Never Judge a Lady by Her Cover
Page 8
Mary’s mouth went wide. “Someone like me?”
Georgiana leaned back. “With your appalling lack of social grace, I mean.”
The barb hit true. Mary pulled back as though she’d been physically struck. Her friends covered their gaping mouths, holding back laughter that they could not help. Georgiana raised a brow. “Cruelty lacks pleasure when it’s directed at you, doesn’t it?”
Mary’s anger came sharp and unpleasant. And expected. “I don’t care how large your dowry is. No one will have you. Not knowing what you really are.”
“And what is that?” Georgiana asked, laying her trap. Willing the girl into it.
“Cheap. A trollop,” Mary said, cruelly. “Mother to a bastard who will likely grow into a trollop.”
Georgiana had expected the first, but not the last. Her blood ran hot. She stepped into the golden light spilling from the ballroom, her words quiet. “What did you say?”
There was silence on the balcony. The other girls heard the warning in the words. Murmured their concern. Mary took a step back, but was too proud to retreat. “You heard me.”
Georgiana advanced, pressing the girl from the light. Into darkness. Where she reigned. “Say it again.”
“I —”
“Say it again,” Georgiana repeated.
Mary closed her eyes tightly. Whispered the words. “You’re cheap.”
“And you’re a coward,” Georgiana hissed. “Like your father and his father before him.”
The girl’s eyes shot open. “I did not mean…”
“You did,” Georgiana said quietly. “And I might have forgiven you for what you called me. But then you brought my daughter into it.”
“I apologize.”
Too late. Georgiana shook her head. Leaned in. Whispered her promise. “When your entire world comes crashing down around you, it will be because of this moment.”
“I am sorry!” Mary cried, hearing the truth in the words. As well she should. Chase did not make promises she did not keep.
Except she was not Chase tonight. She was Georgiana.
Christ.
Georgiana had to back away from the moment. Mask her anger before she revealed too much. She stepped away from Mary and laughed, loud and light, a sound she’d perfected on the floor of her club. “You lack the courage of your convictions, Lady Mary. So easily frightened!”
The other girls laughed, and poor Mary came unhinged, disliking the way she’d been so thoroughly toppled from her position. “You’ll never be worthy of us! You’re a whore!”
Her friends gasped collectively, and silence fell on the balcony. “Mary!” one of them whispered after a long moment, voicing their mutual shock and disapproval at the words.
Mary was wild-eyed, desperate to resume her place at the top of the social pyramid. “She started it!”
There was a long pause before Sophie said, “Actually, we started it.”
“Oh, be quiet, Sophie!” Mary cried before turning and running into the ballroom. Alone.
Georgiana should have been happy with the scene. Mary had gone too far and learned the most important lesson of Society – that friends would stay with you only as long as they weren’t marred by your tarnish.
But Georgiana wasn’t happy.
As Chase, she prided herself on her control. On her stillness. On her thoughtful action.
Where the hell was Chase tonight?
How was it that these people held such sway over her – over her emotions – even now? Even as she wielded such deft power over them in another parallel life?
You’re a whore.
The words lingered in the darkness, reminding her of the past. Of Caroline’s future if Georgiana did not make this world accept her.
The girls held sway because she allowed it. Because she had no choice but to allow it. It was their field, and the game was to make her feel small and insignificant.
She hated them for playing so well.
She turned on the remaining women. “Surely you all have someone waiting for the next dance?”
They dispersed without hesitation – all but one. Georgiana narrowed her gaze on the girl. “What’s your name?”
She did not look away, and Georgiana was impressed. “Sophie.”
“I know that bit.”
“Sophie Talbot.”
She did not use the “Lady” she was due. “Your father is the Earl of Wight?”
The girl nodded. “Yes.”
It was virtually a purchased title – Wight was exceedingly wealthy after making a number of impressive investments in the Orient, and the former King had offered him a title that few believed was warranted. Sophie had an older sister who was a newly minted duchess, which was no doubt why she’d been accepted into this little coven.
“You go, as well, Sophie, before I decide that you’re not the one I like, after all.”
Sophie’s mouth opened, and then closed when she decided not to speak. Instead, she spun on her heel and returned to the ball. Smart girl.
Georgiana let out a long breath when she was once again alone, hating its tremor, the way it sounded of regret. Of sorrow.
Of weakness.
She gave silent thanks that she was alone, with no one to witness the moment.
Except she wasn’t alone.
“That won’t have helped your cause.”
The words came dark and quiet from the shadows, and Georgiana whirled around to face the man who had spoken them. Tension threaded through her as she peered into the darkness.
Before she could ask him to show himself, he stepped forward, his hair gleaming silver in the moonlight. The shadows underscored the sharp angles of his face – jaw, cheek, brow, long straight nose. She inhaled sharply as frustration gave way to recognition… then relief, and more excitement than she’d like to admit.
