Page 45 of A Scarred Wallflower for the Duke
“I’ve no idea. It’s all riddles.”
“Yes. I suspect that’s the point. Come on.”
Lydia hesitated. She needed to keep searching the house for something that might incriminate the Duke. Ought she tell Georgie of her plan? She suspected her sister would not approve—after all, snooping through the Duke’s belongings in an attempt to disgrace him was not her finest moment. And then there was the fact that she had absolutely no idea what she was looking for. Georgina would definitely not approve of that kind of foolishness.
She waved her sister away. “You go and search the garden with Peter. Keep up the act that the two of you are to be married. I shall keep looking up here for the treasure. After all, the sooner we find it, the sooner we can all leave.”
Georgina frowned. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, yes, quite certain.” Lydia nudged her sister out into the hallway. Georgina looked back at her with slightly suspicious eyes as she made her way toward the staircase. Lydia flashed her what she hoped was a confident smile, then she hurried down the passage and turned the door handle of the next room.
The gold mine. His Grace’s bedchamber.
Lydia glanced over her shoulder to make sure she was not being followed. Satisfied the corridor was empty, she slipped inside and closed the door silently behind her. Her heart was thundering. This felt damnably wrong. Despite his claims that the treasure could be hidden anywhere in the house, Lydia knew well he had not intended for any of them to go rifling through his most private of rooms.
But surely, of all the rooms in the manor, if there were incriminating evidence to be found of a depraved and rakish man, it would be hidden in here. The Duke did not wish to wed her either, she reminded herself. If she were able to get them both out of this ghastly marriage, he would thank her, surely. Perhaps he would not even be mad that she had gone trawling through his most private belongings.
Perhaps.Then Lydia realized that she really did not care. She took slow, careful steps toward the curtained bed, as though it were a wild animal she was afraid of provoking. The sight of the thing knotted her stomach. If she did not succeed in her plan, this would soon be her marriage bed, and she would be forced to give herself to this cocky, arrogant man. This near stranger.
And what of Peter? He would end his faux engagement to Georgina, of course. And Lydia could only imagine the hatred her grandmother would have for him then. Such a thing would make him look like the most fickle and untrustworthy of gentlemen. And of all things, that wasnotwhat he was.
Freshly determined, Lydia tugged open the top drawer of the cabinet beside the bed. It was a treasure trove of disappointment, filled with nothing more than an old tobacco box, a pocket watch, and an old dried-up ink pot. She sighed. Tried the second drawer.
This one looked slightly more promising, containing a silky lilac mask that had clearly belonged to a lady. Beneath them was a pile of papers. Personal letters, perhaps? To a lover?
Lydia lifted the items from the drawer and began to thumb through the papers. They seemed to be correspondence between the Duke and a friend from his school days. Nothing incriminating as yet.
And then she paused. Looked back at the mask strewn across the bed. There was something oddly familiar about it. She picked it up, examining it with a frown. Had one of her friends been wearing it at the masquerade, perhaps? Or had she considered wearing a gown of this color?
The realization swung at her suddenly, and she clasped a hand to her mouth, covering a gasp. None of her friends had been wearing this mask at the ball last month. And she had not considered wearing a gown of this color.
But her sister had a great deal of explaining to do.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Georgina hurried for the front door of Levinton Manor. She had seen Lord Renshaw disappear into the garden a few moments ago, and she felt a desperate need to catch up with him. Being alone in the manor made her feel like a rabbit trying to escape its hunter. She was not sure what was worse: running into Vincent, or running into his mother.
All she knew was that she could not bear to be here. For a fleeting moment at the Greenfords’ ball, she had let herself imagine what it would be like to be the lady of this manor. To be Vincent’s Duchess. To wake up beside him every morning. To fall asleep in his arms each night. And for that fleeting moment, it had felt so real, so right. So joyful.
But of course, that fleeting moment had not been rooted in reality. Someone that looked like her would never be the lady of anything more than her own lonely bedchamber. The Dowager Duchess of Levinton had done a fine job of reminding her of that.A curiosity of nature…
She had almost made it to the front door when she heard his voice. Low and secretive, her name on his lips. Part of her longed to run out into the garden. But when he stepped out of the parlor and wrapped his broad hand around her arm, Georgina felt herself freeze in place.
* * *
Vincent closed the parlor door behind him. “If I did not know better, I would say you were avoiding me.” He kept his voice to little more than a murmur. Wondered if she could tell how hard his heart was thumping. In spite of the situation, there was something almost blissful about finally being alone with her. He fought the urge to pull her into his arms. To press his lips to hers. To lay her on the settle and lift her skirts and make her moan his name again.
Georgina lowered her eyes. Did not respond to him. He took a step toward her, half expecting her to move away from him. She stayed motionless, her eyes fixed on the floor and her shoulders hunched, as though trying to make herself disappear.
This was not the Georgina he knew. Where were the sharp comments, the witty accusations? Where were the fiery retorts, telling him what an arrogant and insufferable rake he was?
He tipped her chin upward with his finger, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Georgina,” he began carefully. “Is it true? Are you truly to marry Lord Renshaw?”
For several moments, she said nothing. Then she swallowed visibly. “I believe you have already discussed the matter with my brother,” she managed.
“I do not wish to hear it from your brother,” Vincent told her firmly. “I wish to hear it from you. Are you to marry him, Georgina? Do you love him?”
To his surprise, her blue eyes welled suddenly with tears, and she looked away. “I…”
