An Elegant Façade (Hawthorne House Book #2) (20 page)

Kneeling behind a chaise lounge in the dressing room of a man who may or may not be dangerous didn’t exactly make him feel as if he had earned her thanks. She needed to be prepared that he might not be as sure as he wanted to be. “You can thank me when I’ve managed to actually get you home with your reputation intact.”

She sighed. “While I dearly hope we accomplish that, I want to thank you for trying. Even if we fail.”

Colin lifted an eyebrow, though he doubted she could see it in the dark closet. “Your faith in my ability astounds me.”

He felt her arms shift in a shrug. “It will be quite ironic if Jane manages to get home unscathed and I suffer the consequences.”

“I’m going to get you out of here and back to Trent.”

“Good.”

Did she believe him? Did it matter? Colin searched the dark. Her breathing reached his ears, quick and shallow. Too quick. “Everything will work out. All we have to do is get outside and we’ll have smooth sailing.”

“Given our location a good ten feet above the ground in a room with no outside door, forgive me if I don’t find that comforting.”

A heartbeat passed before she spoke again. “You can’t tell anyone.”

Colin frowned at the rushed words that had come spilling from her mouth. “Of course not. The whole point of this is to hush the entire night up.”

He actually heard her swallow. “No . . . you can’t tell anyone about me. About . . . about the reading.”

A shout from the other room had them hunkering down behind the chaise before Colin could answer. Lord Howard was mad. Colin leaned over Georgina. If anyone or anything came busting through that door, she wasn’t going to be the one it caught.

Her hair tickled his chin, and her hands pressed lightly against his chest. Even through the coat, vest, and shirt he could feel the pressure.

His heart jumped.

Then it stopped beating. It was simply the situation. He was not attracted to Georgina. She was conniving, calculating, grasping, and a host of other things he didn’t admire. The fact that she was also smart, caring, and brave didn’t negate those things. They only made the picture more complex.

“So why the desperate husband hunt?” he whispered into her ear.

“What? You want to talk about this now?”

“We have to wait—we don’t have to be bored. Keep your voice down and he won’t hear us.”

“It’s what women do.” She’d turned her head to whisper straight into his ear. Suddenly this talking plan didn’t seem like such a good idea.

“What?” He cleared his throat and shifted his weight so that he wasn’t pressing along her body in quite as many places.

“Get married. What else would a woman of my station be doing?”

She had a point, but her actions seemed to go well beyond that of the average marriage-minded female. “Yes, but why so determined? First Raebourne, then Ryland, now Ashcombe. It’s obvious you’re hunting titles.”

Lord Howard bellowed from the other room, calling for someone named Jasper. His stomps echoed through the dressing-room door, going back and forth across the bedchamber.

They weren’t going anywhere any time soon.

With a sigh, Georgina shifted, pressing closer to Colin’s chest before sinking lower to the floor. She wiggled up until her back was to the wall and her shoulder against the raised back of the chaise lounge. She slid her legs under the skirted furniture. She was completely hidden from the door.

Colin relaxed back onto his heels, allowing the moonlight to come between them, giving him a clear view of her face. Could she see his as well? Or did his angle to the window keep him in shadow?

Her lips curved softly as she snared him in her direct gaze. She lowered her voice to a whisper, not that Lord Howard could hear anything over the racket his pacing march was making. “Tell me something about you first.”

Part of Colin prayed for very heavy cloud cover to roll in. All of him prayed for a miracle to get them out of there.

“What do you want to know?” he asked, even as he told himself to change the conversation.

She thought for a moment. “Why you’re in London.”

Colin’s eyebrows rose. “If I tell you why I live in London, you’ll tell me why you want a husband so badly?”

Her head tilted to the side as she considered him. “I’ll trade a question for a question.”

That seemed fair enough, but was it a good idea? There wasn’t much she could ask that he wouldn’t willingly answer. His father, of course, but she didn’t know enough to ask about him. Even his connection to the War Office could be talked about in the vaguest of ways, since she was already aware of it.

Lord Howard started screaming, and loud crashes indicated his temper had a physical element to it. The summoned Jasper had apparently arrived, though the servant didn’t seem very concerned about the missing woman. He actually had the gall to ask if Lord Howard had checked under the bed.

Apparently he hadn’t. And would he then check the dressing room? Colin hung his head. Why couldn’t the man just run after her so he could get Georgina out of this overgrown closet?

Surprisingly, his fellow trespasser didn’t seem perturbed by the ruckus on the other side of the door.

