Never Judge a Lady by Her Cover
Page 69
“It is not like that.”
“It is precisely like that. He could have married you himself. He could have protected Caroline. He’s the most powerful man in London. He could do any of those things. Instead, he foists you on Langley.”
She should tell him the truth.
“There.” He took her arms; his grasp warm and wonderful, and turned her into the light. “Just now. Tell me that. Tell me what you were thinking just then.”
She knew the words were stupid. That they would wreck them both. But she said them anyway. “I was thinking that I should tell you the truth.”
He stilled. “You should. Whatever it is – I can help you.”
It seemed so simple to tell him the whole truth. That she was Chase. That she had protected that identity without hesitation for all these years because of Caroline. Because Caroline would need something more someday, some kind of perfect, pristine name that would help her have the life she wanted. The life she deserved.
It would be easy to tell him. He wielded power just as she did – he would see the threat her identity had to her life. To Caroline’s. To the Angel. To her world. But he was too dangerous. He was the kind of person who threatened her with his very breath, not because he made his living on secrets, but because once he knew, he would hold Georgiana in his hands – her secrets, her name, her world, her heart.
It did not matter that he made her want to trust him.
It did not matter that he made her want to love him.
She had been betrayed by love – by its fleeting imperfection, by its lasting damage.
It was not to be trusted.
And the threat of it made him not to be trusted.
There was too much that hung in the balance, and Duncan West did not owe her enough to balance her secrets. He had too many of his own – too many that she did not know herself.
And this was their dance, secret for secret.
Tit for tat.
And so she did not tell him the truth. She chose to remind herself that more than security, honor, and respect, she needed someone who would not search for her secrets. She needed someone whom she would never trust.
Whom she would never love.
And if tonight taught her nothing else, it had taught her that she could love Duncan West. And love would only ever bring ruin.
“Goddammit, Georgiana, I wish you out from under his thumb.”
She, who built an empire on lies, was coming to loathe the lies she was forced to tell to protect it. To protect herself. To protect the Angel.
To protect Caroline.
She shook her head. “I told you, my arrangement with Chase is… different now.”
“And what of our arrangement? Yours and mine?”
Her gaze flickered to the pool. “Our arrangement is different as well.”
“Different how?”
Different in that she had not expected to want him this much. She had not expected to care. “More complicated.”
He laughed, the sound humorless. “Complicated is right.” He walked away from her, and she watched him, unable to tear her gaze from the beauty of him, golden in the firelight, towel slung low over his hips.
Finally, he turned back, threading his fingers through his beautiful hair. “And if I paid for it? Your town house? Your life? Christ, tell me what the hell he has on you. I can fix it. I can make Caroline a darling of Society – I can give you the life you want.”
It was the most tempting offer she’d ever heard. Better than tens of thousands of pounds on the roulette table. Better than a hundred thousand pounds against Temple in the ring. It was perfect. And she wanted nothing in her life more than to take it.
“Let me help you start a fresh life. Without him.”
If she were another woman, a simpler one, she would let him do just that.
If she were merely Lady Georgiana Pearson, she would throw herself into his arms and let him care for her. Let him repair all the damage she’d done. She would take the help he promised and build a new life. As a new person.
Hell, she might even beg him to marry her, in the hopes that his partnership would allow her to live out the rest of their days in the happiness she’d been promised long ago.
But all the promises were fantasies. And she was not that woman.
She was Chase.
And this life, the life she’d built for herself, the choices she’d made, the path she’d taken… they did not lead to him. And she should disabuse both of them from any notion that they did.
She met his gaze. “You can’t give me the title.” He opened his mouth to reply. She stopped him. “The title, Duncan. It’s the title that matters.”
There was a moment when she saw everything in his gaze, all the truth and sadness and frustration that she felt, mirrored in his beautiful eyes. And then it was gone. Replaced with calm reserve.
“Then you are lucky, my lady, that Chase paid his fee. My papers are at your disposal. Your title you shall have.”
She wanted to reach for him. To beg him to make good on their arrangement. She wanted her two weeks. Perhaps two weeks with him would be enough to survive a lifetime without him.
She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What of tonight?”
What of his touch? Of his promises?
What of his control?
It turned out he was in control after all.
“Get dressed,” he said, ending the evening. She was dismissed. He was already turning away. Heading for the door. “Get dressed and get out.”
Chapter 14
… The darling of this year’s season continues to win her peers with honest charm and unimpeachable beauty. The Lady was spotted at Mme. H—’s modiste shop this week, purchasing gowns in proper, pale silk with perfect, high necks. She is modesty incarnate…
“It is precisely like that. He could have married you himself. He could have protected Caroline. He’s the most powerful man in London. He could do any of those things. Instead, he foists you on Langley.”
