Prologue
Lady Georgiana Halley burst through the drawing room
doors. “Did you hear what that man did this time?”
Lucinda Barrett and Evelyn Ruddick exchanged
glances that Georgiana could have read from a mile away.
Of course they knew precisely whom she was discussing. How
could they not, when he was the worst man in England?
“What now?” Lucinda asked, putting down the
cards she’d been shuffling.
Shaking raindrops from the hem of her gown,
Georgiana plunked herself into the third chair at the
gaming table. “Elinor Blythem and her maid got caught in
the rain this morning. They were walking home when that
man drove by in his coach at full tilt and sent a cascade
of street water straight at them.” She pulled off her
gloves and slapped them onto the table. “It’s fortunate
the rain had just begun, or he might have drowned her!”
“He didn’t even stop?” Evelyn poured her a hot
cup of tea.
“And get wet himself? Heavens, no.” Georgiana
dropped a lump of sugar into
the tea and stirred vigorously. Men were so
maddening! “If the morning had been dry, he would have
stopped to let Elinor and her maid ride with him, but for
most men, ‘nobility’ is not a state of mind or of station.
It is a state of comfort.”
“A state of monetary comfort,” Lucinda
amended. “Don’t spill.”
Evie refilled her own cup. “While you two are
entirely too cynical, I have to agree that society seems to
forgive arrogance when a gentleman has money and power. In
the days of King Arthur, inspiring a woman’s admiration was
at least as important as the ability to slay a dragon.”
In Miss Ruddick’s optimistic imagination,
nearly everything tied into tales of chivalry – but this
time she had a point. “Yes, exactly,” Georgiana
said. “When did the dragons become more important than the
maidens?”
“Dragons guard treasure,” Lucinda said, jumping
on the analogy, “which is why females with large dowries
can rate almost as highly as dragons.”
“It should be we who are the treasures, dowries
or not,” Georgiana insisted. “I think the difficulty is
that we’re more complicated than wagering or horse races.
Understanding a female is utterly beyond the capacity of
most men.”
Lucinda bit into a chocolate tea cake. “I
agree. It certainly takes more than a sword swinging in my
direction to get my attention.” She chuckled.
“Lucinda!” Blushing bright red, Evie fanned
her face. “For heaven’s sake!”
Georgiana sat forward. “No. Luce is right. A
gentleman can’t win a female’s heart the same way he wins
a . . . a boat race on the Thames. They need to know there
are different rules involved. For instance, I wouldn’t
want anything to do with a gentleman who makes a habit of
breaking ladies’ hearts, no matter how handsome he was, or
how much wealth and power he had.”
“And a gentleman should realize that a lady has
a mind of her own, for goodness’ sake.” Evelyn set down
her teacup with a clatter as an exclamation point.
Lucinda stood and went to the desk at the other
end of the room. “We should write these down,” she said,
pulling several sheets of paper from a drawer and returning
to distribute them. “The three of us wield a great deal of
influence, particularly with the so-called gentlemen to
whom these rules would apply.”
“We would be doing other ladies a service,”
Georgiana said, her anger ebbing as the plan began to take
shape.
“But a list won’t do anything for anyone but
ourselves.” Evelyn took the pencil Lucinda handed
her. “If that.”
“Oh, yes, it will – when we put our rules into
practice,” Georgiana countered. “I propose that we each
choose some man and teach him what he needs to know in
order properly to impress a lady.”
“Yes, by God.” Lucinda thumped her hand on the
table in agreement.
As she began writing, Georgiana chuckled
darkly. “We could get our rules published. ‘Lessons in
Love,’ by Three Ladies of Distinction.”
Georgiana’s List
Never break a lady’s heart
Always tell the truth, no matter what you think a lady
wants to heart
Never make a wager over a lady’s affections
Flowers are nice; but make sure they’re the lady’s favorite
kind. Lilies are especially lovely.
Chapter One
By the pricking of my
thumbs,
Something wicked this
way comes.
Macbeth, Act IV, Scene i
Lady Georgiana Halley watched Dare enter the ballroom and
wondered why the soles of his boots didn’t smoke, he was so
well-traveled on the path to Hell. The rest of him
certainly smoldered, dark and devilishly seductive, as he
made his way toward the gaming rooms. He didn’t even
notice when Elinor Blythem turned her back on him.