There was nothing else to do while they waited but talk, or whisper, in their case. He sat next to her, back against the wall. “All right. I’m in London because that’s the center of business. The stock exchange is there, the people with the investment money are there. Lots of shipping, lots of news. It’s the hub of life for a man like me.”

“I want protection.”

The whispered confession slipped into Colin’s heart, making him want to pull Georgina close even though he didn’t understand her statement. Their talk didn’t seem so harmless now. “Protection from what? You’re the daughter of a duke.”

“Who can’t read or write. What do you think would happen to me if Society knew that I can’t address my own invitations? That I can’t read a cook’s menu? That the household accounts and correspondence of any man I married would have to be handled by someone other than the lady of the house?”

“Shh-shhh
.”
Colin wrapped his arm around her, trying to calm her as her voice crept louder than a toneless whisper. He pulled her close and rubbed a hand along her back. He’d never thought about what it meant for a woman to be able to do things like that, but most of the things that an aristocratic husband would expect of her would require her to read.

“And I need you not to tell them.” The whisper broke as if she were holding back a sob.

“I won’t. I won’t.” He’d planned to talk to Riverton as soon as they got back, but now it didn’t seem quite so important. She managed so well, did it really matter if her brother knew?

She leaned into him a moment before pulling away slightly. “I have to marry before everyone finds out, and it has to be to a man powerful enough to protect me when they do.”

Which certainly wasn’t him.

His arms dropped to his side at the sudden thought. Why would he think such a thing? Marriage might be something he’d thought about with more frequency of late, but marriage to her had never entered his mind. At least not seriously.

“Why can’t you read?”

“No, no, Mr. McCrae. A question for a question.”

Colin didn’t want to play anymore. The men in the other room had stilled, their voices lowering to normal level, which meant Colin couldn’t hear them. “I’m going to check on Lord Howard.”

Easing away from Georgina was harder than anticipated. He felt chilled where she’d been pressed up against his side.

He pressed his ear to the door, hoping he hadn’t missed a vital part of their plan.

“. . . going to find her.” Lord Howard’s flat voice sent a chill down Colin’s back. “You search all of the rooms up here. She can’t have gone far.”

“Of course, sir.” The servant sounded bored. Colin didn’t think he’d be putting much effort into the search. Not that Colin could blame the man. It was doubtful that the servants had much respect for Lord Howard, especially since they weren’t even really in his employ.

More stomping and then a door opened and closed. Only one man had left. Even if the servant wasn’t willing to exert himself in the search, he wouldn’t ignore two unknown people emerging from the dressing room.

Enough noise passed through the door for Colin to know the other man didn’t immediately leave the room, but not enough to know what he was doing. Colin pressed his ear closer to the crack between the door and the wall, hoping to hear something definitive. His ear grew warm and the wood bit into it, but he learned nothing. All was quiet on the other side of the door. Had the servant left? They were trained to be quiet. Perhaps Colin had missed his exit.

Wincing at the slight
click
of the latch, Colin eased the door
open enough to line up one eye with the opening and peek into the other room.

Jasper was certainly doing a thorough job of searching the upstairs rooms. If Lady Jane had decided to hide in the pages of the book, the servant would have her in hand within the hour. Chances were he wouldn’t care about Colin and Georgina sneaking or even walking boldly across the room, but it was possible Howard had sent more servants searching as he left the house. Time for a new plan.

He eased the door shut and looked around. They had a chaise lounge. And clothes.

“Gather up his trousers. As many as you can.” Colin crossed to the window. He was about to ruin some clothes, but Georgina’s reputation was considerably more important than Lord Howard’s trousers, assuming they were in fact his and not one of the other grandchildren’s.

The window hadn’t been opened in a long time, if ever, and it took quite a bit of effort to raise the sash. There was at least fifteen feet between the window sash and the ground. Even though the wall beneath them was edged with bushes, it was too far to jump.

“Here.” Georgina dropped a pile of trousers at his feet.

He tied one pair around the chaise lounge and then tied them leg to leg until he had a decent line of them hanging out the window, scraping the top of the hedge. He pulled them back up and offered the end of the makeshift rope to Georgina. “Hold on tight, and I’ll lower you down.”

She looked over the line of trousers. “Will it hold?”

“If it starts to rip I’ll get you as low as I can before you fall.”

“Comforting.” Despite the flat tone of her whisper, she stepped up to the window.

Colin stood on the trousers to keep them from falling and wrapped his hands around her waist. Her quickly indrawn breath told him she was as affected by their situation as he was.

He rather wished he hadn’t learned that.

