The Leopard Prince (Princes #2)(45)

Inside, Tony was standing by the mantelpiece, staring down his bony nose into the fire. He evidently hadn’t touched the food on the sideboard. Tony was the spitting image of their late father, tall and angular with a face dominated by prominent cheekbones and heavy eyebrows. The only difference was the auburn hair he’d inherited from their mother. That, and the fact that he was a much nicer man than Father had been.

Usually, anyway.

George noticed that Violet was conspicuously absent. She had a very good idea why, too. She’d corner the minx later.

“Good morning, Tony.” George strolled to the sideboard. Buttered kippers. Even Cook knew. She helped herself to a large serving. She was going to need her strength.

“George,” Tony greeted her coolly. He advanced swiftly to the door and flung it open. Two footmen looked at him, startled. “We won’t be needing you. Make sure we’re not disturbed.”

The footmen bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

Tony closed the door and yanked down on his waistcoat to straighten it. George rolled her eyes. When had her brother become this stuffy? He must have been practicing in his room at nights.

“Are you having breakfast?” she asked as she sat down. “Cook has made some lovely kippers.”

Tony ignored her pleasantry. “What could you have been thinking?” His tone was unbelievably dour.

“Well, really, if you want to know the truth, I wasn’t thinking at all.” She took a sip of tea. “I mean, not after the first kiss. He does kiss very well.”

“George!”

“If you didn’t want to know, why ask?”

“You know very well what I mean. Don’t play the flibbertigibbet with me.”

George sighed and put down her fork. The kippers tasted like ashes in her mouth, anyway. “It’s no concern of yours.”

“Of course it’s my concern. You’re my sister and you’re unmarried.”

“Do I poke into your affairs? Do I ask about what ladies you see in London?”

Tony crossed his arms and stared down his large nose at her. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“Yes”—George poked a kipper—“but it should be.”

He sighed and took a chair opposite her. “Maybe so. But that isn’t how the world works. We don’t deal with how society ought to be but rather how it is. And society will judge you rather harshly, my dear.”

She felt her lips tremble.

“Come back to London with me,” Tony said. “We can forget about this. There are some fellows I can introduce you to—”

“It’s not like choosing a horse. I don’t want to exchange a bay for a chestnut.”

“Why not? Why not find a man from your own class? One who could marry you and give you children.”

“Because,” George said slowly, “I don’t want just any man. I want this one.”

Tony slammed the flat of his hand down on the table, making her jump. He leaned over her. “And the rest of the family can just go to hell? You’re not like this. Think about the example you’re setting for Violet. Would you want her doing what you’re doing?”

“No. But I can’t live my life as an example for my sister.”

Tony pursed his lips.

“You don’t,” George accused. “Can you honestly say that with every action you take, you stop to think, ‘Is this a good example for my brothers?’ ”

“For God’s sake—”

The door swung open.

They both looked up in surprise. Tony frowned. “I thought I said to admit no—”

“My lord. My lady.” Harry closed the door on the two harassed footmen outside and advanced into the room.

Tony straightened away from the table. He was easily half a head taller than Harry, but the shorter man did not break stride.

“Are you well, my lady?” Harry spoke to George, but his eyes never left Tony.

“Yes, thank you, Harry.” She’d assured him back at the cottage that Tony would never hurt her, but he must have decided to see for himself. “Would you like a kipper?”

A corner of Harry’s mouth twitched upward, but Tony forestalled his answer. “We have no need of you. You may go.”

“Tony,” George gasped.

“My lord.” Harry inclined his head. His expression was once again carefully blank.

George’s heart felt like it was breaking into tiny pieces. This isn’t right. She started to rise, but Harry had already turned back to the door.

Her lover left the room, dismissed like a common servant by her brother.

NOTHING LEVELED A MAN QUITE like being unable to protect his woman. Harry jerked on his tricorn and cloak and strode to the stables, the heels of his boots kicking up gravel. But Lady Georgina wasn’t really his, was she? She wasn’t bound to him by law or society. She was a woman who’d allowed him to make love to her. Once.

And maybe only that once.

It had been her first time, and inevitably, he’d hurt her. He’d given her pleasure before, but was it enough to make up for the pain afterward? Did she understand that only the first time was painful? Maybe she wouldn’t let him prove that he could give her pleasure with his flesh inside hers.

Harry swore. The stable hand holding his mare’s head eyed him warily. He scowled at the boy and took the reins. The fact that he wanted Lady Georgina didn’t help his mood. Now. Under him or above him, it didn’t matter; he just wanted to sink his flesh into hers and feel the world fall away again.