A Daring Liaison(78)

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Georgiana watched out her window until she saw Charles leave. She had no wish to encounter him again until she could control her temper. The man could be so maddeningly infuriating!

Was he going to acquire an annulment? Was that why he hadn’t consummated their marriage last night? That thought sent her mind spinning. She understood why it would be for the best, but her heart tore in two at the thought of losing him again.

She’d tried to read a few of Aunt Caroline’s—she could not yet think of her as her mother—diaries, but her attention kept wondering at the sameness of Caroline’s days and the loneliness of her nights. When she mentioned Georgiana, it was with the objectivity of an observer, never the fondness of a mother. Georgiana had been daily evidence of Caroline’s shame, and yet she had done her duty and accepted responsibility for her.

She put three journals aside for Lord Carlington, hoping he would not be bored to distraction. She’d chosen one volume where Caroline had mentioned that ‘Owen’ would laugh at something that had happened in the village. She thought he might like to know that Caroline had still thought of him.

In an attempt to escape her ennui, Georgiana donned a bonnet and went down to the back garden to cut some flowers for the foyer and dinner table. She found a pair of pruning shears and a basket in the garden shed adjoining the stable and took the path most likely to lead her to flowers. The grounds were not extensive and she arrived by simply turning a corner around a hedge.

Though it was too early in the year for blooming roses, there were lavish lilac bushes and soft pink and lavender anemone. The sun warmed her skin and she sighed happily. At that moment she could almost believe everything would come aright. She sank to her knees and began taking cuttings of the anemone, hoping there would be enough for a small bouquet for the foyer table.

Her anger at Charles faded as she worked the rich soil and took careful cuttings so she would not deplete the garden. She thought of various ways to mend the rift between them when he came home.

The lilac bushes rustled and she smiled. Perhaps it was a hummingbird looking for nectar, or a robin seeking worms in the soft dirt.

“Aye, yer right pretty, ye are.”

Georgiana squeaked and toppled backward onto her bottom. Before she could scramble to her feet, a man emerged from the bushes. He was rough looking and dirty. The gardener? How long had he been lurking there?

“Who are you?” She gripped the shears in her fist like a weapon.

“Why, I’m yer pa.”

She recognized that voice. She’d heard it in Vauxhall Gardens. She’d almost forgotten him and his “plans” for her. “No, you are not.”

“Aye, yer my gal, right enough. I’ve been watchin’ you yer whole life, Georgie gal. Ever since you was brought back to Kent. Finest thing I ever done. Think it was me, but coulda been Artie. An’ everything we done after was fer you.”

Watching her? And who was Artie? She could not take this in. Could not comprehend what he was saying. But there was something familiar about him, something vaguely disquieting. Yes! He’d been across the street the night of Lord Carlington’s ball, waiting for her and Charles to come out. And she thought she might have seen him before that. In her village in Kent. Hadn’t he once given her a rock candy when she’d gone to market with the cook? All she could remember was that he smelled bad and his teeth were yellowed and broken when he smiled. She had thrown the candy into the bushes on her way back to the manor.

Another brief memory flashed in her mind, and then another, until she wondered how he could have been so present in her life and she not recognize him. The disquieting feelings of being watched, being followed, had been true! He’d been a specter weaving in and out of her entire life. Dear God! Could this horrid man she’d dismissed as a demented villager actually be her father? But Aunt Caroline would never—

“I do not believe you.”

He grabbed her upper arm and squeezed. “Don’t you be gettin’ saucy with me, missy! A gal’s bound to do what her pa says. I’da come sooner but that blasted giant Hunter hired is always in the way.”

She shuddered with revulsion. “Let me go!”

“Not yet, Georgie gal. I got plans fer you. But I gotta get rid of Hunter first. Hunter, fer Christ’s sake! I oughta whip you fer marryin’ him like you done. I warrant he’s ridin’ you hard but you ain’t a tart. You was raised better. That fancy ma of yers saw to that.”