Miller, Raine - The Undoing of a Libertine (Siren Publishing Classic) (4 page)

“You have a good memory, sir. And yes, I do still.”

That lovely warmth of feeling Jeremy had enjoyed so well dissipated just as quickly as it came once the announcement for dinner was made.

One of the other guests pushed forward to claim the honor of escorting Georgina to the table. She had no choice but to assent.

Lord Edgar Pellton, Baron, from someplace or another in Avon, was indeed a guest here and sniffing after Miss Georgina Russell in hopes of making her his next baroness. The man was rich, titled, and in need of an heir. He’d been married before, but lost his wife in childbirth, along with an infant daughter. It was said that Pellton didn’t mourn the loss of his wife for even a day, angry that she hadn’t seen fit to give him a son, and returned immediately to his notorious ways with those who shared in his penchant for orgiastic bacchanals. Behavior quite ridiculous for a man far into his fourth decade, in Jeremy’s opinion.

After his arrival, he’d unfortunately discovered Lord Pellton’s attendance for the shooting party along with him.

What a goddamn letch!

Jeremy watched Pellton stride up to Georgina, his waistcoat buttons straining against the bulge at his middle. His features were sharp and mean, like a rat trying to steal from the larder, wriggling in where he didn’t belong and having a go at taking something he didn’t deserve. Pellton sure as hell didn’t deserve someone as lovely as Georgina Russell. Jeremy could scream that from the mountaintops with undisputable certainty. And Jeremy was positive he detected a slight shudder from Georgina when Pellton offered his arm. And he couldn’t imagine how Georgina’s father would even consider sacrificing her to such a beast. How those two disparate men had maintained a friendship was beyond Jeremy’s fathoming.

Jeremy tugged at his shirt cuff and set his jaw as the uncomfortable stirrings of jealousy coiled inside him, and he didn’t feel at all relaxed sitting down to dinner, despite the time he’d prepared for it and Myers’s efforts with the excellent new suit he’d worn.

To be placed next to Georgina was a small consolation. Jeremy looked at her hands, so finely made, and remembered the feel of holding one in a clasp. The moment she’d stepped forward and agreed to let him take her home, there had been firm strength in those elegant lady hands of hers.

“I trust you are no worse for wear after your very wet walk this afternoon? You certainly don’t look it,” he said admiringly. “Were you able to return undetected?”

“I went unnoticed, Mr. Greymont, and able to avoid…um…trouble, for a time at least.” She directed her eyes, still downcast, to the dinner companion on her other side—one Lord Pellton, who, at this very moment, nearly drooled over his plate as he stared most luridly at the bodice of her lovely green gown.

Jeremy found Pellton’s open staring crudely offensive and thought it would be a miracle if he managed to get through the whole fortnight of the party without sticking his boot up the idiot’s arse.

“I am glad then, Miss Georgina, that I had opportunity to assist you today.” He willed her to meet his eyes. When she finally did, he spoke carefully. “Something I would be honored to do for you, anytime.”

Georgina returned a slight nod before lowering her amber eyes once again. “Thank you. You are a kind gentleman.” She got quiet for a moment. “Your horse, Samson, is a beautiful creature.”

So are you.
“I’ll tell him you said so, the next time we talk,” he returned.

“Do you converse with your horse, Mr. Greymont?”

“All the time, Miss Georgina. I find him the most sensible gent of all my acquaintance.”

“I know what you mean.” She gave him the briefest of smiles and grew quiet once more.

Jeremy thought she looked sad, and he wondered what had happened to make her thus. He could admit that he found Georgina Russell very attractive and would be more than willing to bed her, but strangely, he wanted more than just a tumble. He found it suddenly essential to see her really smile, to have her golden eyes smoldering at him, teasing him. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted to be the one who made her happy, something he’d never cared about with anyone ever before. And if Jeremy knew one thing it was this: the fair Georgina Russell did not hold happiness in her heart.

Chapter Four

She fair, divinely fair, fit love for gods.

—John Milton,
Paradise Lost
(1667)

Gold and yellow, a smattering of vibrant orange-red, filtered above her head. The leaves were beginning to reveal their colors. A faint breeze rattled through the autumn pendants, making them shimmer in the light.

A beautiful sight, but Georgina could not appreciate any of it. Not the fine September afternoon, nor the glorious color showing amongst the leaves. She was miserable and didn’t see any way to escape her present problems. The argument with Papa this morning had been awful. He would not give up on persuading her to accept Lord Pellton’s offer of marriage.

“A peer of the realm offers marriage to you, Georgina. A title, status, security, and you would decry all of it in favor of rusticating into spinsterhood for all to ponder why? I’ll not allow such a thing, my daughter! This house will not fall to scandalous gossip. Never!”

Papa was ashamed of her and could hardly bear to look her in the eyes. Of course he was. She
had
shamed her family. Marrying her off would prove the easiest way for him to be rid of her. If he could sweep her under the rug with a good marriage, the Russell name would remain upstanding.

But marriage to Lord Pellton would not be good. Not for her. More like a nightmare.

Papa had told her this morning that Pellton was tiring of her reticence and would likely withdraw his offer if she didn’t show him some encouragement. Georgina had responded that he’d be wise to withdraw for encouragement from her would not be forthcoming in this lifetime or any other.

