“Leo—”
“I do not hold myself blameless. My own”—a deep ugly sound came from him—“behaviorleaves much to be desired. But you meant to keepthisfrom me for the entirety of my life.”
Georgina didn’t answer. Couldn’t. She stared at Leo’s chest. Counted the buttons on his very plain waistcoat. She’d hurt him, far worse than she could ever have imagined. How wrong she’d been about everything. Especially him. Looking out of the corner of her eye, Georgina saw Ben watching them. He didn’t look surprised to see her dancing with Leo.
Because Ben knew Leo was in New York.She supposed their earlier conversation had been meant as a warning. Yet another man who couldn’t bother to be direct.
“I thought it would be better if you didn’t know,” she finally said, wanting him to understand. “I thought I was doing you a kindness in not telling you.”
His chin snapped back to her. “Howdareyou decide such a thing for me.”
She couldn’t get a deep breath, though she tried. Her corset was too tight, squeezing her heart with such force, Georgina thought she might well faint. What could she possibly say?
Once again, I am the architect of my own disaster.
She tried to pull away, but he held her firm, clearly unconcerned that the other dancers were casting curious looks in their direction. The blue of his eyes fell down between her breasts, searing her with one look. Leo wasn’t prone to losing his temper. Or at least, he hadn’t been.
He leaned in again, his nose brushing against her temple, inhaling deeply. “I amsovery angry with you, Georgina.”
Georgina looked down at her slippers, as if concerned the silk of her skirts had caught against his legs and she’d tear her hem. The pads of his fingers pressed painfully into her waist as regret coursed through her.
He will never forgive me.
When the dance ended, Leo bowed politely for the benefit of onlookers, his handsome features bland. Unfeeling. As if she were some elderly wallflower he’d been forced to dance with.
“Good evening, Lady Masterson.”
He didn’t once glance back as he strolled back into the crowd, leaving her battered and bruised. He was welcomed into a group of gentlemen at the other side of the hall, most of whom already seemed well acquainted with him. Georgina recognized Mr. Schuller of Merchant’s Bank. She’d once been friends with his daughter.
Leo has been in New York far longer than I supposed.
There was little to set Leo apart from the other men in attendance tonight except for the precision with which he’d gutted her during their dance. Even his formal evening wear was perfect with no sign of the hideously garish waistcoats he so loved. Only his looks made him stand out. He was still so damned beautiful. Even if he hated her.
Georgina pulled her hands into her skirts so that no one would see her hands shaking. She knew she shouldn’t have come tonight. Poor Mr. Woodstock had been the least of her worries.
* * *
Leo watchedGeorgina glide across the room, shoulders straight as she made her way back to her mother’s side. She nodded to those around her. Smiled. Took another glass of champagne. Greeted two young ladies warmly. If Leo didn’t know her so well, hadn’t spent so many hours watching her, he would have assumed their conversation hadn’t rattled her. But she had to struggle to hold her chin up, jerking it sharply whenever her manner slipped. And she was drinking far too much champagne.
Georgina, as a rule, didn’t care overmuch for champagne.
He thought he’d feel vindicated after lashing out at her as he’d dreamt of doing since reading his father’s letter. But he didn’t. Hurting Georgina hadn’t helped his mood at all; in fact, it had done nothing but make Leo realize how badly he’d behaved toward her from the day they’d met.
She’s my person and always has been.
Easy to see now what he’d refused to acknowledge. A deathbed confession and a reexamination of your life often did that to a person. Left them seeing things in a different light.
Which brought Leo to his next point.
If Georgina thought for one bloody moment he was going to allow her to marry that oversized thug masquerading as a gentleman who was whispering in her ear, she was mistaken.
The gentleman in question cast a glance in Leo’s direction, pulling Georgina closer. She nodded her head, placing a fingertip against her temple. A headache, he could almost hear her say. The gentleman placed a consoling hand on the small of Georgina’s back, comforting her.
Leo gripped his glass so tightly, he nearly snapped the fragile stem.
Smiling and nodding automatically, he pretended to listen to Schuller and another gentleman, Klyburn, both of whom were discussing the price of cotton, which Leo found somewhat interesting. Hedidown a textile mill. And quite a bit of property in London along with a sheep farm. Then, of course, there was Beechwood Court.
His gut twisted.
