The Undoing of a Libertine (Somerset Historicals 2)

The distraction was the lovely woman across the room from him, of course. Jeremy had been watching her for the past half hour. So he had seen how her father seemed oblivious to the leering of that lewd bastard, Pellton.

Just this morning Jeremy had been witness to more bad behavior on Pellton’s part. As he had left his own room, he saw a young maid exit Pellton’s, her rumpled clothing askew, furtive glances all around, and a hand to her hair to smooth it. All testaments to what Pellton had been doing with her in the night. In Jeremy’s opinion, such behavior was the lowest of the low. Using servant girls, particularly in the confines of a host’s home, simply wasn’t done. And if he considered that Pellton was trying to woo the daughter of said host in addition to his infidelities, there seemed no end to the man’s dreadful manners.

Pellton was forever begging Georgina for strolls in the garden and for games of cards. Jeremy had done his best to rescue her from those incursions because whenever Pellton got near her, Jeremy felt his ire blossom. A visit to the library had been especially timely only yesterday. He’d gone in there to find something to read, which was unusual in itself…

* * * *

Jeremy knew he needed something to do in his room at night besides think about what he’d like to be doing with Georgina between the bed linens.

He also knew Oakfield’s library was well appointed. Jeremy felt confident he’d be able to find something of interest in its vast collection, but when he stepped in, he got the surprise of an interest very different from that of a good book—the sight of Georgina reading. Her back faced him as she reclined on a lounge chair with one leg draped over the chair arm. Her pink slipper pointed down to the floor, exposing a lovely stockinged ankle and underskirts aplenty.

“Thank you, Fannie, you may set it on the table,” she said without looking up from her book.

“I’ve been called many things over the years, but that name, never,” he answered, unable to refrain from teasing.

Georgina peered around the side of the chair and, pulled her leg off its perch so fast the book slid from her lap and dropped with a thud. “Mr. Greymont! I do beg your pardon. I—I believed you to be the maid with my tea.” She bent down to retrieve her book off the floor.

“Obviously.” He smiled at her. “No apologies necessary, Miss Georgina. And I am sorry I don’t have any tea to bring to you.” He held up his empty hands. “I’ve just come to find a book.”

“Obviously.” She smiled back, a hint of mischievousness lighting up her face.

Teasing him again. It was so easy with her. Being around her, talking, sharing a meal, taking the air, anything, everything was just so damn easy with her. Effortless. He had to force himself to say something. Otherwise he’d just keep standing here and staring, like the besotted idiot he was.

“You looked very captivated by your tome. Please continue on, Miss Georgina, and don’t let me disturb you. I’m just going to search the shelves back there.” He indicated with his thumb.

“Very well, Mr. Greymont.” She gave a serene nod and turned back to reading her book. This time, her leg kept primly on the seat of her chair, unfortunately for him.

Jeremy wandered over between two shelves and began his search for something to read. He heard the maid come in with Georgina’s expected tea a few minutes later, and he heard when she closed the door behind her when she left.

He pulled down a thick volume and opened it. The Last of the Mohicans: A Narrative of 1757, by the American writer, James Fennimore Cooper. Jeremy had heard about this novel. He checked the date on the title page. The story had caused quite a stir in Europe since its publication in ’twenty-six. He k

new the setting for the story took place during the Seven Years’ War, when France and England battled for control of the colonies in America and where the French had called upon the native tribes to fight against the British. The protagonist viewpoint was that of its Indian hero, and it was this facet of the novel that caused such a rumbling among those obsessed with the order of the classes. Jeremy flipped through pages until he came to an illustration that looked wildly interesting. It showed a man and a woman in the background watching in horror as an Indian warrior wrestled with a great bear standing on its hind legs. Right down his alley. His unconventional mind was piqued by anything radical. Jeremy knew this book would suit him perfectly.

His choice made, he tucked it under his arm and made ready to leave when he heard the door open again.

“Aha. I’ve been searching everywhere for you, my dear. It was only when I spied the maid leaving did I think you might be in here.”

The voice had a slithery cant to it, and Jeremy knew who it belonged to the second he heard it. Pellton. The vulture.

“What are you reading, dear Georgina?” Pellton demanded.

“Poems. I am reading poetry, my lord,” Georgina answered back in a stiff voice.

Jeremy stayed behind the shelf, out of sight, and listened. He heard Pellton set himself down on something and say, “Read me one of the poems out of your book. I wish to hear your voice, Georgina darling.”

“Sir, you should not speak to me in ways so familiar.”

“But why shouldn’t I speak familiarly to you? I intend to marry you, and the sooner you accept the fact, the better.”

“No, sir. I have given you my answer, and it is an emphatic—”

“Your refusal does not concern me overmuch.” Pellton spoke right over her words. “I know that in time we will come to an understanding. You see, my darling Georgina, you have no other suitors, no prospects other than me. And your father wants you to marry me, doesn’t he?”

“No!”

“Yes, he does. In fact, he appears quite eager to get you off his hands. I know I’m not mistaking his intent regarding you. I only wish your dear mother were here to see you become my bride.”

“Do not speak of her! Lord Pellton, if my mother were alive today, I would not be in the sorry position I am in at present. She would never make me marry against my will, no matter the circumstances.” Georgina sounded angry now.