A Daring Liaison(67)

His eyes widened and his hand trembled as he took the packet, staring at the writing as if it were something precious. She realized he wanted to open it more than he wanted to breathe.

Charles stood and went to put his glass on the mantel, a pensive look on his face. “Would you mind if I showed Georgiana the gardens, Carlington?”

He looked up at Charles with an expression of profound gratitude. “Please do. I believe the roses are budding.”

Charles gave him a small bow and took her by the arm to lead her out the French door. “You did not mention you’d brought Carlington a present, Georgiana.”

“I did not know if the opportunity would arise for me to give him the letter.”

“I am glad you did. What was in it?”

She shrugged. “It was sealed, Charles. I haven’t the faintest notion what is in it, but there is something more than a letter. I could feel a small lump.”

“A love token, unless I miss my guess.”

“Do you think...they might have been lovers?” Georgiana glanced back toward the house.

“Appears to be a tragic love story. If she had not encouraged him, if there had not been something deep between them, he would not still be sighing over her all these years later.”

Tears stung her eyes. How impossibly sad. Lord Carlington had remained faithful to Caroline all these years. Had lived with hope that she might someday return to him. While she, who had loved Charles since the first time she’d seen him, had allowed herself to be passed from husband to husband because she’d lost all hope.

Charles stopped and turned to look into her eyes. “You are deeply affected by this, are you not?”

“My...aunt Caroline’s life was very lonely. I cannot help wondering what would have happened if she had allowed him to visit. To see her. I am tempted to believe that he would have loved her anyway.”

Charles was silent as they began walking again and she knew that he doubted her words.

“She really was horribly scarred, you know,” she reminded him. “Perhaps, if Lord Carlington were not a public figure, or hadn’t had obligations, Aunt Caroline’s appearance would not have mattered.”

“But he did, Georgiana. And that made all the difference.”

Her own guilty secret rose to taunt her. Perhaps, if she weren’t illegitimate, she would not have so many misgivings about marrying Charles. Would her circumstances hold him back? Cause him embarrassment? “Do you think it is so terribly important, Charles? Who we are? Should it make a difference?”

He was silent as they strolled past an arbor where fragrant roses would soon bloom. When he spoke, she knew he had considered his answer. “Perhaps it shouldn’t, but it does. Futures rest upon who you are and what you do. Caroline was right to have refused to see him. He could not deny his responsibilities. That could only have brought more pain.”

“Yet you have overlooked who I am. An orphan with no connections. A woman who has become scandalous by virtue of her circumstances. Marriage to me could damage your reputation or your prospects. We should call if off before it is too late.”

He turned her back toward the house. “It is growing late, Georgiana. I think Carlington has had enough time to read your aunt’s letter. We should go back.”

His lack of a reply to her offer was telling—an acknowledgment that she was inferior in society’s eyes but that he was determined to go through with the marriage at any cost. Would he still if he knew the worst of her past? She took his arm again as they turned. “Do you think it is because of her that he is still unmarried?”

“He had an obligation to provide an heir for his title, and he did not. Any wellborn woman would have fit his needs, yet he remained single. There must be a reason for that.”

“I did not realize that men could languish over lost love as women do.”

He gave her a wry smile. “Did you not?”

“I have seen no evidence of it. Most men have wives and mistresses. Which do they love, if either?”

“That would depend upon their reason for marrying, Georgiana.”

What would that say about Charles’s reason for marrying her? “Do you have a mistress, Charles?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Will you have one again?”

He coughed. “We are marrying tomorrow.”

“Yes, but—”

The French doors opened and Lord Carlington peered out. “There you are. Wondered what happened to you.”