Two Beaux and a Promise Collection Read Online Free PDF Page A

was the price the Beaux paid for notoriety.
    He bit back a sigh. There was no point in mentioning the possibility to Georgiana. She had enough problems as it was. Her ankle had to hurt like the very devil. Binding it had let her walk from door to carriage without limping, aided by Jacob’s arm around her shoulders. But she had been white-faced with pain by the time he and Jacob had traded places at the second tollgate. Now she sat on the facing seat, alternately biting her lip and staring out the window.
    Richard wished he’d kept his horse instead of turning it over to Jacob. Riding inside the carriage was torturing him. Georgiana was too attractive. He’d chosen the opposite seat because he’d feared that rubbing her with every jolt would severely test his control. What he hadn’t counted on was the effect of looking at her for four hours.
    The housekeeper had arranged her hair into soft curls that did interesting things to his libido. As did her current gown – a different one than she’d worn earlier. It might be unfashionable, but it stretched tightly across a stunning bosom, leaving him awash in sensation as his body recalled how perfectly she fit against him.
    “Have you given further thought to a new guardian?” he asked to avoid hauling her into his lap so he could he ravish those luscious lips.
    She shook her head. “The court will have to appoint someone. I have no suggestions.”
    “None?”
    “Think,” she snapped. “Few people know I exist. Even before Papa died, I spent most of my time with my governess. I’d barely recovered from his burial before Grandfather and my uncle died. Derrick kept me confined to the house, less visible even than his wife.”
    He nodded. “Now that I think on it, she never accepts invitations.”
    “Of course not. She must even deny callers.”
    “Why?”
    “Derrick’s orders. The house has not been redecorated in sixty years, so most of the furnishings are shabby. He refuses to waste money on it. Then there is the matter of fashion. Despite being a baroness, Margaret has a wardrobe no better than mine – simple gowns more suited to the working classes. Which proved fortunate in the end. Before I fled, I was able to don all of my gowns. Carrying a valise would have drawn attention.”
    He nodded, irritated that his investigations had revealed none of this information. Her words also explained why her bosom seemed more prominent than before. The borrowed valise under her seat must contain the rest of her wardrobe. “I will consider possible guardians. I know several men who might do.”
    “I doubt it. Aristocrats don’t soil their hands with merchants’ daughters.”
    “Wrong!”  His temper snapped at yet another cut of a class she knew little about. “Hawthorne had a ward until recently. Her father was a soldier of no particular breeding, and her mother the bastard daughter of a whore. Yet he took her in and found her a decent husband. The only reason I won’t ask him to take charge of you is his marriage. He deserves privacy for a time. Nor can I ask my father. Not because of your background,” he added over her protest. “My mother’s health is failing. I doubt she’ll see Christmas. New responsibilities will hasten her demise.”
    “Oh.”  She had the grace to look abashed.
    “Herriard’s behavior is not typical of the aristocracy,” he continued sternly. “Nor is Stagleigh’s. Most of us can’t stand either of them. Instead, remember your grandfather. I did not know him well, but he struck me as a reasonable and kindly gentleman.”
    “True.”  She sighed. “But you must know that most of your peers consider themselves superior to merchants. Perhaps we should find my guardian outside the aristocracy. Even Grandfather admitted that my breeding would reduce my credit.”
    “Not necessarily. While there are a few sticklers who will frown, the fact remains that many ladies are in your position. Consider Lady Jersey, whose mother was a