Page 2 of His Stolen Duchess (Stolen by the Duke #7)

The Earl was a handsome man, tall with blonde hair and a strong build. It was his character that had become ugly to Georgina, along with the smear of smoked fish at the corner of his mouth.

“Dottie. The maid at my uncle’s residence,” Georgina began.

The Earl held out his hands. “I’m unsure how I should respond. Should I name one of the servants in my household? I’m afraid I don’t know any of them by name.”

“You had your way with her, and now that she carries your child, you wish for her to disappear.”

“Heavens! I abhor this accusation, Lady Georgina. Is that why you came here on our wedding morning? To accuse me of… fornication with a servant? Do you really think so low of me?”

“All she wanted was some money to survive.”

“Pah! So does everyone else. What makes her so special?”

“You needn’t be so cruel.”

“I’m not cruel, my dear betrothed. Merely a realist. And I’m not in the habit of being blackmailed by harlots,” the Earl spat. “Nor will I have a bastard child on my estate.”

“So, you admit it.”

The Earl’s jaw clenched, and he bared his teeth for a moment.

“I’m speculating as to what she believes.

Whoever this maid is, she is nothing more than a charlatan.

Now, please cease this nonsense and leave my home before you are seen here.

We wouldn’t want whispers to spread before our wedding, would we? ”

“Look me in the eye and tell me the baby she’s carrying isn’t yours,” Georgina begged.

The Earl took a step toward her, and every instinct urged Georgina to retreat. His presence felt like a cold, menacing shadow creeping ever closer, but she stiffened her spine and forced herself to stand her ground, even as his looming figure sent a chill down her back.

“Go home and get ready for our wedding,” he intoned with an unsettling calmness. “When I see you again, I want to see you as my blushing bride. Not as a simpleton who wastes her time on rabble.”

She looked him straight in the eye, holding firm. “You’ve still offered no explanation to assuage my belief, fiancé.”

The Earl raised his hand. Every instinct screamed at her to recoil, but she held her ground, lifting her chin instead. If he meant to strike her, so be it. Let him prove the kind of man he truly was.

“Be very relieved that I’m not the type of man to strike a woman, Lady Georgina. You will watch your tongue, or I will not be so soft next time. Do you understand me?”

Georgina’s upper lip twitched as she answered. “I understand you completely, my lord.”

It was still early, but not so early that she might not be caught.

The sun had risen, but it was the height of summer, and it was well before most people were awake.

She only hoped that the thick curtains in her uncle’s chambers were doing their job as she rifled through the desk drawers in his study.

She was not the type of person to hunt secretly through someone else’s belongings, nor was she the type of person who stole money, but as the sun continued to rise, Georgina searched the study for her uncle’s stash of money.

A sound came suddenly from the other side of the closed door.

Georgina froze.

Someone was walking in the hallway, the sound of footsteps getting louder and louder.

Georgina held her breath. The footsteps passed, and the person continued on their way.

Georgina let out a sigh of relief, then clamped a hand over her mouth.

Once the sound of the footsteps had disappeared, she continued rustling through the drawers and found what she was looking for.

Lord Ridgewell had tried to be clever, hiding the money behind a false panel in his desk, but his efforts were amateurish at best. Georgina’s eyes caught the slight irregularity immediately, and with a gentle push, the panel gave way, revealing his secret stash.

She took twenty pounds and rolled the banknotes, shoving them into the hidden pocket of her dress, then quickly closed the panel and rearranged the desk, making it look as it had been before.

At the door, she listened intently for any sound of movement in the hallway, and when the coast was clear, she exited the room and quickly made her way downstairs.

Dottie was still in the kitchens, alone. She’d stopped crying, but her eyes were red and raw.

“Take this.” Georgina took her aside and squeezed the money into Dottie’s hand. “This should keep you afloat for a bit. Lord Abbington will never acknowledge the child, and I’m worried he might do something to you to silence you.”

“My lady?—”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Georgina soothed. “The child is yours, not his. I want you to give your child the best life possible. That is my final command to you. Do you hear me?”

Dottie lunged at Georgina and wrapped her arms around her, burying her face in Georgina’s neck. “Thank you, my lady. I can’t ever thank you enough for this.”

