Taming the Rake (22 page)

Cecelia’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Not progressing is probably more accurate. It is not going at all as I had planned. Claire spends more time with him than I do.”

Cecelia’s attempt at lightness came out a bit more churlish than she intended, and her sisterly smile looked strained.

Claire’s cheeks turned pink. “That’s only because the duke fends me off on the poor man.”

“The ‘poor man’ doesn’t appear to mind too much,” Cecelia said sarcastically.

Gina looked back and forth between the two, trying to cover her amusement. Apparently, it hurt Cecelia’s vanity to have Mr. Ryder prefer her sister to her.

“I’m surprised you noticed with you and the duke constantly shooting daggers at each other,” Claire retorted.

Gina’s brows shot up. “What’s this? Have you had further run-ins with the duke?”

“Yes—” Claire started before Cecelia cut her off with a frown.

“It’s nothing,” Cecelia snapped.

“He left Newmarket rather abruptly,” Gina offered.

“Did he?” Cecelia feigned disinterest, but Gina would wager that Cecelia knew much more than she was letting on. Apparently, Gina wasn’t the only one with secrets.

Claire wrinkled her nose. “We’re not ‘slaying’ much of anything are we?”

“Not yet,” Cecelia acknowledged, “but the season is not half over.”

Gina shook her head. “I don’t know, Cece. More and more I’m beginning to believe it’s ludicrous to suppose that any of these men will come up to scratch. What chance do three innocent, drawing-room-reared young ladies truly have with a bunch of jaded, disreputable rakes?”

Cecelia’s sapphire eyes sparked. “We have everything: beauty, charm, position, fortune—”

“Modesty,” Gina added.

Cecelia shot her a sharp look. “And some of us have wit. Just remember that any man would be lucky to have one of us for a wife, including a rake. Not that we would ever marry one of them.”

No one said anything for a moment. Cecelia looked at them expectantly.

“Of course not,” Gina answered.

“Never,” Claire echoed, with a convincing shudder.

“We must not discourage so easily. They are just men, after all.”

Cecelia said it with such disdain, Gina had to laugh.

“And they need to be taught a lesson,” Cecelia reminded them.

“I agree, but don’t you think our plan smacks of hypocrisy? If we succeed and humiliate them by publicly rejecting their proposals, will we be any better than they are?” Gina recalled her pang of guilt in the card room. She’d been having second thoughts about this whole thing—right up until the point that he’d so coldly rejected her.

“I agree with Gina, Cece. Don’t you feel guilty doing something so… mean?”

Cecelia glared at them as if they were turncoats. “One man’s hypocrisy is another man’s justice. It is how you look at it.” She turned to Gina. “Don’t go soft on me. Think about what he has done.”

She did. Unfortunately, Gina was all too aware of what he was capable of. But it didn’t make her feel any better. Not wanting to think about him anymore, she stood up.

“We’ll have to finish this conversation later. I must return to St. Albans House.”

“Why? It’s still early.” Cecelia asked.

“I’m not sure. My father wants to see me before the party tonight.” Gina frowned. “He seemed distracted when they returned from dinner last night.” The duke and duchess had dined at Carlton House after the trial. “He said it was very important.”

“I wonder if the duchess is—” Claire stopped when she saw Gina’s face.

A lump of uncertainty plummeted down her chest. Dear God, was that it? Was her stepmother finally pregnant?

A knot of dread tightening in her gut, Gina approached her father’s study with burgeoning trepidation. She paused at the door for a minute, took a deep breath, then finally knocked. On her father’s command, she entered.

“You wished to see me, Father.”

He was seated behind his desk. Unfortunately, he was not alone. Confirming her suspicions of a child, her stepmother sat across from him with her hands folded primly in her lap.

“Yes, sit down, Georgina.” He waved her in, motioning for her to take a seat next to the duchess. “The duchess and I have something that we would like to discuss with you.” When neither would meet her eye, her unease increased twofold.

Gina’s heart raced. Here it was. The moment she’d been waiting for and dreading at the same time. The moment that she would be forever replaced in her father’s affections. She told herself not to be ridiculous, but the petty fear would not go away.

The duke cleared his throat. “It’s about your recent trip to Newmarket.”

