"I won't discuss it with you, and stop making snide comments."

"I just caught you naked with the man who has destroyed our family. Pardon me if I'm a tad out of sorts."

"I did what you asked of me! I did what you demanded."

"Yes, you did." Augusta slapped a palm on the table. "Now tell me what promises you received. Will he give you money? A house? Clothes? Will we be allowed to remain at Kirkwood?"

"I didn't talk to him about any of those issues."

"You're joking."

"No. He was tired. He said we'd confer over the details in the morning."

"You believed him?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I have?"

"Oh, my Lord. You have to be the stupidest young lady in the kingdom."

"He's not the monster people presume him to be. He's kind and generous. It will be all right."

"How will it be all right if you've wrangled no concessions?"

Georgina smiled an exasperating smile. "I didn't need concessions, because I attained the best conclusion of all."

"What the devil-in your distorted view-is the best conclusion?"

"He proposed."

"Proposed what?"

"Marriage. He asked me to marry him, and I agreed."

"He asked you? He proposed?"

"Yes." Georgina was perplexed. "Why are you staring at me like that? It's the perfect solution. Aren't you glad?"

"I'm positively delirious, but humor me for a moment, would you?"

"Of course."

"How was the conversation begun? Were you chatting and he suddenly popped the question? Was he down on his knee and clasping your hand? What?"

"I simply told him I couldn't proceed unless he wed me."

"Ah...I see."

"What do you see?"

"You brought up the idea of matrimony."

"Yes."

"He insisted he'd wed you after you spread your legs for him."

Georgina colored again, her embarrassment fierce. "We'll have the vicar call the banns on Sunday. We'll hold the ceremony next month."

"Really?"

"Yes, really, Augusta. Why are you being so horrid? If I'm his bride, I'll be able to help you and Sophia. I have no doubt of it."

"There's just one small problem, Georgina."

"What is it?"

"Mr. Drummond has proposed to Portia."

"What? No, that can't be true."

"Trust me, it is. She came over yesterday to seek my advice as to whether she should accept."

Georgina shook her head. "She had to have misunderstood."

"He tendered financial records to her father."

"He what?"

"He's provided her father with hard numbers so they can see how rich he is."

Georgina's expression was stony. "You're lying. You have to be."

"I'm not lying, Georgina. Get up in the morning and ride over to visit Portia. You can ask her yourself. You don't have to take my word for it."

"You're trying to hurt me, to scare me."

"I'm not! I swear! I'm merely trying to figure out what happened in that bedchamber, because it isn't what you suppose."

Reality was gradually sinking in, and Georgina's expression appeared so wounded that Augusta almost felt sorry for her-almost-but she'd never liked Georgina and she wasn't about to start oozing empathy.

"But...but..." Georgina stammered, "if he's betrothed to Portia, where does that leave me?"

"I believe it leaves you tricked and ruined and played for a fool. You better pray that a babe didn't catch or you'll be in a predicament beyond your imagining."

Georgina rubbed her fingers over her abdomen. "I could be with child?"

"Yes, so I suggest you have a long, frank talk with Mr. Drummond."

"What if he...denies me?"

"Then you've dug a deep hole for yourself, haven't you?"

"Will you speak to him for me?"

"I wouldn't lower myself."

Georgina pondered her dilemma, then muttered, "He wouldn't mistreat me. He said we'd call the banns. I refuse to consider he wasn't serious."

"I hate to nag, Georgina, but it obviously hasn't occurred to you."

"What hasn't?"

"A cad will promise anything to crawl under a woman's skirt. Don't you know that? I've lectured you about men and their motives your whole life."

"You think he lied to me?"

"I'm sure of it, and I'm sick of you. Get out of my sight." Georgina didn't move, and August shouted, "Go, Georgina! Now! Go away!"

Georgina slid off her chair and scooted out, and Augusta listened as she raced up the stairs.

"Stupid girl," she chided to the empty space. "Stupid, stupid girl."

