A Daring Liaison(47)
Street urchin? Heat flooded Georgiana’s cheeks. What must Charles think of her now?
Charles’s voice had gone low and deadly. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll watch what you say about Mrs. Huffington.”
There was an ugly laugh before Hathaway responded. “Even if it’s the truth? Do you really want to be her next victim?”
“That is a vile insinuation and I’d advise you to watch your tongue.”
“You think things are bad for her now. Just see what happens when I’m finished.”
The sound of a scuffle rose to the two women. Clara gasped and covered her mouth. A sharp crack and splintering told the fate of the entry table. The front door rebounded and Clara ran to the window.
“Oh, madam! He’s given Mr. Hathaway the boot! Oh!” Clara covered her mouth to muffle a giggle. “And his satchel after him!”
Georgiana joined her maid at the window to watch as Hathaway gained his feet and slapped the dust from his jacket. Thank heavens it was late and only a single street lamp lit the dim scene below.
Hathaway snatched up his bag and faced the door where Charles must have still been standing. “You’ll regret this, Hunter. Until the day you die. And that won’t be long if you keep company with her. I know things. Things that could turn this town upside down.”
“If you repeat one thing about Mrs. Huffington, derogatory or otherwise, you’ll answer to me. Do you understand, Hathaway?”
But Hathaway had turned his back and Georgiana couldn’t make out his reply. As the butler faded into the darkness, the front door slammed and she heard Charles’s footsteps take him back to the library. For his coat and hat?
“Oh, madam! That was quite thrilling. What I’d give to have a champion like your Mr. Hunter.”
Her Mr. Hunter. Georgiana sighed. How she wished that were true.
* * *
In a reckless mood, Charles finished his brandy in a single gulp and poured another. No wonder Georgiana hadn’t wanted to deal with that bastard! Who the hell did he think he was, calling Georgiana’s birth into question? Damn near refusing to leave? Making threats?
He examined his skinned knuckles and decided he wouldn’t need more than a good scrub. He actually regretted not doing more damage. How had Georgiana put up with Hathaway for so long?
The hell of it was that he could not even dismiss Hathaway’s threats as idle bluster. He had dealt with enough ne’er-do-wells to recognize them when he saw them. In Georgiana’s present circumstances, he had to allow for the possibility that the former butler was somehow involved with her misfortunes.
He sank into the club chair by the fire and stared into the flames, warming the brandy between his palms. The flickering, ever-changing patterns in the fire usually calmed him, but at the moment all he could think of was how everything had changed since he’d started this investigation. He’d wanted to prove the woman who’d scorned him was guilty of murder, and now he desperately wanted to prove her innocent. He’d wanted to know if she’d had his best friend killed, and now he suspected she was not capable of such duplicity. He’d wanted to confirm that he’d lost nothing all those years ago in Lady Caroline’s parlor, but he’d only confirmed that he’d never stopped loving her. He’d wanted to nurse his mistrust and anger to prevent another disappointment, but he’d begun to trust her and the old bitterness was fading.
God help him, he wanted their engagement to be real.
He finished his second glass of brandy and headed for the stairs. It was time to straighten a few things out with the infamous Mrs. Huffington. He stepped over the scattered fragments of the foyer table and took the steps two at a time. He knocked but opened the door before she’d had time to answer.
Clara dropped a nightgown trimmed in blue ribbon over Georgiana’s head, and both of them turned to stare at him in shock. Manners required an apology, but he did not feel like offering hypocrisies at the moment.
“Thank you, Clara. That will be all,” he said.
The maid turned to Georgiana and waited for a nod before complying. At least someone in this house recognized Georgiana was in charge.
“Sorry if I’ve caught you at a bad time,” he said.
She retrieved a sheer wrapper from her bed and pulled it on over her nightgown, which did nothing to cool his lust. “I was going to send for you.”
He raised an eyebrow at that. He did not think he would be so lucky.
“We must call off our engagement.”