What? Not a baby? Relief coursed over her. Gina despised herself for her jealousy. She knew how badly her father—like every man—wanted a son, an heir. But she also knew that with a new baby their closeness would never be the same. Look what had happened when he’d married.

The duke continued unaware of her relief. “Why didn’t you tell us that Lord Coventry was staying at Greenbrook?”

Her heart sank. Trepidation returned, but this time it was ladened with guilt. “But, how…?”

“Lady Darby mentioned something at dinner last night.” The duchess spoke for the first time.

The jealous old harpy
. Lady Darby
had
suspected something, Gina had been sure of it. But she hadn’t realized the ramifications. Nor had she anticipated that Lady Darby would mention something to her father.

He continued. “I thought I’d made my position on Lord Coventry absolutely clear. With his reputation, he is not a man I would approve of as a suitor for my daughter. You deliberately lied to us about his presence at Greenbrook.”

Shamefaced, Gina didn’t know what to say. He was right. She had no excuse. She couldn’t tell him why. “We were well chaperoned.”

“That is hardly an excuse. But you are fortunate that I am acquainted with Lady Eudora—I mean, Mrs. Persimmons—otherwise I would be demanding something entirely different. As it is, I am very disappointed in you, Georgina. I thought better of you.”

Gina felt ill. She loved her father; she hated to think that she’d failed him. But she had. Tears sprang to her eyes, and a hot knot lodged in the back of her throat. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” He looked to the duchess. “Perhaps I’ve been too lax with you. I felt guilty for you having to grow up without a mother, but I think I’ve done you a grave injustice. By now you should have a home and children of your own.”

“But I’ve been happy living with you.”

His eyes softened. “And I you, Gina. Don’t think I don’t appreciate how well you managed things around here.” He drew up his wide shoulders. “Nevertheless, it is well past time for you to marry. Lord Rockingham has asked for permission to court you, which I have given. I will not force you to accept his suit, but you will choose a husband before the season has finished.”

Gina gasped and turned on her stepmother. “This is all your fault. You don’t want me here!”

The cold snap of her father’s fury stopped her. “Not another word, Georgina. Before we both say something we will regret. The duchess had nothing to do with my decision. This is because of your actions.
You
were the one who lied.”

Chastened, Gina reined in her tongue. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks. “You’ll force me to marry a man I do not love?”

He paled. “This is not the middle ages. I will not force you to marry anyone. But I think I have raised a daughter who knows her duty.”

Gina felt like her entire world had been turned upside-down. Her father, the man she’d always loved and revered above all others, was casting her aside.

He was right, she would do her duty. She wouldn’t stay where she was no longer wanted.

He seemed to guess how she was feeling. “I just want you to be happy, Gina. Would you really wish to spend a lifetime with a man like Coventry? Trust me, a man of his ilk would only succeed in making you miserable. Men like him cannot be tamed for a simple life of domestication.”

Not trusting herself to speak, Gina shook her head. She wished she could explain that it was all a ruse, that she had no intention of marrying Coventry. But she couldn’t. Nor was she sure that it would make a difference. Her father was like her, once he made a decision, he stuck with it—no matter how ill-conceived. And he’d decided it was time for her to leave.

“Rockingham is an excellent suitor. I thought you would be happy. But if there is someone else that you would prefer—”

“There’s no one,” she said hollowly. “If that is all, I think I would like to retire to my room before the party.” Not trusting herself to look at her stepmother again, Gina spun on her heel and raced from the room.

He might argue with the semantics, but her father was forcing her to marry. How could he do this to her?

If only it had just been a baby.

The duchess rose from her seat and circled around the desk to comfort her visibly distressed husband. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she bent down to place a soft kiss on his temple. “I’m sorry, my love. You knew she would be upset. Georgina is a proud girl and doesn’t like having her hand forced. But she’ll come around. Lord Rockingham is charming and handsome and completely besotted. If she gives him a chance, I know she will see that this is for the best. Lord Coventry would only break her heart.”

She’d never seen her husband look so strained. The duke loved his daughter and watching the betrayal cloud Georgina’s face had been difficult to withstand, even for the duchess. She could only imagine how he must feel.