He lifted her to his chest and she slid her feet through the open window. Her skirts fell away, baring her stockinged leg.

He almost dropped her.

“Colin!”

“Sorry.” Colin tried not to laugh as he watched her, clutching a trouser leg in her hands, glaring over her shoulder while her legs dangled out the window. She was never going to forgive him for this indignity as it was. If he laughed, she’d hate him for sure.

And he didn’t think he wanted her to hate him anymore.

He lowered her out the window. She whimpered as he released her weight, and only her grip on the trousers kept her from crashing into the hedge below.

Colin lowered her as fast he could, listening for any sign that Jasper was growing curious. At least Lord Howard would credit Lady Jane for the ladder of trousers left dangling from the dressing room.

Georgina tried to push off from the wall as she neared the greenery below. She almost cleared the hedge, but her shoulders ended up buried in the side of the bush. Still she seemed happy with her escape, looking up at him with a brilliant smile of relief, even as she struggled to roll out of the bush.

Colin slung his leg over the windowsill and tried to work his way down the trouser legs. Easing his way over the knotted fabric was difficult. A ripping sound filled his ears as his knees cleared the top of the ground-floor window.

The pants gave way, and he tumbled down, his momentum sending him crashing through the bush and rolling to the lawn below until he landed in a heap at Georgina’s feet. If anyone were actively looking for them, they’d have heard that. He could only hope that all the servants were as apathetic to Lord Howard’s plight as Jasper was.

He looked up to see her smile, wide and unpretentious. Possibly the first genuine expression he’d ever seen on her face.

She nudged his shoulder with her foot. “And you thought you’d never be one of the men at my feet.”

An answering grin spread across Colin’s face. Amazing how easy it was to think of him as Colin now.

The smile fell off her face. It was too easy. She cleared her throat. “I find myself in need of rescue once more, Mr. McCrae.”

He picked himself up off the ground. “I thought I was Colin.”

“Oh, very well. Would you care to remove the bush from my hair, Colin?”

Instead of immediately moving forward to extract her from the hedge, he stayed where he was, staring, his grin growing the slightest bit wider. “You look good in green.”

Georgina rolled her eyes. It was the only part of her she could move, since the hedge’s hold on her hair was forcing her to stand at an angle that made moving her hands impossible unless she wanted to burrow farther into the foliage.

He laughed softly but moved forward to inspect her situation. After a few tugs he gave a low whistle. Georgina tried to twist around, as if she’d be able to see what he was looking at.

“Stay still, won’t you? You’ve got limbs stabbing straight through your, er, arrangement.”

She tried to breathe calmly while he contemplated how to release her. But then he pulled the knife she’d seen earlier out of his
little leather bag. Her heart pounded, and she tugged against the bush. “Oh, no, please don’t cut my hair. I’ll have to hide away for the rest of the Season.”

Heavy hands held her shoulders still. Where had he put the knife?

“Calm down. I’m going to cut the bush. I assume you have no objection to traveling home with a twig or two in your coiffure?”

“Of course not.” Now she felt ridiculous.

He retrieved the knife from the ground and leaned into the limbs behind her. They were going to leave quite a dent in the hedge, along with the ruined clothing. It would certainly give the servants something to talk about in the morning. A few quick tugs and she felt the pressure on her head release. She moved several steps away, shaking out her skirt and smoothing her hair as best she could, which wasn’t well given her new accessories. “Which way do you think?”

He looked both ways and then pointed. “Let’s try that way. I’m pretty sure we’re on the opposite side of where we went in.”

They walked, Colin adjusting his steps to match her own. He was very considerate like that. She was very thankful he’d come along. Despite her attempts to wrangle him, he could easily have declined, as evidenced by the way he detoured the coach in London.

He dropped the knife back into the bag. That was as good a topic of conversation as anything else. She cleared her throat. “Where did you get the bag?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Playing again, are we? Very well. I stopped by Ryland’s and borrowed it from his parlor maid.”

She hadn’t been thinking of starting the game again, but if he wanted to . . . Wait, what had he said? “His . . . Marshington’s parlor maid picks locks? Does he know this?”

“I’m fairly certain he taught her.”

Interesting. But still not as intriguing as the fact that Colin possessed such a skill. “Who taught you?”

“That’s another question.”

The grass felt soft under her feet, like the plushest of rugs. With
the warm night air and just enough moonlight to keep it from being oppressively dark, she found she was comfortable. Right now there was no risk that anyone would discover her secret, even if she were to talk about it. She’d never felt so free. Even alone in her room with Harriette there was the chance that another maid would enter, or even her mother. She’d never truly been alone before. She was safe. “Ask me anything.”