To punish her for not yielding, her father had yet again forbidden her to ride, so she had to make do with a walk on the grounds instead.

Georgina wasn’t trying to be difficult or make trouble, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Lord Pellton was a lecher. She hated the way he looked at her, like he dreamed of her unclothed—and vulnerable. And she didn’t believe he would be a kind husband.

A shudder passed through her body. She imagined he thought of the ways he would like to have her, and she would have to submit to it because he needed an heir, and it would be his right to do as he wished. He probably wouldn’t leave her alone until she produced one. And to live with him and call him husband? The very idea made her physically sick.

Truth be told, he frightened her. Something about him reminded her of the other one, bringing back a horror she didn’t fully remember, but still only wished to forget.

Lord Pellton didn’t see her as a person. She knew that much by the way he treated her and looked at her. To him, she was just a thing to be used until she provided what he wanted. She couldn’t do it, she just couldn’t. She was ruined now anyway. Georgina was no fool. She knew herself. She was well aware that marriage to a man like Pellton would…kill her.

Georgina did not hear the sound of boots upon the ground, well, not at first. She was awash in troublesome thoughts of her dilemma that didn’t seem to diminish the more she pondered.

* * * *

Sweet Christ.
Jeremy took in the view of her from behind and knew he was in trouble. More accurately, that in a few moments would be making a complete horse’s arse out of himself.

Sitting in a tree swing that looked like it had hung for many years from the great oak, Georgina absently rocked from side to side, using her foot as an anchor. Her dark golden hair had been bundled into a soft mass with plenty of errant curls escaping the attempt at containment. He wanted to pluck out the pins that held those locks. He wanted to see it tumble down her back and frame her face.

Then he would take a curl and lift it to his nose so he could fill his head with the soft whisperings of eglantine. After that, he would fist handfuls of the silky stands and pull her to his lips, in effect trapping her in his embrace. From there he would plunder that appealing mouth of hers, using his tongue to taste and claim the warm depths. Envisioning her mouth caused him to imagine his cock being surrounded by her sweet lips. He could just see them closing in around the head of his prick, right before she slid him to the back of her throat and sucked him dr—

Her head whipped around to glare at him. “Mr. Greymont? You startled me! I did not know you were there.”

Georgina’s indignant reprimand splashed his warm, erotic fantasy with drops of icy, cold reality, killing the thing instantly.

Caught red-handed, you bloody idiot! Go ahead. Now is the time to make that horse’s arse out of yourself!

“I—I was walking back from the shooting and saw you,” he sputtered. “You looked so peaceful in your musings there in the swing.” He cleared his throat. “I—I was reluctant to disturb you.”
Like you’re doing right now. Fool!

She stared at him, saying nothing.

“Miss Georgina.” He bowed. “I apologize for the disruption and for startling you. Please forgive me.”

He gave a slight shake to his head, hoping it might clear his brain of all the wicked thoughts. It didn’t. Those naughty fantasies weren’t even nudged slightly down and out.

“It is a small thing, sir. Consider yourself forgiven.” She turned back the way she had been facing before, her backside to him once again.

Yes… That lovely bum of hers, resting lusciously atop the seat of the swing, just begging to be stroked. He would use both hands to grip the cheeks as he slid up to—

“Mr. Greymont,” she admonished, “are you still there?”

His rampant conjuring interrupted for a second time, he jerked.
Good God, man, get a hold of yourself!

“Yes, I—I—I was just about to ask if I may escort you back to the house, Miss Georgina. It’s probably not the best for you to be out here with the shooting going on. Yes? Please—please allow me.” He came around to the front of the swing and offered his arm.

Georgina eyed him thoroughly, probably wondering what flustered him and why he kept stammering like a half-wit. God, if she knew the truth, she wouldn’t think him “kind” or a “gentleman.” She’d most likely smack him in the chops. The idea of her trying to cuff him brought on a smile and a rush of more erotic fantasies. Of how he’d trap her hands and turn her so he could bend her over and get to her from behind—

Stop! You are such a bastard.

Thankfully the sweet Georgina could not read his naughty thoughts, for she smiled at him. Not much of a smile, more of a rueful expression than anything, but he was beginning to know this was typical of her. Whenever she did grace him with a smile, it was really only half-beam, and as arousing as hell.

In fact, everything about Georgina aroused him. She affected him profoundly. His body got tight and hard, his tongue tangled in the most annoying way, prohibiting coherent speech, and yet, he could not keep away regardless of how foolish he behaved in her presence. He was drawn like a bee to a glade of sweet blossoms.

“Very well, sir. I am past my time anyway and may expect certain chastisement from my papa for going out in the first place.” She got up from the swing and took his arm.

He gulped and cleared his throat again. “Surly not, Miss Georgina. Your father probably just wants to keep you safe from harm, yes?”

He loved the way she felt so soft next to him. He could smell her, too, and again the scent affected him viscerally, his kecks becoming uncomfortably cramped in the crotch.

The sarcasm rang clear in her answer. “Things are not always what they seem, Mr. Greymont. Remember that.”

“Now that sounds downright ominous, Miss Georgina.”

“It does, I know. You are right, sir. But still, it would be prudent to tread carefully, for your own sake.”