Ben shrugged. “Even Cordelia deserves happiness. Besides, Bradt will fade into the background once she sees you in that gown. I really do hope he’s carrying her smelling salts.”
“My gown isn’t that scandalous.” It was. It really was.
Annoying her mother was something she excelled at. Just yesterday, Mother had sent a list of approved, eligible gentlemen for Georgina to peruse.
“Don’t breathe too deeply. I beg you.”
“I’m laced far too tight for that.”
“Are you sure you haven’t taken your mother’s direction and are looking for a husband among Manhattan’s upper tens? Because in that gown, you’ll attract dozens of proposals, both proper and improper. I suppose it’s fortunate I have a pistol tucked in my pocket, should I need to defend your honor.”
“A pistol? Really, Ben, I’ve little honor to protect, as you well know. And the most danger I’ll face tonight is a rogue champagne cork hitting me in the eye.” She looked down at her decolletage. “Or elsewhere.”
“Still, it isn’t wise to go about the city unarmed.” A glint of ice shone in his eyes. There was a coldness in Ben, dark and frigid, like the waters of a pond in January. Georgina only ever saw flashes, but among those who did business with Rutherford Shipping, it was well-known. Ben wasn’t a man anyone wished to cross. His connections stretched across Manhattan, encompassing all of New York City. Contacts not formed by his association with her father.
“It never hurts to be prepared. The city is dangerous. You know that.”
“Even an opera house?” Her smile felt strained.Or on the ferry.
Georgina debated mightily over relating the incident that had occurred earlier on the ferry to Ben but decided to remain silent. She was sure it had all been an accident. And Ben had a tendency to be overprotective. He’d be sure to insist she never visit Lilian without his escort.
Still, the incident on her return trip from Brooklyn had been terrifying. She’d nearly been pushed into the East River, a fall that would surely have led to her demise. Georgina wouldn’t have stood a chance in the frigid water, with a heavy cloak acting like a weight to pull her beneath the waves. An accident, she was sure.
“Especially at an opera house. The entire building will be filled with well-dressed wolves hiding among the sheep.”
Georgina smiled back at Ben, her mind still on the ferry. At first, she’d been confused, even startled, to find herself suddenly dangling over the railing, staring at the black water of the East River. The stranger’s hand at her back had knocked her forward. Georgina’s toes had scraped against the deck as she tried to gain her footing before the man had suddenly grabbed her cloak and jerked her back, which was why she was sure it had been an accident. In her brief experience with assailants, most tried to kill you. The next thing Georgina knew, she had been sprawled on the deck near the rail with a young couple hovering over her, asking if she was well.
“What is it, George?”
She had the oddest sensation Ben knew about what had happened on the ferry and was only waiting for her to confess.
“Just envisioning my mother and Piers together. She would have been much better off married to him, I think. Happier, to be sure.”
“And much poorer.”
What struck Georgina as odd was that the man who’d pushed her wore torn, dirty clothing but smelled clean. Like fresh laundered linen. She hadn’t really gotten a good look at his face; her only impression was that he’d worn a plaid coat with bits of hay and dirt clinging to the sleeves and a broad-brimmed hat.
It was an accident.
Harold had his money, or rather Leo’s money. She’d instructed Lind to give it to him and to casually mention she said she was leaving for France. Or Italy. There was no reason for Harold to look for her in America or look for her at all.
Ben knew about Harold and the attempt on her life at Beechwood Court. He’d told her in a calm tone that a more permanent solution might be required for Lord Masterson should he have the poor sense to follow Georgina to New York.
Georgina assured Ben that Harold wasn’t that stupid.
“Come, we’ll be late.” He set down his glass. “Cordelia will have my head if we make a grand, late entrance and draw attention from her. Which you’re bound to do in that gown.”
Georgina smoothed down the folds of velvet as Ben placed a wrap over her shoulders. The night was cool, but not cold. The inside of the opera house would be such a crush, she’d have no need for anything heavier.
“I know you consider Harold to be smart enough not to follow you to New York, but what about Leo Murphy?” His hands landed on her shoulders.
Georgina grew still. “Leo Murphy?”
“Yes. Daniel’s father.”
Her first thought was to ask her cousin how he knew the identity of Daniel’s father, because she’d not mentioned Leo by name, not once. But Ben had taken a trip to London while they’d all been in England together and been gone a fortnight before returning to her and Lilian.
“I know who he is,” she said quietly. “I asked you specifically to leave it alone, as I recall. I didn’t tell you about him for a reason. You have a habit of poking about in other people’s business. Especially mine.”
