“It’s quite true, Josiah. I am married. Three days ago, as a matter of fact. I wanted you to be one of the first to know.”

The irony in her tone was lost on Josiah. He’d removed his hat but hadn’t handed it over in the hallway before he’d barged his way up to the salon, and his knuckles gleamed white as he crushed the curled brim in his hand. He slapped it against his thigh in an impatient gesture and exhaled with a chiding half laugh. “You are a tease, Georgiana.”

Georgie lifted her chin, grateful that her mother and sister were out shopping. “Far from it. I would never joke about something as important as marriage. I wed by special license. Pieter can vouch to the truth of it.”

Josiah’s face grew red and mottled as his lips compressed in a furious line. “Who is he?” he demanded. “This husband of yours? Not one of ’em fortune hunters who’ve been sniffing ’round your skirts? You couldn’t stand the sight of any of ’em!”

Georgie refrained from adding, Fortune hunters like yourself? Instead she said, “He’s a midshipman on one of my frigates. We met at Blackwall three years ago. And we’ve been meeting in secret each time he’s been back in port.”

She silently congratulated herself on that little embellishment; she’d been inspired by her sister’s favorite book, Romeo and Juliet.

Josiah looked as though he’d swallowed something repugnant. “A midshipman! You’ve pledged herself to a common sailor?” His eyes ran over her in disgust, as if he were viewing her in a whole new—and distinctly more unflattering—light. “Which ship?” Disbelief fairly dripped from his tone.

“I don’t believe I’m under any obligation to tell you. I doubt the two of you will ever meet.”

Georgie smiled as an overwhelming sense of triumph poured through her, a feeling of weightlessness, of relief. She’d endured months, years, of Josiah’s unsubtle, overbearing attentions. The way he used his greater height and bulk to stand too close to her at every opportunity, invading her space, subtly aggressive. The way he sometimes caught her wrist to restrain her or placed his sweaty palm at the small of her back to steer her in to dinner. Proprietorial, when he had no cause to be. Now, all his fawning obsequiousness had come to nothing.

“But what of your fortune? The honor due to your family?” Josiah spluttered.

Of course, her money would be his primary concern. It was the only reason he’d ever paid her any attention. He took a menacing step toward her, and Georgie shrank back; he looked as though he wanted to throttle her. She glanced over at Pieter in a silent, pointed reminder that she was amply protected, and breathed a sigh of relief when Josiah spun on his heel and paced away.