“Highway robbery!”

Jem’s shrug was unapologetic. “A boy’s got to eat.”

Ben flipped him another coin. “All right. See if you can find this Johnstone. And then come straight to me.”

Jem tipped a nonexistent hat in a jaunty salute. “Aye-aye, Cap’n.” He disappeared soundlessly into the shadows.

Benedict checked his pocket watch and cursed. He was late to meet Georgie.

Georgie hurried down a shadowed walk and cursed her younger sister. Juliet hadn’t been at the water feature, and Georgie strongly suspected she’d retreated somewhere more private with her beau.

So now here she was, sneaking through the distinctly less-populated part of Vauxhall Gardens. She’d already interrupted three different amorous couples—the darkness had concealed the worst of it, thankfully—and despite muttering copious apologies and hastening away, her cheeks still burned with mortification.

“Georgiana?”

Her stomach dropped as she recognized the masculine voice, and the dark shadow that accompanied it, as her cousin’s stocky frame stepped out from behind a topiary bush.

“Josiah! What are you doing here?”

She couldn’t say it was a pleasure to see him. It wasn’t. She glanced left and right, and stifled a series of unladylike profanities. Had he been following her?

Her unease grew as Josiah strolled closer, and she saw his lips curved in a distinctly unpleasant smile.

“I could ask the same thing about you, Cousin. Are you meeting someone?”

She gave an exasperated exhale. “Of course not. I’m looking for Juliet.”

“Come now, don’t lie to me. You’re here to meet your lover, aren’t you?”

A trickle of fear mingled with her distaste as she caught the stale waft of alcohol on his breath. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Why is it ridiculous? Your new husband could barely have given you a taste of things before he set to sea. Maybe you’re here to scratch an itch.”

Georgie gasped. Josiah had always been unpleasant, but she’d never seen him drunk, nor heard him speak so crudely. She stepped back but was stopped short by the edge of a flower bed. Her heel sunk into the soft earth as he pressed closer, a belligerent expression on his face.

“All these years, I kept my distance. Tried to be respectful. You had us all fooled, didn’t you?” He shook his head. “I should tell everyone your sordid little secret. The ton would love to know why you’ve been so picky all these years. It’s not because you’re too high in the instep, is it, Georgie? It’s because you like a bit of rough.” He caught her upper arm in a painful grip. “You should have told me what you wanted, sweetheart. You didn’t have to marry a filthy sailor to get it.”