“I really do hate that man,” she murmured.
“Beg pardon?” Lord Luxley loped by her, the
country dance sending him spinning and leaping in a circle
with her at the center.
“Nothing, my lord. I’m only thinking aloud.”
“Well, share your thoughts with me, Lady
Georgiana.” He touched her hand, turned, and vanished for
a moment behind Miss Partrey as they wound through the line
again. “Nothing pleases me so much as the sound of your
voice.”
Except, perhaps, for the gold clinking in my
purse. Georgiana sighed. She was becoming far too
jaded. “You are too kind, my lord.”
“That is an impossibility where you are
concerned.”
They circled around again, and Georgiana
scowled at Dare’s broad back as the scoundrel strolled out
of sight, probably to go smoke a cheroot and drink with his
blackguard friends. The evening had been so pleasant
before Dare had intruded. Her aunt was hosting the soiree,
so she couldn’t imagine that anyone had invited him.
Her dance partner joined her again, and she
favored the handsome, golden-haired baron with a determined
smile. She would just have to put that devil Dare out of
her thoughts. “You are energetic tonight, Lord Luxley.”
“You inspire me,” he said, sounding winded.
The dance came to a close. While the baron dug
in his waistcoat for a handkerchief, Georgiana caught sight
of Lucinda Barrett and Evelyn Ruddick, standing with their
heads together at the refreshment table. “Thank you, my
lord,” she said to her partner, curtsying before he could
offer to take her on a stroll around the room. “You’ve
exhausted me beyond recall. If you’ll excuse me?”
“Oh. I – of course, my lady.”
“Luxley?” Lucinda exclaimed from behind her
ivory-ribbed fan as Georgiana joined them. “How did that
happen?”
Georgiana gave in to a genuine smile. “He
wanted to recite the poem he’d written in my honor, and the
only way to stop him after the first stanza was to agree to
a dance.”
“He wrote you a poem?” Evelyn looped her hand
around Georgiana’s arm and led the way to the chairs lining
one side of the room.
“He did.” Grateful to see Luxley select one
of the debutantes as his next victim, Georgiana accepted a
glass of Madeira from one of the footman. After three
hours of quadrilles, waltzes, and country dances, her feet
ached. “And you know what rhymes with Georgiana, don’t
you?”
Evelyn wrinkled her brow, her gray eyes
twinkling. “No, what?”
“Nothing. He just put ‘iana’ after every
ending word. In iambic trimeter, yet. ‘Oh, Georgiana,
your beauty is my sunlightiana, your hair is finer than
goldiana, your–‘”
Lucinda made a choking sound. “Dear Lord, stop
that at once. Georgie, you have the most astounding
ability to make gentlemen do and say the most ridiculous
things.”
Georgiana shook her head, pushing a goldiana curl out of
her eyes as it came loose from one of its ivory clips. “My
money has that ability. Not me.”
“You shouldn’t be so cynical. After all, he
did go to the effort of writing you a poem, awful or not,”
Evelyn said.
“Yes, you’re right. It’s very sad that I’ve
become so jaded at a mere four-and-twenty, isn’t it?”
“Are you going to choose Luxley for your
lesson?” Evelyn asked. “It seems to me, he could stand to
learn a few things – namely about how dim women aren’t.”
Taking a sip of sweet Madeira, Georgiana
smiled. “To be honest, I’m not sure he’d be worth the
effort. In fact--” A movement by the stairs caught her
attention, and Dare reentered the ballroom, a woman on his
arm. Not just any woman, she noted with a slight scowl:
Amelia Johns.
“In fact what?” Lucinda followed her
gaze. “Oh, dear. Who invited Dare?”
“Not me; that’s for certain.” Miss Johns
couldn’t be above eighteen years old – a good twelve years
younger than Dare. In years of sin, though, he surpassed
her by centuries. Georgiana had heard rumors that the
viscount was courting someone, and with her family’s money
and her pert brunette innocence, Amelia was no doubt the
target, the poor thing.