The duchess was aware of how her stepdaughter felt about her, and she understood. She’d probably feel the same in her position. Not that understanding had made her adjustment any easier. But Georgina was a good girl. She’d come around. Eventually. She hoped.

“She was looking at me like I’d just slipped a knife into her back.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

He gave her a look. “It wasn’t?”

She gave a half laugh. “Well, I suppose it was. But remember you’re only giving her a nudge. I know you won’t force her to marry against her will, and deep down, so does Georgina.”

“I know you’re right. I just hate to see her so unhappy. The Earl of Coventry, for God’s sake. I like the man well enough, but not for my daughter. With his reputation?” He shook his head. “He is uncontrollable. As soon as Georgina realized that she could not make him toe the line, she would be miserable.”

The duchess kept her own counsel, comforting her husband as best she could with her gentle ministrations, massaging the tension from his neck with her fingers. As difficult as that scene had been to witness, the duchess knew that what could happen if Georgina continued unchecked was much worse.

Georgina had guessed correctly. It had been at the duchess’s urging that the duke insisted she marry. She had to do something. A few days ago, the duchess had overheard an unlikely conversation about the Rake Slayers. To say that she was shocked would put it mildly. Never would she have imagined that her stepdaughter would be involved in something so beyond the pale.

Although she had to hand it to her; the duchess hadn’t thought her very proper stepdaughter had it in her. Everything about Georgina was so prim and perfect, the duchess was relieved to see that she was capable of breaking the rules and making an occasional mistake.

And she had no doubt, despite the ring of justice to their plan, toying with Lord Coventry was a mistake. An egregious one. The duchess had seen enough women fall victim to his indifference over the past few years. Intentionally or unintentionally, he chewed women up then spit them out when he was finished with them. She didn’t relish seeing the same thing happen to her stepdaughter. And despite Georgina’s protestations to the contrary, Georgina did not seem altogether unaffected by Coventry’s considerable charms. He was a heartless rogue to be sure, but a handsome and undeniably appealing one, all the same. It really was a pity that he’d been so irreparably scarred. The duchess had no doubt that if Georgina fell in love with Lord Coventry, she would get hurt—with his past there was simply no other possible outcome.

The duchess had known his first wife, and stood witness to the hell Lady Serena Lyons put him through. Perhaps that was why she’d always felt a bit sorry for him. She understood his lack of trust and his anger. Serena had humiliated him with countless liaisons and her all-too-vocal accompanying slurs against his manhood.

He’d spent the past few years proving his wife wrong. No one could question his prowess now.

Georgina simply didn’t understand the sort of man she was trifling with. God help the girl, if he ever found out what Georgina intended. To be made the butt of a silly girl’s drawing room prank would likely be the height of humiliation for him—especially if Georgina succeeded. So the duchess had devised her plan to protect both Gina and Coventry. The ramifications, the potential for disaster, was simply too great for her to do nothing.

She only hoped it worked. She didn’t want to have to tell the duke what his beloved daughter was up to.

What was she going to do? Hours later, as Gina stood chatting with a group of friends at Count and Countess Lieven’s soirée, she was no closer to a decision. She felt like some tragic heroine in a bad novel: Aging spinster daughter forced by jealous young stepmother to marry. Perhaps it wasn’t an entirely accurate characterization, but Gina’s feelings were too raw right then for fairness.

Her father’s betrayal still stung. Clearly he didn’t want her around any longer, but how could he ask her to marry a man whom she didn’t love? Whom she barely even knew?

Admittedly, she should have told him the truth about the house party, but did one tiny lie of omission really warrant such drastic consequences? It’s not as if she’d been compromised… exactly. She grimaced. Well, that anyone knew of at least.

She sighed and scanned the ballroom, resigned to her fate. Her father knew her well. She would do her duty and marry. But who? Lord Rockingham? Another Hellfire Rake? And what of the wager? How was she going to find a suitable man to marry
and
bring Coventry up to snuff at the same time? It simply wasn’t possible. As much as she detested losing or conceding, she’d have to put Coventry and the wager aside. In the limited amount of time she had before the end of the season, finding a husband—a real husband—took precedent.