Headache or not, she was burning to know.
Helena’s mouth curved into an enigmatic smile. “I have a plan.”
Chapter 4
L atimer House , A week later...
I nwardly ruing the need to keep a clear head, Georgie accepted a glass of ratafia from one of the Latimers’ footmen, all the while wishing it was champagne or even claret she was drinking. Maybe then the sudden pounding of her heart and the unfamiliar feeling of breathless anticipation in her throat would ease. Perhaps her cheeks wouldn’t be aflame and her skin wouldn’t tingle with awareness. For across the room, standing in the doorway to the drawing room, was Lord Markham. And despite the fact that Helena and Phillip were in the process of greeting him, he was looking directly at her.
The intensity of his gaze followed by the sudden flash of a roguish smile triggered a shiver—a strange combination of arousal and fear—that coursed through her entire body. Tightened her belly. He reminded her of a hungry lion sizing up his next meal.
God in heaven, she should run now. She had foolishly thought she was fully prepared for this encounter. But she wasn’t. Not at all. In the space of a week she had forgotten how devastatingly handsome the man was. How the very air around him seemed to vibrate with a strange energy, giving an overwhelming impression of leashed power barely contained beneath an urbane façade and superbly cut evening wear.
Stop imagining things, Georgiana . Perhaps the ratafia had been laced with something stronger than brandy—an opiate of some kind. With a trembling hand she deposited the barely tasted drink onto the tray proffered by another nearby footman. She clearly wasn’t in her right mind. But she needed to be if she was to have any hope of salvaging her tarnished card-playing
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