A Daring Liaison. Gail Ranstrom

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СКАЧАТЬ importuned Mrs. Huffington to allow me to show her the topiary. Quite artistic, were they not, my dear?”

      My dear? He really was going a bit far. “Quite, sir. Exceeded only by your knowledge of the subject.”

      He laughed. “You are most welcome to whatever random knowledge I possess.” Turning to the others, he said, “Must be getting Mrs. Huffington back to my sister. She will be waiting.”

      “Lady Sarah?” one of the women asked.

      “I only have the one sister,” he said. He turned Georgiana in Sarah’s direction and led her away. “I’ve found it’s always best to face bullies down,” he said. “Let them know you’re equal to them and that they cannot force you into a corner.”

      “But what was the point of mentioning your sister?”

      “She has a reputation in the ton, Mrs. Huffington. Whoever Sarah approves publicly will be accepted without question.”

      “Ah, so then …”

      “Those women will say nothing further against you.”

      Lady Sarah aside, she did not think any of them would want to cross Charles Hunter again. “But they will not like it,” she said. “And they will be waiting for me to do something wrong.”

      He looked down at her, one eyebrow cocked and a challenge in his words. “Then your task is simple, Mrs. Huffington. Do nothing wrong.”

      She shivered as he released her hand. What a pretty pass things had come to when even her professed friends did not think she would be able to keep out of trouble! Worse—that she, herself, doubted it, too.

       Chapter Three

      Georgiana took long strides, still fuming as she swept out of her bank, her bulging reticule stuffed with two thousand pounds in banknotes tucked tightly under her arm. How could things have gotten so out of hand in just a few months? While she had been languishing in Kent mourning Lady Caroline’s death, every distant relative of Lady Caroline and Gower Huffington had been conspiring against her!

      “Madam, could you slow down a bit?” Clara asked, trotting along behind her. “’Twill make no difference if we’re a few minutes late at that fancy French dress shop.”

      Georgiana slowed her pace to accommodate her maid’s shorter legs. “Sorry,” she murmured.

      Now able to catch her breath, Clara began prattling on about the doings of the household, leaving Georgiana’s mind to return to the problem at hand—how would she find the resources to look into her husbands’ deaths and fight for her rights at the same time?

      The worst of it was that Walter and Robert Foxworthy, Aunt Caroline’s second cousins on her mother’s side, had filed for conservatorship over her. Conservatorship? According to her solicitor, Mr. Goodman, they were suing for the right to control her inheritance and her into the bargain! Untenable! How dare they?

      They had never bothered to visit even once in the past twenty years or more. Why, she wouldn’t know them if she bumped into them on the street. Furthermore, warning her that the matter could take years to settle, Mr. Goodman had advised her to withdraw a considerable sum of money from the bank before her funds were frozen.

      If that were not enough, he informed her that she was being sued by a Mr. York, Gower’s cousin twice removed. She hadn’t even been aware that Gower had a nephew, let alone that he claimed to be the sole heir to Gower’s fortune. Indeed, Mr. York was claiming she had used duress to make Gower change his will in her favor! Why, nothing could be further from the truth. He’d changed his will in her favor even before they’d said their vows.

      She had hoped her business in town would be settled today, and instead she had this new set of problems and another chore. Mr. Goodman had given her a packet that contained a copy of Aunt Caroline’s will for her information and a few letters to her old friends. All were now safely tucked in her reticule along with that absurd amount of cash.

      Common sense told her she should go back to Kent and await the outcome of the Foxworthy petition and the York suit, but how could she do that? She had to defend herself against these scurrilous charges. Her life and future were hanging in the balance! Any plans of hastening back to the countryside to avoid Mr. Hunter’s attentions were now out of the question. He’d advised her to stay out of trouble and now, through no fault of her own, trouble had found her.

      The ladies had arrived at La Meilleure Robe. Georgiana left Clara in the waiting room and joined them in the back fitting room. They brushed her apology for being late aside with kind reassurances.

      “These little lulls give us a chance to actually discuss the books our husbands think we are reading,” Sarah said.

      “What book do they think you are reading?”

      “The Pirate, by the Wizard of the North,” Lady Annica said.

      “It would be a good idea for you to read the book, too, dear,” Grace Hawthorne said. “In the event someone should ask. I have an extra copy if you’d like.”

      Georgiana nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Hawthorne.”

      “Grace,” the woman corrected. “I shall have a footman deliver it to your home.”

      A handsome woman with the bearing of a queen entered through a side door and clapped her hands. “Ah! We are in pursuit, eh? Well, come. ‘Oo is my client?”

      Sarah nudged Georgiana toward the dressmaker’s platform. “Madame Marie, this is Mrs. Georgiana Huffington.”

      The dressmaker circled Georgiana, her gaze sweeping up and down, assessing her figure. “Ah, yes. I know just the style for you, petite. And the correct color for you is violet. Any violet, but especially deep violet. Please say you never wear yellow.”

      “Never again.” Georgiana vowed to go home and cull anything yellow from her wardrobe as she undressed to her corset and chemise.

      Marie nodded and began taking Georgiana’s measurements with knotted string behind a short dressing screen. Barely a moment later, a pleasant-looking man entered the room and was introduced as Madame Marie’s husband, Mr. Francis Renquist. Gina explained that he had been a Bow Street Runner and was the group’s chief investigator. He’d been briefly informed of her dilemma.

      He nodded acknowledgment to Georgiana and then chivalrously avoided looking at her. “I have a few questions before I can begin, Mrs. Huffington.”

      “Ask anything, sir.”

      He took a small pad of paper and a lead pencil from his waistcoat pocket and prepared to take notes. “Do you know of anyone, no matter how far-fetched, who might have any reason to kill your husbands?”

      “None,” she answered quietly as Madame Marie continued to knot her string. “That is why these events are so bewildering.”

      “Do you have any former suitors who might bear a grudge?”

      “No. Between marriages and mourning, I have not been much in society.”

      “Could it be possible that either of your husbands had enemies? СКАЧАТЬ