“Go on, go,” Georgina hissed. “I’ll deal with the housekeeper,” Georgina assured her. “Go on. And write me a letter as soon as you’re settled. Include your location. I’ll send you more money then.”

Dottie pulled back from the embrace. “My lady… You are an angel, sent straight from heaven. Thank you.”

Georgina’s chest swelled. At least one of them would have a better life today.

The horse-drawn carriage pulled up at the church right on time.

Georgina sat with her uncle, who looked so proud of her that it almost broke her heart in two. There was so much she wanted to tell him and talk to him about, but she knew he wouldn’t understand, so she bit her tongue as she so often had to do.

She wore an ivory silk dress, its empire waistline adorned with intricate embroidery along the bodice and sleeves. The fabric embraced her curves with effortless grace, yet despite its elegance, the dress did nothing to ease the unrest that weighed on her heart.

“The guests are waiting,” her uncle commented.

Georgina emerged from her daydream to see that the carriage door was open, and the footman was waiting for her to disembark.

She looked out the carriage door at the church.

No one stood outside. They were all inside waiting, including the Earl of Abbington.

She recalled the conversation they’d had only a few hours earlier. The way he had looked at her when he thought she came over to let him claim her before their wedding night. The way he looked at her when she confronted him about Dottie.

I can’t marry such a beast!

Georgina turned to her uncle. He smiled pleasantly at her, but she could see the flicker of impatience in his eyes. He was a patient man, but there were some circumstances in which his patience could only be stretched so far.

“Um… Uncle, I-I must… relieve myself.”

Uncle Francis blinked. It took him a few seconds to respond. “Now?”

“Well…” Georgina’s leg jiggled furiously as she spoke, “I need to go when I’m nervous. And it’s my wedding day, so I am feeling quite anxious at the moment.”

“Can’t you wait until after the ceremony?” he hissed.

“No. Not unless you wish me to soil this wedding dress.”

“Georgina!” he reprimanded her.

“This isn’t a joke, Uncle. I need this. Now,” she insisted, then looked around, spotting a large grove of bushes close to the church. She turned back to her uncle and pointed at them. “I’ll go in there. It won’t take a minute.”

“Are you out of your mind?” he asked through gritted teeth. “You want to relieve yourself in the bushes next to the church?”

“Well, would you prefer if we went back home instead?”

Her uncle grunted. “Just make it quick. And will you please not stain your dress? With leaves or dirt or… anything else .”

“Oh, come on, this is not the first time I’ve relieved myself beside a church,” she blurted out.

Uncle Francis growled, “ Georgina .”

“Now that was a joke, Uncle Francis. I thought it might lighten the mood.”

Francis closed his mouth, took a second, then spoke. “My mood will be considerably lightened once you are a married woman.”

For a moment, she glanced at her uncle, and a wave of guilt crashed into her. No matter how stern he was with her, she didn’t feel good about tricking him. He was still family, after all.

Perhaps if I told him about Dottie… about how Lord Abbington had treated her…

Once the thought entered her mind, every rational part of her disagreed.

Uncle Francis wasn’t a bad man, but he was a man of the ton ; he wanted his family to maintain appearances, to be respectable.

In the past, when Georgina’s sisters—Juliana and Emily in particular—did not fit that standard, he retaliated vehemently.

She could not tell him the truth. Even if she did, he’d drag her to the aisle and tell her to tolerate her husband’s ‘missteps’.

Georgina took a long breath, steeled herself, and hopped from the carriage.

She cast a quick glance at the church entrance, barely catching the flowery yet tasteful decorations her sisters had helped with choosing, and walked spryly toward the bushes.

Once she had rounded them safely, she peered furtively through the first set of branches at the waiting carriage.

Uncle Francis sat in the back of the carriage, shaking his head. The driver looked at the horses, and the footman stood by the door, looking into the carriage.

If her mother were alive and discovered what she was about to do, she’d certainly die of a heart attack. As she had in reality.

“I’m sorry, Uncle,” she whispered. “I have to do this.”

Georgina pulled up the skirts of her dress, swiftly ran toward the back of the church, and scurried out the back exit, heading back to the Ridgewell townhouse.

She needed to get back there and gather her things before anyone else caught up.

Then, she would run away and never come back.