~ Love Wins ~

by

Dalia Trevino

Carlton House London, April 1818

“I know who you are.”

“Yes, Lord Evans, as does everyone in attendance tonight,” Georgiana said her mouth widening in a smile.

“No, I think you deliberately misunderstand. Your true identity is no secret to me.”

Not by word or movement did she reveal how disturbing his disclosure was. She lifted an eyebrow in question, hoping her simulated confusion would mislead him.

“I know who your father is.”

Her first instinct to shrink away disappeared with the need to keep him silent as she took a step forward. Dropping all pretence of not understanding what he was referring to, she willed him to keep his tone low.

“And I will not hesitate to let it be known who you really are.”

“Why would you do that? It makes not a bit of difference to anyone,” she said quietly with a last bit of bravado to convince him of what she didn’t really believe.

“Oh, but it does,” he said laughing shortly. “I’m a reasonable man, but if you want me to keep this to myself it will cost you.”

She opened her mouth to ask him his price, but the question stuck in her throat. However, he saved her from having to voice the odious request.

“Two thousand pounds will give you the security of knowing you’ve bought my silence.”

Unintentionally she took another step forward simultaneously taking an involuntary deep breath in astonishment at the amount he demanded. She daren’t say what she really wanted. To be able to tell him she’d not pay a single farthing would have made her feel better. She wasn’t allowed that luxury though.

Music, faint and tranquil floated over her ignored, as did the loud tittering and gossip exchanged from both women and men in the long conservatory.

All of a sudden, her favorite cream sprigged muslin evening dress felt two sizes too small and she itched to pull off the long suffocating white gloves that reached the short puffed sleeves on her forearm.

She searched for something, anything, to get her out of the situation and spoke to the first person to come close to them.

“My lord,” she said reaching out to halt the man who’d nearly passed them. “I am sorry you had to search for me. Of course I remember this dance was promised to you.”

Thankfully, her savior didn’t dispute her words. Lord Evans inclined his head at her before turning around and striding off.

Letting out a tiny breath of air that he was gone and so was her problem, at least for the moment, she opened her mouth to give a thank you and apology to the man who’d come to her aid on her lips.

But she never voiced them for he was staring at her as though she were the vilest creature he’d ever known.

She didn’t recognize him and that was strange for she thought she’d met everyone who attended balls at Carlton House.

“Perhaps,” the man said with a steel edged tone. “Your proximity is the problem.”

She could but stare at him trying to understand what he was inferring.

“Such unwanted attention, if that is what it was, would not be a problem were you to keep your distance.”

Indignant outrage replaced her gratitude. His distaste and dislike were clear and that those feelings were directed at her took her aback for a moment.

“In any case, I am pleased to have been of assistance.” He nodded briefly before turning and leaving her standing alone in the crowded room.

Her mouth open slightly, she snapped it closed. What an insufferable arrogant clod head! Clamping her teeth, she acknowledged she’d been standing closer than acceptable to Lord Evans, but that wasn’t her fault. Well, not really and beyond that, it wasn’t very gentlemanly of him to point it out.

She narrowed her gaze on his retreating back tamping down the desire to pick up the ornately designed snuff box left on the sideboard table and throw it at him.

It probably wouldn’t hurt him, though, for he didn’t look like the slim prancing dandies she was used to seeing. Taller than her, she’d had to tilt her head back to look at him.

She had a discerning eye that she was proud of and she’d wager, too, that his simple, but elegant black eveningwear didn’t cover a body made ineffective with the idle pastimes so popular with the fashionable set. She didn’t think horse hair padding was responsible for the breadth of his shoulders. Nothing could disguise the width of his chest.

But she had another matter to see to now and she determinedly put out of her mind the appealing muscular body and judgmental cobalt blue eyes that belonged to a man who didn’t care for her.

Turning to find her mother she looked past the glittering, jewel covered women with their dazzling gowns all of the latest fashions. Overlooking the men, most of who were stuffed into tight knee breeches and close fitting waistcoats, she frowned when she was unable to locate her mother.

She definitely didn’t want Lord Evans to approach her again, so she tried not to be so obvious when she hurried to her friend Bridget’s side.

Bridget Mellinge had been her closest friend for as long back as she could remember. Growing up, their homes in London were right beside each other. But as well as she knew her friend she’d never told her what Lord Evans was now threatening to tell all of England.

“Georgiana, what is the matter? You look pale.”

“Nothing, I am fine,” she said, lying cleanly, but her friend knew her too well and looked to be about to question her more. To take Bridget’s attention off her and finding out what was bothering her, she let her gaze rest pointedly on the man who’d been so discourteous to her before.

“Do you know who that man sitting beside Lord Beverston is?”

Bridget turned slowly and Georgiana grinned. Her friend was the epitome of discretion. Neither Lord Beverston nor any of his companions at the card table would know they were being watched, at least not by Bridget.

“Ah, I understand now what has you unsettled. Mother told me only this morning he was back in London. Up until last March he was away fighting for more than four years.”

“Yes, Bridget, but who is he?”

Rich laughter was her response, but Georgiana didn’t mind the teasing.

“Simon Alderburgh, the Duke of Westby.”

“Hmm.” Georgiana pondered that for a moment. Perhaps his distance from polite society was to blame for his unregulated speech. If that was the case, she supposed she had to excuse him.

“Have you set your cap for him then?”

Georgiana jerked and glared at her friend. “Indeed no I have not. He, well he is not at all what I am looking for. Besides, as you well know, I have no say in my marriage. It will be decided for me by mother.”

“Yes, I know,” Bridget said her green eyes commiseratingly downcast before she looked up and flashed her signature brilliant grin. “But it would be superb if she chose him for you wouldn’t it.”