He sent her a dreamy smile, took one last puff of the pipe, then set it aside and extinguished the little lamp. “Somewhere we can be completely private.” The way his gaze roamed over her body made her stomach curdle. “Always thought you were pretty,” he murmured. “Not as sweet as Juliet, of course, but I like your haughty manner. More of a challenge.” His lip curled, as if he’d been reminded of something unpleasant. “Wylde accepted that challenge, didn’t he, eh? You’re a real woman now. Know what it’s like to have a man between your legs.” He licked his lips. “You’ll find out again soon enough.”

She quelled a whole-body shudder.

“You think he’s shagging you because he wants you?” Josiah continued, his voice soft. “The whole ton knows he needs cash. His estates are mortgaged to the hilt. His brother’s scarcely managed to keep things afloat since their father cocked up his toes and left them neck-deep in debt.”

He smiled at her furious expression. “Ah yes, I’ve done some digging on your Mr. Wylde. He’s tried everything to make a shilling, you know. Cards. Horse races. Sharp-shooting contests. Those didn’t last long—he was too good. Nobody’s stupid enough to accept his challenge now.” He shook his head and shot her a sorrowful look of mock-sympathy. “His other women have all been beautiful. Experienced. Sophisticated. Why’d he want a fumble with a virgin, eh?”

“You don’t know anything about it,” Georgie snapped, stung to respond. “He knows he can’t touch my money. He signed the contract I had drawn up. He—”

Josiah scoffed. “He’s playing you like a fiddle. Just biding his time, waiting for you to fall in love with him, so you’ll change your mind and insist he has access to it all.”

Her voice shook with tightly controlled rage. “That’s not true!”

But Josiah’s words were like poison; he voiced every negative thought she’d ever had about her interactions with Benedict, all her insecurities. Was he only taking advantage of what she offered so willingly? Was he laughing at her eagerness? Her inexperience? Did he pity her? That would be unbearable.

She leaned her aching forehead against the cool glass pane of the window, even though it rattled horribly, and stared at the drab landscape flying past. It looked as though they were on the outskirts of London, but she had no idea where.

Josiah was wrong. Benedict wasn’t conning her. There was more between them than lust. They were friends. They enjoyed each other’s company, made each other laugh. And it went deeper than a shared sense of humor; they both believed in protecting family, no matter what. She would do anything for her mother, sister, Pieter. He would do anything for his brother, and for his family-in-war, his comrades at the Tricorn Club.