The Ice Duchess: Scandalous Regency Widows, Book 2 Read Online Free PDF Page A

about—aside from a pack of malicious gossip. It had been long rumored that the very beautiful, enigmatic Catherine had once been an ‘actress’ who had snared the attention of the elderly roué, the Earl of Rosemont. After only two years of marriage, the earl had passed away, leaving Catherine with a sizeable inheritance. Some elements of the beau monde even dared to whisper that Catherine was nothing more than a grasping jade, and that perhaps she’d had a hand in her husband’s demise. Georgie had never been formally introduced to the woman, but she seriously doubted that would have been the case. The last time she’d crossed paths with Lord Rosemont—and it would have been several years ago—he had the look of a man with one foot already in the grave.
    “All right,” she agreed, standing and smoothing her skirts. She took one last sip of champagne before putting the glass aside. “Elizabeth is such a lovely thing. I should like to see how she is before we go. And as for Lady Rosemont, she is welcome to Markham.”
    Jonathon quirked a dark eyebrow as he offered his arm. “Giving up so soon?”
    Georgie cast him a disdainful look before she placed her hand on his sleeve. “There’s nothing to give up. I was never going to play along, no matter how much you and Helena wanted me to.”
    As they wended their way through the tight knots of chattering guests, Jonathon wisely steered the conversation to safer ground. “You know, I expect Elizabeth is much happier with Rothsburgh, despite all the gossip surrounding her. Her first husband was nothing but a scoundrel.”
    “Now that is something we can definitely agree upon,” replied Georgie with a wry smile.
    As they approached the small group—and Georgie steadfastly refused to make eye contact with Markham—she couldn’t help but admire what a fine pair the marquess and his wife made. Swathed in diaphanous, silver-gray muslin and silk, and a mine’s worth of diamonds, the fair-haired Elizabeth looked as ethereal as an angel. Lord Rothsburgh, impossibly tall and strikingly handsome—one might even say diabolically good-looking—stood close by her side, his dark gaze daring anyone outside their present circle to give him or his wife the cut direct.
    Of course, he was nothing but charm personified when Georgie and Jonathon exchanged greetings with him and his new marchioness. As was Catherine, Lady Rosemont.
    The elegant countess certainly commanded attention. Georgie was immediately struck by the confident glitter in Lady Rosemont’s lavender-blue eyes as she scanned the room, and the slightly feline smile curving her lips whenever she regarded members of the opposite sex—including Lord Markham. Georgie couldn’t help but revise her opinion of the woman. Perhaps some of the rumors about her—those related to her past profession—might be true after all. But then, surely Helena wouldn’t have formed an attachment to the countess if she were actually guilty of the things whispered about her.
    Phillip soon claimed her attention, diverting her thoughts. “I’m so sorry to have reneged on our game, Georgie,” he said with a rueful grimace. “I hope you don’t mind that Markham stepped in.”
    “Not at all,” lied Georgie with a smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Markham—to the other side of Jonathon—watching her. “We shall simply have to arrange a round between us another time.”
    Phillip returned her smile. “Most definitely.”
    Markham leaned her way, as if about to speak, but Georgie turned to Helena. If he wanted to flirt with a woman so badly, he should transfer his attention to Lady Rosemont. She was certainly casting a great deal of appreciative glances his way. “So Jonathon tells me that poor little Phillipa is unwell,” she said to her friend. “I hope it is not too serious.”
    A slight crease appeared between Helena’s elegantly arched brows. “Just a bad cold the physician thinks, compounded by the fact