Dare took both of Amelia's hands in his, and
Georgiana gritted her teeth. The viscount said something
brief and, with a jaunty grin, released the girl and
strolled away. Amelia's face flushed, then paled, and she
hurried from the room.
Well, that blasted well made one thing clear.
Georgiana stood, facing her friends again. “No, not
Luxley,” she stated, surprised at her calm
determination. “I have a different student in mind – one
in serious need of a good lesson.”
Evie’s eyes widened. “You’re not thinking
about Lord Dare, are you? You hate like him. You barely
speak to him.”
Across the room Dare's deep laugh sounded, and
Georgiana’s blood heated to near boiling. Obviously he
didn't care a fig that he'd wounded a young girl's
feelings -- or worse, broken another heart. Oh, yes, he
badly needed a lesson. He was the reason they’d made the
lists in the first place. And she knew the exact lesson
she intended to teach him. In fact, she could think of no
one better qualified to deliver it than she. “Yes, Dare.
And, obviously, I'll have to break his heart to do it,
though I'm not certain he even has one. But--“
”Shh,” Evelyn hissed, making a cutting gesture
with her hands.
“Who has one what?”
Her spine stiffening at the low drawl,
Georgiana turned around. “I wasn't talking to you, my
lord.”
Tristan Carroway, Viscount Dare, looked down at
her, his light blue eyes amused. He couldn't have a heart,
if he was able to smile that charming, sensuous smile right
after reducing another woman to tears and flight.
“And here I was,” he said, “only approaching to
tell you how remarkably lovely you look this evening, Lady
Georgiana.”
She smiled, seething inside. Now he was
complimenting her, while poor Amelia was without a doubt in
some dark corner, weeping. “I did choose this ensemble
with you in mind, my lord,” she said, smoothing her silk
burgundy skirt. “Do you truly like it?”
The viscount was no fool, and though his
expression didn't change, he took a half step back. She
hadn't brought her fan along tonight, though Lucinda’s was
in easy reach if she changed her mind about cracking him
across the knuckles.
“I do, my lady.” His sweeping glance took her
in from head to toe, leaving her with the unsettling
sensation that he knew whether her shift was silk or
cotton.
“Then this is the one I'll wear to your
funeral,” she said with a sweet smile.
“Georgie,” Lucinda murmured, taking her arm.
Dare lifted an eyebrow. “Who says you'll be
invited?” With a devilish grin, he turned on his
heel. “Good evening, ladies.”
Oh, did he ever need to be taught a
lesson! “How are your aunts?” Georgiana asked his
backside.
He stopped and, with a slight hesitation
turned, around. “My aunts?”
“Yes. I don't see them this evening. How are
they?”
“Aunt Edwina is quite well,” he said, his
expression wary. “Aunt Milly is recovering, though not as
quickly as she would like. Why?”
Ha. She had no intention of explaining the
reason behind her question. Let him wonder until she had
the details of her plan figured out. “No reason. Please
give them my compliments.”
“I will. Ladies.”
“Lord Dare.”
As soon as he was out of sight, Lucinda
released Georgiana's arm. “So that's how you make a
gentleman fall in love with you. I'd wondered what I'd
been doing wrong.”
“Oh, hush. I can't simply fall into his arms.
He would know something was afoot.”
“How are you going to accomplish it, then?”
Even the usually optimistic Evelyn was skeptical.
“Before I do anything else, I need to speak
with someone. I'll tell you what I can tomorrow.”
That said, Georgiana went in search of Amelia
Johns. Dare had vanished, but she kept an eye out for his
tall form anyway. One of his more annoying traits was that
one never knew when or where he might turn up.
Drat. That reminded her that she’d forgotten to ask him
whether he’d been invited this evening or had bullied his
way into her aunt’s Hawthorne House party.
A thorough search revealed no sign of the
pretty young debutante, and with a preoccupied frown
Georgiana went to find her aunt and resume her hostess
duties. Being Aunt Frederica’s live-in companion came with
both certain privileges and responsibilities, and spending
the evening being charming when she would rather have gone
upstairs to plot was one of the latter.
Making Tristan Carroway fall in love with her
was risky for more than one reason, but it was a lesson he
badly needed to learn. He'd toyed with one heart too many,
and she would make certain he never did it again. Ever.