“Of course. One wedding doesn’t cancel out the other. That’s not how it works. We’ll just be doubly married.” He bent and kissed her again. “Besides, I don’t care. I’ll marry you every week if that’s what it takes to keep you happy.” His expression clouded, and he glanced down at her warily. “You don’t want to get married at St. George’s, Hanover Square, do you?”

“No. The Caversteed family will provide the ton with quite enough entertainment with Juliet’s wedding there. How do you feel about a small, select wedding at my home in Little Gidding?”

He let out a sigh of obvious relief, gave her another quick kiss, then swatted her playfully on the behind. “Perfect. Now, go and tell your mother.”

“Mother, I have a confession to make.”

Georgie, freshly bathed and dressed in a flattering morning gown of sprigged muslin, strode into the drawing room. Juliet and Simeon had gone for a drive in the park. Mother looked up from pouring the tea with a questioning look, her brows drawn together.

“Not another one. Really, Georgiana, I do think you should consider my poor nerves. I’ve come to live in dread of you saying things like that. What is it this time? Should I brace myself for the revelation that you’re leaving us to join the circus? Becoming a clairvoyant?”

Georgie stifled a laugh at her mother’s peeved sarcasm. “Cousin Josiah was blackmailing me.”

“Blackmailing you? About what?”

“My husband. Josiah discovered the truth about him.”

Mother sniffed. “Oh. Well that’s hardly a surprise. I told you marrying a convict was a recipe for disaster, didn’t I?”

“Yes. You did. But I didn’t actually marry a convict. I married Benedict Wylde.”

Mother appeared temporarily struck dumb—a miracle in itself. She opened and closed her mouth a few times then managed to croak, “Wylde? Morcott’s brother? That Wylde?” She closed her eyes as if praying for strength, then sent Georgie the patented what-did-I-do-to-deserve-this glare. “Georgiana Caversteed. Well, I never.”

“Since our first marriage was a secret, I’m going to marry him again,” Georgie said. “I’d like to announce our engagement and have banns called as soon as possible.”

Mother’s teacup clattered in her saucer. “Good heavens above. Do you love him?”

“I do.”

“And does he love you?”

“He does. And before you ask, yes, he’s already signed the contract. I know for certain that he doesn’t want my money.”

Mother sank back on the chaise longue like a deflated balloon. “Well, then. Good gracious.” She took a fortifying swig of tea, and her eyes grew suspiciously moist. “Would your father have approved of him, do you think?”