Page 46 of A Scarred Wallflower for the Duke
Before she could finish, the door cracked open and Lydia burst into the room. She stood planted in the doorway with her hands on her hips, wearing a look of wild indignance. “What isthis?” she demanded. She opened her fist to reveal a silky lilac mask.
It had been weeks since Vincent had seen it. Lydia had clearly been rifling through his belongings in search of treasure. And the fire in her eyes suggested she had found something she had not been expecting.
Vincent shrugged. “It belonged to someone I met at the masquerade ball. It’s of no consequence.” He had not thought of the mysterious masked lady in what felt like an age. Strange, he thought distantly, that she might have been so easily forgotten, after the way she had hijacked his thoughts. But his mind had been far too cluttered with Georgina Wyatt of late for there to be room for anyone else.
But when his eyes drifted toward Georgina, he could see the violent red blush on her cheeks. The look of shame. The look of…of having been caught.
Lydia shook the mask in front of both their faces. And her words came as no surprise: “This mask, Your Grace, belongs to my sister.”
“I see,” said Vincent. Lydia’s eyes widened. Clearly, she had been hoping for a more stupefied response. But there was a part of him, Vincent realized now, that had known this all along. Had known it the moment he had first met Georgina that morning in Thomson House. Her fiery words, the lush curves of her body—her perfectly crafted lips. And then there was the other fact that ought to have told him the truth—that the only thing that had pulled the masked lady from his thoughts, was meeting Georgina Wyatt.
He found himself smiling at the memory of the masked lady writhing beneath him. Thought of her begging for more, his name on her lips.
Oh, Georgina. You have been caught.
Before Vincent could say more, Georgina reached up and snatched the mask. “That’s enough, Lydia.” She ushered her sister hurriedly toward the door. “Let’s go and find Lord Renshaw.”
Vincent grabbed Georgina’s hand, tugging her back before she could escape. “Miss Lydia,” he said, “leave us a moment, please. I need to speak with your sister alone.”
Lydia’s lips parted, and she looked at Georgina, as though for instruction. After a moment of hesitation, Georgina gave an almost imperceptible nod. Lydia hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Vincent slid his hand up Georgina’s arm, pausing at her elbow. “Why did you lie to me?” he demanded. His voice was firm, but not angry. “I knew from the moment I saw you that you were the one behind the mask.” His nose brushed against hers. “Why deny it?”
Georgina let out her breath. “Why deny it?” she repeated. “Because you are to marry my sister! How could I have told you the truth?”
“No,” Vincent growled. “I am not going to marry your sister.” The words fell out without him having any thought of it, but the moment he spoke, he knew it was the truth. He could not marry Lydia Wyatt. Not when he felt this way about her sister.
He kissed the bare skin on Georgina’s neck, his lips working their way up the side of her throat. His mouth captured hers, and he kissed her deeply, drawing a faint moan from Georgina. Vincent dug a hand into her hair, holding her close, but she pulled away suddenly.
“Stop it,” she said. “Please. I cannot bear it.”
He frowned. “You cannot bear it? That certainly did not seem to be the case when you visited me last week. What has changed?”
Her cheeks reddened and she shook her head. “What happened between us was a mistake.”
“No.” He grabbed her hand impulsively and squeezed. “How can you say that? I know how I make you feel, Georgina. You cannot hide that.” He dropped his voice to a hiss. “The way your body responds to mine… The way you moan my name… I know none of that was an act.”
The fire in Georgina’s cheeks intensified. “It does not matter how I feel,” she said finally. “You and me… it’s an impossibility. We both know it. It is time we stopped pretending otherwise.”
Her words struck him like a physical blow. As did the suddenly detached tone of her voice. For a moment, he was rendered speechless. Of all the things to come out of Georgina’s mouth, he had not expected this.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “for my part in all this. Once again, I am reminded that you were not acting alone in such matters. I know I am not without blame for all that happened between us. But this needs to end now.” She swallowed visibly. Took a step away. “Goodbye, Your Grace.” And she slipped out the door without another word.
For a long time, Vincent stood motionless. He could hardly make sense of all that had just happened. And yet, he realized with a dull ache, he still had not managed to get a straight answer from Georgina about her engagement to Renshaw. Not that it mattered. She had made it clear there was to be nothing more between them.
He sank into the armchair and closed his eyes. Somewhere deep in the house, he could hear distant voices. Footsteps. He ought to go out there, of course. Bid his guests farewell at the very least. But he could not find even a scrap of the willpower to do so.
He had never imagined his search for a wife would turn out like this. He had never imagined that he might develop such feelings for someone—had never considered himself capable of such a thing. And he had certainly never imagined that a lady might be the one to end things between them.
He could not make sense of Georgina’s behavior. Yes, this thing between them had always been slightly illicit, but he had been able to tell how much she enjoyed his company. What might have made her pull away? Surely it could not be guilt over the fact that he was intended for her sister. He had just made it abundantly clear that Lydia would never be his wife.
Vincent did not understand it. All he knew was that he had never felt so wretched in his life.
Full of frustrated energy, he began to pace, back and forth in front of the unlit grate. His entire body felt tense and his thoughts were knocking together wildly. This affection he had for Georgina Wyatt, it was driving him toward insanity.
No, not just affection.
It was far more than that, he realized then. With a sudden bolt of clarity, it struck him—he was irrevocably in love with Georgina Wyatt. He could not bear to live a life without her in it. He slammed a fist into the parlor wall, letting out a grunt of frustration. To hell with what everyone else thought. To hell with what was expected of them. He could not let Georgina walk away.