He seemed to consider his words for several steps. His speech was slow when it finally came. “How is it your family doesn’t know about . . . you know?”

“My deformity?”

He put a hand on her arm to pull her to a stop, bringing her attention to his scowling face. “Don’t call it that.”

“My shortcoming? My failing?”

His lips thinned. They started walking once more. “Your inconvenience.”

An interesting choice of words. She considered the fact that she was in slippers instead of boots inconvenient. As was the fact that, should they encounter Lord Howard on the grounds, her white dress would give them away instantly. Her inability to read, however, always seemed much more of a hindrance than a mere inconvenience. “Harriette.”

Wrinkles deepened across his forehead. “Harriette?”

“My lady’s maid.” Georgina trailed a finger along the edge of a blooming rose as they passed. “I was six before I realized that everyone didn’t struggle the way I did. I thought getting the letters to stay in one place was part of learning to read. My governess thought I was lazy and spoiled. So I used that and insisted on having my own lady’s maid. Mother thought it was adorable, especially when I chose Harriette.”

“Harriette is quite young herself.”

Georgina nodded, wondering once more what would have become of Harriette if she hadn’t joined Georgina. “Two years older than me. She lived in the village. I took a book out to the lake one day to see if I could read it without anyone around. She
found me and waited for me to try. When it didn’t work, she read the book to me.”

“And you asked for her as your maid.”

“She was brilliant. Took my lessons with me and everything. We would trade slates when the governess wasn’t looking. She called Harriette horrible things. Harriette tried to tell me Miss Winston didn’t really think those things, it was just because Harriette was a nobody from the village, but I knew. I knew every word she said was really meant for me.”

Where were these words coming from? She’d never even admitted such a thing to Harriette before, wasn’t even sure she’d admitted as much to herself. But it was true. Georgina had felt the weight of every disparaging remark that had been directed at the maid. Even her mother hadn’t understood why Georgina kept insisting that Harriette was the perfect companion, had gently suggested that perhaps Harriette wasn’t suited to the aristocratic life, even as a lady’s maid.

“And now?” Colin’s gentle voice broke through Georgina’s memories.

She glanced at Colin. Here, finally, was someone who could know exactly how smart and loyal Harriette was. “She does all of my writing. Reads me the society pages every morning and goes through all of my correspondence. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

“Where was she when Jane’s letter came?”

“On laudanum for an injured ankle.” Now that Jane was found, Georgina could smile at the memory of Harriette’s antics. The woman did not handle her medicine well.

They walked in silence. If the sun had been shining and they weren’t in imminent danger of being caught in a compromising situation of questionable legality, it would almost have seemed they were taking a stroll through her garden in London. What would it be like to take such a stroll with Colin? The conversation was certainly coming more easily than—

“Well, that’s a problem.”

Georgina looked up from her toes to find they’d come upon a wall. A wall with no gate in sight. “A walled garden, perhaps?”

Colin nodded. “With any luck we’re already in it and jumping this wall will get us out.”

Georgina swallowed hard. The wall was brick that had been mortared into a completely smooth surface. Not even a vine of ivy dared to mar the surface. “Jump it?”

He bent his legs and cupped his hands together. His jacket pulled taut across his shoulders. “Give me your foot and I’ll boost you up. Then I’ll climb up and lower you down the other side.”

Georgina looked from Colin to the wall and back again. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Unless you would like to try going through the house again. I, for one, would like to make it back to the carriage before sunrise.” He nodded toward his cupped hands. “Your foot?”

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t place her foot in his hands and, well, jump over his head. Everything she’d done for the past twelve years had been to create the image of a dignified, sophisticated, perfect young lady. This would be scandalous.

It’s only a scandal if anyone knows about it.

Why did she have to spend the evening dealing with two Colin McCraes? That was insupportable. She needed to get back to London.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Georgina lifted her skirt, wincing at the mud and grass stains crawling along the hemline. Her slippers were ruined as well. She slid her foot into his joined hands. Until that moment she hadn’t known she was cold, had in fact thought the night rather warm, but the heat that cocooned her foot left the rest of her shivering. She looked down on his head as she placed her hands on his shoulders, curling her fingers into his coat to keep from running them through the mess of reddish brown curls.

He looked up, probably to make sure she was ready, and their eyes met. She was close enough to see the individual lashes, feel the mingling of their breath. If she brushed her lips against Colin’s,
what would it feel like? Would that incredible warmth that surrounded her foot and seeped through her hands find its way to her lips as well?

