“Nothing specific,” Hart told him. “Take the rest of the details from the settlements we agreed on for Lady Rose. Have a copy of the final document sent to me and I’ll have my lawyer look it over.”

“In that case . . .” Lady Georgiana rose to leave.

“Just one last thing,” Hart said.

She paused and turned toward him with narrowed eyes.

“You do intend to go through with this wedding, don’t you, Lady Georgiana?”

Her gray eyes turned to chips of ice. Her hands knotted into fists, crumpling her list in one hand. “I gave you my word, didn’t I?” Without waiting for his response, she swept from the room.

Ashendon blotted the document he’d made his notes on. “Doesn’t do to challenge George on her word of honor, you know. As you can see, she’s a mite touchy about it.”

Hart snorted. “I’ve never met a woman yet who has any real idea of honor—it’s all self-interest with them.”

“Then your life is about to change.” Ashendon leaned back in his chair, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I foresee interesting times ahead for you, Everingham. Very interesting times.”

Chapter Eleven

There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.

—JANE AUSTEN, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

After the settlements had been agreed on and signed by both parties, the next item to be negotiated was the date of the wedding. The duke had informed Cal he wanted it to be as soon as possible. But it was up to George and her family to make the final choice.

George wasn’t sure what she wanted—in one way she’d be happy to wait for a year, but then there were those feelings, the hot, sweaty, restless, hungry-but-not-for-food feelings where she woke, enmeshed in lurid dreams of being naked in bed with the duke. A year of that would drive her mad—if indeed they lasted that long. But there was no way of telling.

She wanted them to be over and done with. Once the duke had bedded her, she was sure the disturbing sensations would go away, and she’d be able to sleep peacefully in her bed once more.

In the end they agreed on a date just over three weeks away, which gave time for the banns to be called in church. Aunt Agatha had given a flat veto to the duke’s plan for a special license. “Bad enough the scandal that forced this marriage in the first place,” she said. “If you rush the business through, you know what people will think. As it is, they will be counting back from the date your first child is born.”

Her first child? George couldn’t imagine it. She glanced across at Emm, huge now with the imminent birth of her baby. How must that feel?