She waggled her eyebrow suggestively and then laughed. He captured her giggles with a kiss, tumbling her back onto the rumpled sheets. He would delay for another hour, and then he would slip away. Georgiana seemed to agree, for she eagerly opened her thighs to cradle his weight, clasped the muscles of his shoulders and hugged her to him.
Christ. Being in her arms felt so right. If only he could somehow convince her they belonged. His heart jerked, and he stiffened.
“What is it?” she murmured against his lips.
“I am wondering if I should simply keep you forever.”
Her mouth worked once or twice, and then she spluttered in an uncharacteristic fashion. Uncertainty shifted in her eyes, but he did not allow her lips to form a denial. He claimed them in a burning kiss, only allowing passion to hold them in its incendiary arms.
The doubt could stay for another day.
Chapter Eleven
Georgiana had thought herself experienced and worldly, but a single night in bed with Rhys had proven how very wrong she had been on that score. Her entire body flushed as the gratifying memories of the lascivious ways he had loved her for the night rioted through her thoughts. A full two days had passed, and she was still acutely conscious of the tenderness between her legs, and the ache in her heart. How she wished he had been able to stay. She had no notion on how to conduct an affair, nor had he offered any suggestions. Rhys had simply slipped away when she had been drowsy with repletion after another fierce but wonderful round of making love.
A sweet giggle reached her ears, and she lifted her head. Simon strolled inside with Nicolas perched atop his shoulders. Her son’s eyes drooped sleepily, and Georgiana smiled. Simon had thoroughly exhausted him. First, they had spent an hour at the lake fishing, then they had taken a swim. As if that hadn’t been exhausting enough, her little duke had tormented Simon into playing a game of hide-and-seek. Their cavorting had left her free to deal with replying to several letters from various charities, investment matters, and a meeting with her man of affairs.
“How is my son?” she asked, pushing from the desk. Georgiana had all but smothered him yesterday, to his initial delight. He had become curious at her constant hovering, and she had forced herself to retreat and trust that he was well. The man who’d wanted to hurt him was dead, and villains were not lurking in every corner. Nicolas did not remember much because of the laudanum, so he was not filled with terrors. She was eternally grateful the memory of it would not haunt him as it would her.
“Mamma,” he said with a happy chortle, scrambling down from Simon’s shoulder to launch himself at her.
She hugged him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He hardly knew what he had done to escape the schoolroom for a second day, but he was basking in all the attention.
“You will go with Williams and wash up for luncheon,” Georgiana said, ruffling his dark hair. “Afterward we will play chess together.”
“Or we could go riding?” Innocent blue eyes, a perfect replica of hers, peered up at her.
A peculiar feeling swept over her. She had almost lost her precious boy to greed. Fear clutched at her heart, and she took a steadying breath. “Or riding.”
He grinned then hurried toward his waiting nurse. When they disappeared around the corner, she faced her brother. “We almost lost him.”
“The thought crossed my mind several times today. Mr. Tremayne must be amply rewarded.”
Her cheeks warmed, and she quickly turned from her brother’s scrutiny. She strolled to the mantle and poured claret into two glasses and handed one to her brother. “Mr. Tremyane’s reward is one of the reasons I asked you to stay a few days, Simon.”
He lowered himself onto the sofa and leaned back against the cushion. “I’ve been curious about the deal you brokered.”
“He requires my aid in launching his eldest sister into society.”
“Good God, he has a sister?”
She smiled. “Three.”
Simon took a sip of his drink, a considering frown on his face. “That was all he asked for?”
“Yes.”
“I confess to being surprised. The man is known to have held the entire government to ransom until they agreed to his price for secrets. He could have asked you for so much more.”
Something inside her chest melted that he hadn’t used their connection for more mercenary means. She was quite aware of the ruthlessness beneath the veneer of a gentleman he presented. So why hadn’t he been more calculating with her? Perhaps he likes me.
“I find it rather honorable his thoughts were for the betterment of his family.”
Her brother grunted.
“I’ve ensured several invitations will be sent to Miss Lydia Tremyane. Lady Beecham’s midnight ball two weeks from today will be a successful crush, and I hope you will attend and single her out for a dance or two. Perhaps you may even lead her in to supper.”
“Done.”
“Thank you.”
A knock sounded on the library door, and a few seconds later, her butler shuffled in at her command to enter.
“This was just specially delivered for you, Your Grace,” he said, handing her a thick, folded paper.
“Thank you, Gibbs.”
With a short bow, he exited. She flipped the letter over. The seal was not one she recognized, and with a frown, she picked up the letter opener and slit the seal.
Your Grace, the Duchess of Hardcastle,
I was most prettily beseeched by a dear friend, Mrs. Doretha Tremayne, to invite you to our annual country ball, held at our manor house Stonybrook, in our small but friendly and intimate village in Hastings. I find myself very curious as to the connection between you and Dotty, and I also miss your company dearly. It has been several months since we last spoke. I hope you will honor my viscountess and me with your presence, Georgiana.
Faithfully,
Viscount Pottinger
Georgiana flipped the paper around with a frown. Slowly she sank down into her chair. Rhys’s mother had prevailed upon William for an invitation for her? William Berkeley, Viscount Pottinger, had been a friend of her husband until the viscount’s disgrace. He had become somewhat a misfit among polite society, for he had been outrageous enough to marry his daughter’s governess several years earlier. Hardcastle had been most displeased, but Georgiana had cheered the man silently for pursuing hi
s own happiness. She had encountered him a few times in London since Hardcastle’s death, their exchanges had been warm and polite, but his destroyed reputation had prevented a deeper friendship, though she liked his clever amiability.
“What is it?” Simon queried.
“I’ve been invited to a local ball, in Hastings.”
“Hastings! Good God. By whom? All of our set are in town.”
At her silence, his brows lowered. “Come now, do not leave me wondering.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “It’s from Lord Pottinger. It seems he was prevailed upon by Mrs. Tremayne to send me an invitiation,” Georgiana said with some amusment, shocked by Mrs. Tremayne’s forwardness but also intrigued. Did the lady wish to meet her? Perhaps her son informed her Georgiana would present her daughter to polite society. Then why not pay a call upon her?
Incredulity filled Simon’s eyes. “You will of course decline, but do so politely.”
She leaned back against the high wingback, her gaze unfocused on the wall of books in front of her. Was it that Rhys had prevailed upon his mother to send the invitation, under his guise of discretion? “I believe I shall attend.”
“Have you lost your senses? You are a duchess; why would you even desire to attend?” he countered in a troubled voice.
She took a long, fortifying breath. “Because I want to, Simon.”
“Don’t be silly; people like us don’t simply get to do what we want,” he said flatly. “That family is a family of nobodies. Where would Lord Pottinger even find the gall to send you an invitation? Has he forgotten his disfavor with society?”
She did not like the cold arrogance in Simon’s mien. It seemed as if everything good and wonderful had been forgotten about the viscount since his marriage. “Would you like to attend with me?”
Simon glared at her. “Upon my word, you really plan to attend?”
She replied with a haughty lift of her brow. “Yes, I do.”