Georgina huddled in the corner of the estate agent's office. She was trying to be invisible, hiding where she wouldn't be found.

It was after nine in the morning already, and she was floating in a peculiar cloud of lethargy. After her repugnant meeting with Augusta, she hadn't slept a wink. She'd been too distressed. Once dawn had arrived, she'd crept over to the one place at Kirkwood where she'd ever felt like she mattered. It had been a coward's choice though.

She glanced around, struggling to remember the years she'd worked in the small room. She'd been good at her job, happy at her job. She liked to be useful, and it had been exciting to be given so much responsibility.

Who was she now? What was she now?

She should have picked another course of action rather than hiding, but she wasn't a fighter and couldn't bear to have the conversation that needed to be had. She should have stormed up to the master suite, should have barged in and demanded answers from Damian, but she was terrified of what those answers might be.

What if he told her Augusta was correct, that he was betrothed to Portia? Or what if he said he wasn't, but Georgina later discovered he was lying? The entire situation was fraught with danger.

She was extremely bewildered and couldn't figure out how to proceed. She was supposed to have joined him for breakfast, but she hadn't. She was too overwhelmed.

What sort of man behaved so despicably? How could he be so cruel? He understood how lonely she was, how much she'd wanted someone to care. How could he play on her sympathies, blithely ruin her, and break her heart?

Was he a monster after all?

She wished she was a powerful, adamant person. She wished she knew how to confront all the people who were killing her with their disregard. She'd like to seek out Portia and inform her that Damian belonged to her and Portia couldn't have him.

She'd like to tell Augusta how much she'd never liked her, how unfair and ghastly she'd always been. Most of all, she'd like to march up to Damian and ask, Why? Why did you do this to me?

But instead, she was cowering in the corner, yearning to float up into the sky and drift away.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, and she braced as Damian entered. He didn't note her lurking, but went to the window to stare out at the horses grazing in the meadow.

She studied him, curious that he could seem like such a stranger. During a few glorious encounters, she'd felt so connected to him, but now she was incredibly worried about the future. Would he hope to wed Portia, but carry on an affair with Georgina behind Portia's back? Could he actually assume Georgina would consent to such a shameful arrangement?

In her bedchamber, her portmanteau was packed. She had to return to the cottage, retrieve it, and depart, but if she tried to stand she didn't think her legs would support her. Where was she to go anyway?

Finally he spun and saw her, and he smiled as if he was thrilled.

"There you are, sleepyhead," he said. "I've stopped by the dining room five times already to learn if you'd arrived. I was about to come over and wake you."

"Hello," was all she could manage in reply.

"What's wrong? You look upset."

"I am."

He crossed over to her, and before she grasped what he intended, he dipped down and kissed her. She was so surprised that she didn't try to prevent it.

"You can't be despondent," he said.

"Why can't I?"

"This is the best day ever." He grabbed a chair and pulled it over to sit directly in front of her, their knees touching. "What is it? Is it Augusta? Was she horrid to you? I shouldn't have left you there with her. I should have made you leave with me."

"I owed her an explanation."

"Was she awful to you?"

"She was."

"Tell me you held your own against her though. Tell me you gave as good as you got."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course." He grinned as if life was a big joke. "I can't guarantee I'll be truthful though. I am a renowned liar after all, but you can certainly ask. Let's see what sort of response you can drag out of me."

She took a deep breath, feeling as if she was running toward a cliff and about to jump off. "Are you engaged to marry Portia Smithwaite?"

He frowned. "Engaged to Miss Smithwaite? Why would you be wondering about that?"

"Are you?"

He glanced away. "No."

"No, as in not yet? Are you about to be?"

He pushed back his chair and seated himself behind the desk so there was a bit of distance between them.

"You're in such a dither," he said. "Why? Has Augusta been filling your head with nonsense?"

"Is it nonsense? I notice you haven't given me a straight answer."

He shrugged. "I told you I wasn't."