First Comes Scandal (Rokesbys #4)(42)

“You may,” Georgie said quietly.

Wheelock gave a slow, considering nod. “It would be difficult for you to find the right moment if I accompany you to Aubrey Hall.”

“That was my thought.”

“But you don’t want Mr. Thamesly to be aware of the lapse of propriety.”

“That was also my thought.”

Wheelock’s lips pursed. “I try to live by a certain set of rules and standards, and this, Miss Bridgerton, goes against almost all of them.”

“Only almost?” she said hopefully.

“Indeed,” he said, quite clearly against his better judgment. He sighed, but it was overdramatized and obviously for her benefit. “I shall devise some sort of nonsense once Mr. Thamesly has departed with the cart. You shall have your moment alone with Mr. Rokesby.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wheelock.”

He stared down his nose at her. “Do not make me regret my decision, Miss Bridgerton.”

“I would never,” Georgie vowed.

True to his word, once Thamesly rolled away with a disgruntled Freddie Oakes sitting next to him in the seat of the cart, Wheelock “noticed” that his mount was favoring his right foreleg.

Nicholas looked over from where he was checking his own mount’s saddle. “Are you certain? She seemed unhampered on the way over.”

“I thought I—” Wheelock pointed. “There. Did you see that?”

Georgie didn’t see a thing, and she was quite certain Nicholas didn’t either, but Wheelock gave them no opportunity to contribute further to the conversation. “I will have to walk her back,” he said. “We risk injury, otherwise. I don’t think she can take my weight.”

“No, of course not,” Nicholas murmured. But he looked slightly conflicted since the original plan was for all three of them to ride to Aubrey Hall to drop off Georgie. “I suppose we can all walk to Aubrey Hall, but …”

“We don’t have time,” Wheelock said with a shake of his head. “It’s already too close to sunrise. The servants will be rising soon.”

“I trust you,” Georgie said to Nicholas. It seemed like the right time to chime in. “And honestly, it’s not like we’ve never been alone together.”

His blue eyes met hers. “Are you sure?”

“Are you going to attack and ravish me?”

“Of course not!”

“Then I’m sure.”

“Jesus, Georgie,” Nicholas said under his breath.

“Don’t you scold me for language.” She let out a little huff. “After everything that’s happened tonight, surely I’m entitled.”

“Of this night,” Wheelock pronounced, “we shall never speak.”

“Thank you, Wheelock,” Nicholas said. “Truly.”

“It was my honor, sir. Now if you will excuse me, I must start back. It’s best if I’m at Crake before the household rouses.”

“Move as swiftly as is safe,” Nicholas directed.

“Oh, but Wheelock? Could you give me a leg up before you go?” Georgie asked.

Nicholas gave her a look. “I can help you.”

“We’ve only the one horse,” she explained. “I assume you’ll be in front. Won’t it be easier if you mount first?”

He muttered something she could not quite make out, but he must have agreed with her because he swung himself up onto his horse.

“It must be nice to be so tall,” Georgie grumbled. As if men didn’t already have the advantage in, well, everything, they didn’t need blocks just to get into a saddle.

Or the hands of a helpful butler. Poor Wheelock seemed somewhat chagrined to be performing such a menial task, but as in all things, he had no difficulty hoisting her up into the saddle.

“Can he do everything?” Georgie asked with no sarcasm whatsoever.

Nicholas chuckled. “As far as I can tell.”

It was at that moment that Georgie realized just how risqué a position she’d put herself into. She could not recall the last time she’d ridden astride, and it was positively scandalous how far she had to hike up her nightshift to be able to spread her legs widely enough.

“Let me just adjust my dressing gown,” she mumbled. It was split in the front, and so she was able to tuck it around her legs. Somewhat.

“Are you comfortable?” Nicholas asked.

“Yes,” she lied.

Because she wasn’t comfortable at all. As she wrapped her arms around his waist, the distance between them disappeared entirely, and when he spoke, she felt his voice. It pulsed through his body, humming against her skin before it sank into her bones. Her breasts were pressed against his back, and as she bobbed up and down in the saddle along with the movement of the horse, they began to feel sensitive in a way that was entirely new to her. Her nipples grew hard, like they did in the cold, but the similarity ended there. Instead of discomfort, she felt a tingling sensation, one that shot through her like sparks, stealing her breath.

Stealing her sanity.

Was this arousal? She’d seen the looks her brother and Violet shared when they thought no one was looking. Whatever it was that passed between them, it was different from love. It was flirty, and it was hot, and Georgie had never quite understood it.