Georgiana leaned back. “With your appalling lack of social grace, I mean.”
The barb hit true. Mary pulled back as though she’d been physically struck. Her friends covered their gaping mouths, holding back laughter that they could not help. Georgiana raised a brow. “Cruelty lacks pleasure when it’s directed at you, doesn’t it?”
Mary’s anger came sharp and unpleasant. And expected. “I don’t care how large your dowry is. No one will have you. Not knowing what you really are.”
“And what is that?” Georgiana asked, laying her trap. Willing the girl into it.
“Cheap. A trollop,” Mary said, cruelly. “Mother to a bastard who will likely grow into a trollop.”
Georgiana had expected the first, but not the last. Her blood ran hot. She stepped into the golden light spilling from the ballroom, her words quiet. “What did you say?”
There was silence on the balcony. The other girls heard the warning in the words. Murmured their concern. Mary took a step back, but was too proud to retreat. “You heard me.”
Georgiana advanced, pressing the girl from the light. Into darkness. Where she reigned. “Say it again.”
“I —”
“Say it again,” Georgiana repeated.
Mary closed her eyes tightly. Whispered the words. “You’re cheap.”
“And you’re a coward,” Georgiana hissed. “Like your father and his father before him.”
The girl’s eyes shot open. “I did not mean…”
“You did,” Georgiana said quietly. “And I might have forgiven you for what you called me. But then you brought my daughter into it.”
“I apologize.”
Too late. Georgiana shook her head. Leaned in. Whispered her promise. “When your entire world comes crashing down around you, it will be because of this moment.”
“I am sorry!” Mary cried, hearing the truth in the words. As well she should. Chase did not make promises she did not keep.
Except she was not Chase tonight. She was Georgiana.
Christ.
Georgiana had to back away from the moment. Mask her anger before she revealed too much. She stepped away from Mary and laughed, loud and light, a sound she’d perfected on the floor of her club. “You lack the courage of your convictions, Lady Mary. So easily frightened!”
The other girls laughed, and poor Mary came unhinged, disliking the way she’d been so thoroughly toppled from her position. “You’ll never be worthy of us! You’re a whore!”
Her friends gasped collectively, and silence fell on the balcony. “Mary!” one of them whispered after a long moment, voicing their mutual shock and disapproval at the words.
Mary was wild-eyed, desperate to resume her place at the top of the social pyramid. “She started it!”
There was a long pause before Sophie said, “Actually, we started it.”
“Oh, be quiet, Sophie!” Mary cried before turning and running into the ballroom. Alone.
Georgiana should have been happy with the scene. Mary had gone too far and learned the most important lesson of Society – that friends would stay with you only as long as they weren’t marred by your tarnish.
But Georgiana wasn’t happy.
As Chase, she prided herself on her control. On her stillness. On her thoughtful action.
Where the hell was Chase tonight?
How was it that these people held such sway over her – over her emotions – even now? Even as she wielded such deft power over them in another parallel life?
You’re a whore.
The words lingered in the darkness, reminding her of the past. Of Caroline’s future if Georgiana did not make this world accept her.
The girls held sway because she allowed it. Because she had no choice but to allow it. It was their field, and the game was to make her feel small and insignificant.
She hated them for playing so well.
She turned on the remaining women. “Surely you all have someone waiting for the next dance?”
They dispersed without hesitation – all but one. Georgiana narrowed her gaze on the girl. “What’s your name?”
She did not look away, and Georgiana was impressed. “Sophie.”
“I know that bit.”
“Sophie Talbot.”
She did not use the “Lady” she was due. “Your father is the Earl of Wight?”
The girl nodded. “Yes.”
It was virtually a purchased title – Wight was exceedingly wealthy after making a number of impressive investments in the Orient, and the former King had offered him a title that few believed was warranted. Sophie had an older sister who was a newly minted duchess, which was no doubt why she’d been accepted into this little coven.
“You go, as well, Sophie, before I decide that you’re not the one I like, after all.”
Sophie’s mouth opened, and then closed when she decided not to speak. Instead, she spun on her heel and returned to the ball. Smart girl.
Georgiana let out a long breath when she was once again alone, hating its tremor, the way it sounded of regret. Of sorrow.
Of weakness.
She gave silent thanks that she was alone, with no one to witness the moment.
Except she wasn’t alone.
“That won’t have helped your cause.”
The words came dark and quiet from the shadows, and Georgiana whirled around to face the man who had spoken them. Tension threaded through her as she peered into the darkness.
Before she could ask him to show himself, he stepped forward, his hair gleaming silver in the moonlight. The shadows underscored the sharp angles of his face – jaw, cheek, brow, long straight nose. She inhaled sharply as frustration gave way to recognition… then relief, and more excitement than she’d like to admit.