She should tell him the truth.
“There.” He took her arms; his grasp warm and wonderful, and turned her into the light. “Just now. Tell me that. Tell me what you were thinking just then.”
She knew the words were stupid. That they would wreck them both. But she said them anyway. “I was thinking that I should tell you the truth.”
He stilled. “You should. Whatever it is – I can help you.”
It seemed so simple to tell him the whole truth. That she was Chase. That she had protected that identity without hesitation for all these years because of Caroline. Because Caroline would need something more someday, some kind of perfect, pristine name that would help her have the life she wanted. The life she deserved.
It would be easy to tell him. He wielded power just as she did – he would see the threat her identity had to her life. To Caroline’s. To the Angel. To her world. But he was too dangerous. He was the kind of person who threatened her with his very breath, not because he made his living on secrets, but because once he knew, he would hold Georgiana in his hands – her secrets, her name, her world, her heart.
It did not matter that he made her want to trust him.
It did not matter that he made her want to love him.
She had been betrayed by love – by its fleeting imperfection, by its lasting damage.
It was not to be trusted.
And the threat of it made him not to be trusted.
There was too much that hung in the balance, and Duncan West did not owe her enough to balance her secrets. He had too many of his own – too many that she did not know herself.
And this was their dance, secret for secret.
Tit for tat.
And so she did not tell him the truth. She chose to remind herself that more than security, honor, and respect, she needed someone who would not search for her secrets. She needed someone whom she would never trust.
Whom she would never love.
And if tonight taught her nothing else, it had taught her that she could love Duncan West. And love would only ever bring ruin.
“Goddammit, Georgiana, I wish you out from under his thumb.”
She, who built an empire on lies, was coming to loathe the lies she was forced to tell to protect it. To protect herself. To protect the Angel.
To protect Caroline.
She shook her head. “I told you, my arrangement with Chase is… different now.”
“And what of our arrangement? Yours and mine?”
Her gaze flickered to the pool. “Our arrangement is different as well.”
“Different how?”
Different in that she had not expected to want him this much. She had not expected to care. “More complicated.”
He laughed, the sound humorless. “Complicated is right.” He walked away from her, and she watched him, unable to tear her gaze from the beauty of him, golden in the firelight, towel slung low over his hips.
Finally, he turned back, threading his fingers through his beautiful hair. “And if I paid for it? Your town house? Your life? Christ, tell me what the hell he has on you. I can fix it. I can make Caroline a darling of Society – I can give you the life you want.”
It was the most tempting offer she’d ever heard. Better than tens of thousands of pounds on the roulette table. Better than a hundred thousand pounds against Temple in the ring. It was perfect. And she wanted nothing in her life more than to take it.
“Let me help you start a fresh life. Without him.”
If she were another woman, a simpler one, she would let him do just that.
If she were merely Lady Georgiana Pearson, she would throw herself into his arms and let him care for her. Let him repair all the damage she’d done. She would take the help he promised and build a new life. As a new person.
Hell, she might even beg him to marry her, in the hopes that his partnership would allow her to live out the rest of their days in the happiness she’d been promised long ago.
But all the promises were fantasies. And she was not that woman.
She was Chase.
And this life, the life she’d built for herself, the choices she’d made, the path she’d taken… they did not lead to him. And she should disabuse both of them from any notion that they did.
She met his gaze. “You can’t give me the title.” He opened his mouth to reply. She stopped him. “The title, Duncan. It’s the title that matters.”
There was a moment when she saw everything in his gaze, all the truth and sadness and frustration that she felt, mirrored in his beautiful eyes. And then it was gone. Replaced with calm reserve.
“Then you are lucky, my lady, that Chase paid his fee. My papers are at your disposal. Your title you shall have.”
She wanted to reach for him. To beg him to make good on their arrangement. She wanted her two weeks. Perhaps two weeks with him would be enough to survive a lifetime without him.
She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What of tonight?”
What of his touch? Of his promises?
What of his control?
It turned out he was in control after all.
“Get dressed,” he said, ending the evening. She was dismissed. He was already turning away. Heading for the door. “Get dressed and get out.”
Chapter 14
… The darling of this year’s season continues to win her peers with honest charm and unimpeachable beauty. The Lady was spotted at Mme. H—’s modiste shop this week, purchasing gowns in proper, pale silk with perfect, high necks. She is modesty incarnate…
