First Comes Scandal (Rokesbys #4)(33)

She took her dinner in her room, plotted out what she might say to Nicholas when she next saw him, and eventually crawled into bed.

Where she’d thought she’d stay until morning.

She thought wrong.





Chapter 9





Georgie sat up suddenly in bed, muddled and groggy. She had no idea what time it was, or why she had woken up, but her heart was pounding, and her pulse was racing, and— Tap.

Instinctively, she shrank back against the head of her bed. She was still too disoriented to identify the sound.

Tap.

Was it one of her cats?

Taptaptap.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth. That last noise was different, like a bunch of little taps all at once. Or rather, almost all at once. And it definitely wasn’t a cat.

Taptaptaptap.

There it was again, coming from … her window?

That was impossible. Maybe a bird? But why would a bird tap repeatedly in one spot? It made no sense. It had to be a human, except it couldn’t be a human. She was too high up. There was a ledge, and she supposed it was wide enough for a person to stand on, but the only way to get there was to go up the massive oak her father always complained grew too close to the house. But even so, you’d have to crawl out on a branch.

A branch she didn’t think would support a person’s weight all the way out to the house.

Even her sister Billie, who had been known to take phenomenally stupid risks in the pursuit of treetops, had never attempted that one.

Plus, it had only stopped raining a few hours earlier. The tree would be wet and slippery.

“Oh, for the love of heaven,” Georgie said. She hopped down from her bed. It had to be an animal. An extremely intelligent animal or an extremely foolish human.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Or pebbles. Someone was throwing pebbles at her window.

For a second she thought—Nicholas. But Nicholas would never be so stupid. Plus, why would he sneak?

And again. Nicholas was not stupid. It was one of the things she liked best about him.

She approached the window slowly, although for the life of her, she didn’t know why. If someone was throwing pebbles, it meant he couldn’t get in on his own. Still, she grabbed a candlestick for good measure, pushed the curtains aside, and peered out. But it was too dark to see, so she tucked the candlestick under her arm and then used both her hands to wrench the window up.

“Who’s out there?” she whispered.

“It’s me.”

She froze. She knew that voice.

“I’ve come for you, Georgiana.”

Bloody hell. It was Freddie Oakes.

Judyth, who had jumped on silent paws up to the windowsill, immediately hissed.

It was a cloudy night, but there was enough light coming from the lanterns on the house that she could see him in the tree, perched on the long branch right where it met the trunk.

Georgie tried to shout her whisper. “What in the name of God are you doing here?”

“Did you get my letter?”

“Yes, and perhaps you noticed I didn’t write back.” Georgie grabbed the candlestick out from under her arm and jabbed it angrily in his direction. “You need to go away.”

“I won’t leave without you.”

“He’s mad,” she said to herself. “He is stark, raving—”

“Mad for you,” he finished. He smiled, and all she could think was—what a waste of straight white teeth. By any measure, Freddie Oakes was a handsome young gentleman. The problem was, he knew it.

“I love you, Georgiana Bridgerton,” he said, smiling that too-confident smile again. “I want you to be my wife.”

Georgie groaned. She didn’t believe that for a second. And she didn’t think that he believed it, either.

Freddie Oakes wasn’t in love with her. He just wanted her to think that he was so that she’d let him marry her. Did he really think she was that gullible? Had he had such previous success with the ladies that he thought she’d fall for such obvious bunk?

“Is that your cat?” he asked.

“One of them,” Georgie replied, pulling Judyth back. The silver gray cat was hissing loudly now, her little paws pinwheeling through the air. “She’s a very good judge of character.”

Freddie seemed not to get the insult. “Did you get my second letter?” he asked.

“What? No.” She plunked Judyth down on the floor. “And you shouldn’t be writing to me.”

“I memorized it,” he said. “In case I arrived before it did.”

Dear God.

“Freddie,” she said, “you need to go before someone sees you.”

“My dearest Georgiana,” he intoned.

“Stop! Now.” She twisted her head to look up at the sky. “I think it’s going to rain again. It’s not safe in that tree.”

“You do care about me.”

“No, I was simply stating that it’s not safe in that tree,” she retorted. “Although heaven knows why I bother. Only a fool would climb it in this weather, and I could certainly do with fewer fools in my life.”

“You wound me to the quick, Miss Bridgerton.”

She groaned.

“That wasn’t in the letter,” he explained.