“Up we go,” she said brightly before she could give in to the temptation.

Colin lifted her, and she immediately felt the sensation of falling. She bit her lip to keep from squealing but couldn’t prevent herself from wrapping her arms around his head in a fit of self-preservation.

Once Colin was upright, he waited silently while she searched for the nerve to unwind herself and reach for the top of the wall. It was only a foot or two over Colin’s head, easily reachable from her position if she could convince herself to let go of his jacket.

“All you have to do is sit on the wall. I’ll do the rest.” Colin slid one hand up to her knee and hoisted her higher, forcing her to sit on the wall or topple headfirst over his shoulder.

Once her backside was settled, she actually felt quite secure. Secure enough to smile down at Colin, who was rubbing his hands over his face and mumbling. Wait, was he praying? As if God was going to help them out of this mess. If He’d wanted to intervene, He could have let them flee through a door that led to a corridor instead of the dressing room.

Finally Colin looked at her, then down at her ankles peeping out from her skirt. There was nothing she could do about it in her current position. Considering he’d had his hand halfway up her skirt—something she was truly trying not to think about—she didn’t see why a bit of ankle would send him into a panic now. “Are we going to stay here all night?”

Colin groaned before jumping and throwing his arms along the top of the wall. He grunted, working his feet up the wall until he could throw a leg over. He sat up, breathing hard.

“Very impressive.” Georgina grinned.

“Hmmm.” Colin grabbed her under the arms. Really, was there anywhere this man’s hands weren’t going to go this evening?

There was no gentle coaxing this time. He tugged her to him
and flipped her legs to the other side of the wall as if she were a rag doll. With one leg on either side of the wall, he leaned over and dangled her along the back side of the wall. Then he let go.

Georgina sucked in her breath to scream, but then her feet were on the ground. It couldn’t have been more than a few inches.

Colin swung his other leg over and dropped down beside her. “Onward.”

He stomped off and Georgina scrambled after him. “Were you a spy too?”

“What?” He looked confused, but at least his pace settled back down to something she could keep up with.

“It’s my turn to ask a question. You and Ryland are close enough that you stood up with him at the wedding. Were you a spy?”

“No.”

She waited for him to expound. While he had, strictly speaking, answered her question, they’d embellished on all the other ones.

After several moments of silence, Georgina pressed for more. “How do you know Ryland, then?”

He glanced at her but quickly turned his face away. “That’s another question.”

“Ask me one, then.” She would give his question a curt response as well, and they’d be right back to him within seconds.

“What were you thinking back there, before I threw you up on the wall?”

Georgina stumbled. Had he noticed her intention to kiss him? Was it something she’d done? Did a person change when they thought about kissing? She’d never had to worry about it before. Not that there hadn’t been a man or two who wanted to take her aside for a stolen kiss, but she had merely sidestepped the situations. She had no way of knowing if she would be a good kisser, and she would not risk her reputation in order to find out. Now she was wishing she’d tried to study the subject a bit more. She always figured that by the time it mattered she would already be married or at least engaged.

She glanced at Colin. At some point they had both stopped and
were standing in the quiet, waiting on her to answer. She opened her mouth to tell him the truth. It was what she’d been doing all evening, and part of her wanted to hold on to the novelty, to let him be the one person she never lied to. But her tongue couldn’t form the words. “Er, that I had no idea I was afraid of heights.”

“I met him in Spain.” He started walking again.

He knew she was lying. She didn’t know how she knew he knew, but she did. Otherwise he’d have given a more complete answer.

Georgina took in a deep breath, oddly compelled to know how he’d met the duke and knowing that now was her only opportunity. She bartered with her tongue for a partial truth instead of a complete lie. “I wondered how your hair would feel.”

It was his turn to stumble. “My hair?”

She nodded but kept walking, using the motion as an excuse to keep her face averted. “Is it soft? It curls in the most interesting way. Griffith’s and Trent’s hair just sort of lays there. Yours seems to have . . . life.”

He tipped his head sideways as they rounded the corner of the house. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

“No, I think I’d rather not.”

He smiled at her as he straightened, the tension seemed to leave his shoulders, and he strolled beside her once more instead of stomping. “My father owns a shipping company. I hitched a ride to Spain and ended up stumbling into the middle of a group of people trading slaves for guns. I didn’t know what to do, but I couldn’t leave those people. I tried to free them, but the traders caught me instead, throwing me in with the lot.”