“Thank you. Oh good! Juliet’s dancing with Ponsonby. He’s third in line to inherit from the Duke of Milford Haven, you know.”

Georgie left her to it. When Pieter delivered her home, she went straight up to her room and paced nervously, pressing her hands over the fluttering in her belly. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and grimaced; she looked wild, her cheeks a hectic red, her eyes bright and glistening.

What was she doing? Sleeping with Wylde would undoubtedly change everything between them. It would certainly complicate matters. The thought of making love to him, of giving herself to him fully, was something she both anticipated and dreaded. His very presence made her breathless; he produced a sensation in the region of her stomach that felt like she was taking part in some precarious high-wire balancing act, like that of Madame Saqui at Vauxhall. Like terror, like exhilaration.

Georgie frowned. Affairs of the heart were far more complex than business deals. Would he lose interest in her once he’d had her? She’d heard that was true with many men. But all adventures involved an element of risk, did they not? What would have happened if Columbus had stayed in Spain, or Marco Polo had never ventured from Italy, too afraid of the unknown to risk setting sail? She was no coward. She wouldn’t back out now. This would be an adventure she chose for herself.

Mother and Juliet returned just after eleven, but neither came in to check on her, and by the time she slipped down to the kitchen and out the back door, the house was quiet and still. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Pieter’s large frame loomed out of the stables.

“And where do you think you’re off to, missy?”

Georgie clapped her hand over her heart. “Pieter! You scared me half to death!”

“Thought you were feeling under the weather?”

Her cheeks heated as she realized there was no explanation she could give except the shameful truth. She set her chin. “If you must know, I’m going to meet Benedict Wylde.”

She could see Pieter’s scowl, even in the dim light.

“Well, I know you ain’t eloping,” he said sarcastically. “Because you’ve already married the cove. So what’s to do?”

Georgie squirmed. Really, this was too humiliating. Pieter was like a father to her. In his eyes, she was still an innocent, headstrong little girl. To confess, quite baldly, why she was going to meet Benedict made her cringe. She squared her shoulders. “The man is my husband. And I have decided to visit him.”