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Well, she had no place to go. No place to stay.

Accept Felicity’s offer. At least until you decide what kind of future a woman like you has.

After the rumors—which were completely true—finished with her, she suspected there’d be limited options. This was twice now she’d exchanged her reputation for a bit of sexual pleasure. There were words for women like her, and Father had used them.

A bit? Be truthful. What you felt with Demon was more than a bit.

Well, yes.

She sighed. “Thank you, Felicity. I am ashamed to say I would be grateful to accept your kind offer.”

“Oh, please do not be ashamed,” her friend was quick to reply, and it was only then that Georgia noticed Felicity’s hands were shaking. “I am delighted by yer company. Grateful, really.”

She’d said that before, hadn’t she? Georgia cocked her head and for the first time in the last few days, really studied her friend. Felicity wasn’t one to stand on social propriety, but she was truly nervous—almost frightened.

“Felicity? Are you well?” Her friend didn’t meet her eyes. “Only, I have noticed your accent is coming and going.”

The woman’s delightful, albeit faint, Scottish brogue had a bothersome tendency of reminding Georgia of Demon. It wasn’t often obvious, but this afternoon…

Finally Felicity looked up, and Georgia could see her friend’s eyes were red-rimmed. Goodness, had she really been so self-consumed she hadn’t noticed her friend’s distress?

“Felicity?”

The cat rolled over, and the other woman seemed pleased by the distraction. “I am to have a guest. Very soon,” she blurted, as she rubbed the feline’s tummy in an absent-minded move certain to cost any other human a few inches of skin and some blood. “Today. Any moment.”

Nervous didn’t come close to describing the woman’s disposition, and Georgia felt horrible for missing the cues.

“Any moment?”

Felicity nodded vigorously without looking up from the cat. “His train arrived an hour ago. I expect his escort will deliver him to me—um. Soon. Ish.”

Soonish?

Well, at least Felicity knew how to read a train schedule, unlike Demon’s mother.

Better not to think of the woman who was likely to even now be gossiping with her friends about Georgia’s scandalous behavior with her son.

She forced a smile and set about righting the embroidery basket. “Well, I should be happy to retire to the lovely guest room you have assigned me. I do not want to come between you and your guest.”

“No,” Felicity said in a rush. When Georgia looked up, her friend was looking downright panicked. “No,” she repeated again, softer. “I—I think I would appreciate having ye here, if ye do not mind.”

Ah. Georgia’s shoulders relaxed as she studied her friend. “Of course,” she assured quietly, even as she stood to move to Felicity’s side. “Anything I can do, my dear. Who is this mysterious guest of yours?”

The look in Felicity eyes was bordering on panic as she tipped her head back to meet Georgia’s gaze.

“My—my son.”

Georgia gaped, and was saved from having to come up with a suitably polite response—because she suspected What? WHAT? I require details, woman! wasn’t going to work—by the butler’s interruption.

“Madam, Viscount Thornebury and his guest, per your request. This way, gentlemen. Miss Felicity Montrose.”

It was proper. It was polite. It was ridiculous.

With a gasp, Felicity shot upright and whirled about. The cat made a disgruntled sound as she clutched the animal to her chest. Georgia, recognizing Thorne’s name, stepped up beside her friend—but before she could greet Demon’s old partner, she recognized the young man by his side.

“Bull!” she cried in delight, then remembered her manners. “And Thorne. Your lordship, I mean. How…how wonderful to see you both.”

Thorne, as charming as she remembered him, made a show of reaching for her hand and bowing over it. Bull, however…