Page 54 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke (The Unwanted Sisters #3)
There was something in that look—quiet, irresistible—that pulled at him. Lysander leaned in slowly, drawn by a force he barely understood, the warmth of her breath mingling with the chill of the water still clinging to them both.
“Georgina!”
Lysander jerked back.
“Georgina!”
Lysander looked up to see several figures emerging from the bushes: An older man leading, a younger, well-dressed lord close behind, then three women and three other men.
A small crowd began to gather around the lake, reminiscent of the earlier quarrel between the two lords.
He took in the scene carefully, noting the tight jaw and hard glare on the young lord’s face. This wasn’t the calm before trouble; it was trouble itself, already boiling over.
Lysander made no move to rise quickly, staying rooted on the bank, soaked and holding the motionless woman in his arms—Georgina, from what he could gather.
Her expression had changed, and the fear in her eyes was unmistakable.
Though he didn’t know the full story, the sight of a young woman being pursued by a group naturally put Lysander on her side.
“Lysander!” Thomas’s voice cut through the murmur as he pushed his way through the crowd and rested his hands on his knees, catching his breath.
A tense hush fell.
Without warning, the young lord—likely her groom, judging by his fine attire—strode forward and roughly grabbed Georgina’s upper arm, wrenching her toward him with a sneer.
Lysander was instantly on his feet, his body coiled and tense, anger flaring at the sight of a man treating a woman in that callous manner.
“Unhand her,” he instructed with measured calm.
The man ignored Lysander, turning his attention only to Georgina. “Look at the state of you!” he snarled. “Practically half-naked, your dress in tatters, clinging to another man. You’re a walking scandal!”
“You ought to watch your tongue around her,” Lysander warned, stepping toward him.
The three women were quickly beside Georgina, trying to shield her from the onlookers and perhaps also from the wrath of the man she was presumably to wed.
The older gentleman put himself between the young lord and Lysander.
“I-I can explain,” Georgina chattered. “I was only?—”
“Enough!” the young man boomed. “I’ve heard quite enough out of you today. If you say one more word?—”
“If you say one more word,” Lysander interrupted, “you’ll be dealing with me.”
The man became enraged by Lysander’s challenge and looked around quickly, unable to back down with so many people watching. He moved away from Georgina and turned toward Lysander.
“I know your type,” he snarled. “Did you really think you could have your way with her?”
Lysander’s eyes flicked between the young man and the soaked and bedraggled Georgina.
“If you hadn’t noticed, she fell into the lake.
I went in after her. Anyone with eyes would have seen that.
” He took a slow step closer, his voice low but firm.
“So, before you accuse her of scandal, you might want to consider the facts.”
“Now, you listen here.”
“No,” Lysander replied with a low hiss. “ You listen here. This lady fell into the lake. She would have drowned had I not been around.”
The young man’s face darkened with fury as he glared at Georgina’s torn dress. “With her dress ripped like that, do you expect me to believe this was some innocent rescue?”
Lysander’s eyes narrowed, “I had to rip her dress to free her from the rocks at the bottom of the lake.”
Whispers rippled through the crowd like a rising tide.
“His bride, stolen by the Duke of Windermere.”
“He’s been made a laughingstock.”
“Did you see her plunge into the lake? What a scandalous farce.”
The young lord rolled his neck, clearly irked by the murmurs.
“It’s true,” Georgina stepped forward, breaking free from the protective circle of ladies. “He only saved me from drowning, nothing more.”
The irate man spun on her, his eyes blazing with frustration as if she were an easy target. “So, you choose his side? You’d rather fall into his arms than accept the life I offered?”
“I’m only…” Georgina faltered as the crowd tittered, caught between disbelief and curiosity, trying to unravel the tangled tale.
Flushed with anger, the young man sneered at them all. “I am calling off the wedding! I always knew she was a lightskirt, a harlot. The moment I told her, she fled straight into the arms of another man. I’ve never felt more justified. Let her have her secret lover!”
“What? No!” Georgina gasped, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Hey!” One of the three men lurking at the edge stepped forward. “Watch your tongue, Abbington.”
“Oh, I have,” the groom shot back, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. “I could say far worse about her since I came to know her, but I am a gentleman, unlike some in this crowd.”
Georgina gasped. “How dare you!”
The groom turned with a mocking bow. “Good day to you, slovenly trollop.”
With a final glare, he stormed off, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.
Georgina finally found her voice and turned to the tittering, gossiping crowd, wagging her finger at them. “Oh, can’t you see reason? This man,” she gestured at Lysander, “meant to help me and nothing more. He’s saved me from drowning!”
The short speech did nothing to calm the crowd, and they only gossiped and giggled more.
“Sir,” she said to Lysander. “I must thank you for saving my life. Perhaps you are the only one who can see reason amongst all this.”
“I have a daughter who’s to be wed soon!” someone called from the crowd. “We’ll be steering clear of all lakes, that’s for certain!”
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Lysander ignored them, but Georgina’s temper flared. “Enough!” she snapped.
“You can almost see through your dress! Was that a part of the plan? Abandon one groom and snatch another?” another shouted.
Georgina wrapped her arms around herself, shrinking back as the soaked white dress clung to her, revealing more than she was comfortable with. One of the women with the same crimson flush on her face as Lady Georgina ran swiftly to her side and draped a shawl over her.
Lysander’s eyes swept over the crowd, their murmurs swirling like a gathering storm. The tension was thick; each word a spark threatening to ignite a wildfire of scandal. He saw the cruel calculations in their glances and knew that their gossip would spread faster than flames in dry brush.
The torn, soaked dress clinging to Georgina, the church steeple looming just beyond the park. It all painted a perfect picture, one that would shatter her reputation beyond repair.
His fists clenched at his sides. There was no stopping what was already in motion.
The ton ’s appetite for ruin was insatiable, and they had just handed them a feast. This wasn’t just a misstep; it was the beginning of an unraveling, and Lysander felt the weight of it settle like a noose tightening around them both.
“I know that look,” Thomas said, finally approaching his friend. “What are you planning?”
“Something foolish, no doubt.” Lysander turned and approached the older man. “Sir, are you the lady’s father?”
“Her uncle,” the man said.
“And is it true she was fleeing her wedding today?”
The man let out a long sigh. “Unfortunately, it is.”
Lysander nodded. “And she is in your charge?”
“Yes, I am her guardian,” he confirmed.
Lysander nodded again, the weight of his decision pressing on his chest.
“Sir, I would like to resolve this problem and ask for your niece’s hand in marriage.”