Page 3 of His Stolen Duchess
Dottie’s lower lip trembled just as much as her hands did. Still, she managed to wipe her eyes again.
“I’ll try,” she mumbled.
“Good,” Georgina said.
There was a lot more she wanted to say, but it would not help the poor young woman, so she left the kitchens and headed back to her room. She had to get ready to ride.
Georgina rode with the dawn and the wind. The sun rose on the horizon, and the wind whipped her hair, pulling it back, floating in the air like chocolate waves. The morning was chilly, but she was warmed by the horse she rode.
And the anger that was bubbling inside.
That warmed her more than the horse could, fueled the fire within, and confirmed to her that the Earl was not the man she should spend the rest of her life with.
How can I marry a man like him? After what he did to Dottie, how could I ever trust him? How long until he does the same again to some other poor girl?
As she rode, she knew she shouldn’t jump to conclusions without hearing his side of the story, but Dottie’s emotion had been so raw and real that it was hard for Georgina not to accept it as truth.
She urged her mount to gallop faster until she saw the Earl of Abbington’s townhouse rise in the distance.
Hesitation replaced her ire, but she pushed it aside and focused on her mission.
As she approached the townhouse, her eyes spotted the Earl through the window of his breakfast room.
So, he’s awake.
He was enjoying his meal, reading the newspaper as he forced smoked fish into his mouth.
Her body trembled at the thought of him with his hands all over Dottie, forcing her to do his bidding. She shook her head as she approached the door. That was not what had happened. It was only after he got what he wanted that he’d treated her rottenly.
She rode to the back of the townhouse and dismounted, tethering the horse to the railing. She kept the hood of her cloak up to ensure that even if she were spotted at such an odd hour, no one would see her face.
She knocked at the servant’s entrance, and a footman soon answered, blinking at her in surprise.
“Lady Georgina,” he greeted. “Pardon me, I didn’t?—”
“I must speak with Lord Abbington. Alone.”
“Of course. Please come in,” the footman said. “The drawing room is just?—”
“I’ll find it myself, thank you.”
She left the footman and strode down the hallway to the drawing room. When she got there, she paced back and forth, trying to formulate what she might say to him, but her mind was swirling with too many emotions to form a coherent thought.
“My dear fiancée,” the Earl said teasingly when he laid eyes upon her. “I am so surprised to see you. But I admit, it is a pleasant surprise. Tell me, what is the reason for your visit? Do you wish to start the wedding night festivities early?”
The Earl was a handsome man, tall with blonde hair and a strong build. It was his character that had become ugly to Georgina, along with the smear of smoked fish at the corner of his mouth.
“Dottie. The maid at my uncle’s residence,” Georgina began.
The Earl held out his hands. “I’m unsure how I should respond. Should I name one of the servants in my household? I’m afraid I don’t know any of them by name.”
“You had your way with her, and now that she carries your child, you wish for her to disappear.”
“Heavens! I abhor this accusation, Lady Georgina. Is that why you came here on our wedding morning? To accuse me of…fornicationwith a servant? Do you really think so low of me?”
“All she wanted was some money to survive.”
“Pah! So does everyone else. What makes her so special?”
