A Daring Liaison(79)

She felt sick to her stomach. Surely she would wake from this nightmare any moment. This horrid man would be gone and his hideous claims would go with him.

“A gal’s bound to do what her pa says. Now that yer ma’s gone, I’m yer boss. D’you understand?”

“Y-yes.” She’d say anything to make him release her.

“That’s better.”

He eased his grip and she stepped back, drawing a deep breath of clean air. “What do you want?”

He smirked, certain he’d won their contest of wills. “Yer comin’ with me. Once I put Hunter outta the way, you’ll marry who I say. No more of them country squires an’ the like. Yer fit fer a duke.” He laughed and slapped his thighs with enjoyment. “T’ think. My whelps is gonna be swells. Aye, the Gibbonses is risin’ in the world.”

She took another step backward. Put Hunter out of the way? The man was quite mad. Caroline would never have allowed a man like that to touch her. But, somehow, he had become obsessed with Georgiana in the village and built a fantasy around being her father. And now that Caroline was dead, he thought he had the right to control her.

She still held the pruning shears in her hand. She tightened her grip and drew her arm back to lend force to her blow.

“Mrs. Hunter!”

Finn’s voice was blessedly near! “Here, Finn!”

The man snarled at her and glanced over his shoulder, backing into the lilac bushes the way he’d appeared. “Looks like I’m gonna have to teach you not to cross yer pa. You ain’t too big to whip. Use the cane on you, I will.”

And then he was gone. She sank to her knees, fighting the tears that were crowding forward and trying to still her trembling.

“Need help with the basket, Mrs. Hunter?” Finn asked as he came around the bend in the path.

“Yes, please.” She took a moment to get to her feet, waiting until she was certain her knees would not fail her and trying not to meet Finn’s discerning eyes, then busied herself by smoothing her skirts and collecting her emotions.

She did not want to tell Finn about the encounter with that horrid man. She did not want to tell anyone what he’d wanted with her. A pack of lies, certainly, but...but she did not want to give them voice. Or was it her own nameless fears that kept her silent? That he could be behind the attacks on Charles. That she, through the obsession of this demented man, could actually be responsible for the deaths of her husbands? That he would keep his promise and come back for her?

* * *

Charles stood at the window in Lord Carlington’s study. How could he tell the man what he suspected? It was bound to be a deep shock, perhaps welcome, perhaps not, but a shock nonetheless.

The door opened and Carlington entered. “Ah! Hunter. I was just going to send for you, lad. Finally heard from my man in the Royal Navy.”

Ah, yes. He’d been going to inquire regarding Georgiana’s supposed father and mother. He’d almost forgotten the offer.

“Sherry? Whiskey? Name your poison, lad. Not too early, eh?”

Charles glanced at the ormolu mantel clock. Five o’clock. “Sherry, I think.” He did not want to arrive home drunk. He still had a few matters to settle with Georgiana. And she would need to hear this news, too.

Carlington poured two glasses and brought one to Charles. “To old friends in the navy,” he toasted.

Charles drank and waited for Carlington to take a seat in a chair by the window. “Like to watch the world go by now and then,” he explained, gesturing to the window and chuckling. “See some of the damnedest things when no one knows you’re watching. Sit, Hunter. Don’t want to drink looking up at you.”

Charles sat in the chair next to him and glimpsed out the window. A very good view, indeed.

“Yes, well, to the point, eh? The Captain George Carson I was recalling could not have been little Georgiana’s father. Seems he and his wife both went down on his ship. No children. I asked my friend to look into any other Carsons who might fit the bill. No luck. Not yet, anyway.”

Charles hadn’t expected news. He was now certain Carlington could inquire into every Carson ever in the navy and never find Georgiana’s father. “I suspect you will not get the answer we want.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because I do not believe Georgiana’s father was in the Royal Navy. Nor was he ever a captain.”

“Well, who was he, then?”