The Homeless Heiress. Anne Herries

is certainly the way of a gentleman,’ Richard replied, a faint smile on his lips. ‘But can you be certain that he used your uncle’s debts to secure you in marriage? Are you sure you heard correctly?’

      ‘Yes, quite certain,’ Georgie said. ‘I heard my uncle talking to my aunt. She was quite shocked and tried to persuade him that it was not right, but he told her that he had no choice. I knew that they would use every method of persuasion to try to force me to take him and so I ran away.’

      ‘And into more trouble!’

      Georgie bit her lip. ‘You do not have to go on about it! I have learned my lesson.’

      ‘It is to be hoped that you have,’ Richard told her severely.

      Georgie glared at him. ‘If you do not wish the trouble of taking me to my great-aunt, you could send me in a carriage with a servant.’

      ‘Yes, I could,’ Richard said, his eyes narrowed in thought. He was not sure why he had not arranged it while he lay confined to bed. Henderson could have secured the services of a lady’s maid and they might have travelled by post-chaise. ‘But I feel responsible for you. It would not be sensible to send you all that way when we cannot be certain of your reception. Have you thought what you will do if your great-aunt refuses to take you in?’ Georgie shook her head. ‘She is bound to be elderly and may not wish the trouble of a young woman. What will you do if she sends you back to your mother’s brother?’

      ‘I have no idea,’ Georgie said honestly. ‘However, once I have my money I intend to set up my own establishment.’

      ‘At your age? Impossible!’

      ‘I am nineteen,’ Georgie told him. ‘At least, I shall be in a few weeks. Besides, I have no choice if my great-aunt does not want me. She and my mother’s brother are the only relatives I have.’

      Richard nodded, his expression giving nothing away. ‘Well, we must see what she has to say when we arrive. And now you may join me in the parlour.’ He offered her his arm, which she took shyly, making certain that she put no pressure on him as they walked. ‘I saw you playing chess with Henderson. You will oblige me by giving me a game. I have found it extremely tedious being tied to my bed these past days.’

      ‘Well, it is your own fault,’ Georgie replied, a sparkle in her eyes. ‘Had you not banned me from your chamber, I should have enjoyed spending some time entertaining you before this, sir.’

      ‘And what would my servants have made of that?’ Richard replied a glint in his eyes. ‘I am past thirty, miss, and you are eighteen. If it became known that you had come to my bedchamber—made regular visits—your reputation would be gone. Even now, you run the risk that your great-aunt will think you sunk below her notice.’

      ‘Oh…’ Georgie flushed. ‘I didn’t think of it like that, because, after all, you were not likely to get up and ravish me—and I think I could run faster than you at the moment.’

      Richard heard the lilt of laughter in her voice. Had she no idea what she looked like in her breeches? She was more enticing than she could imagine! ‘You would not think it amusing if it became common knowledge. After all, you will want to go into society one day, perhaps marry? You would not want people to think you shameless?’

      ‘No…’ She blushed and hung her head. It hurt to know that he thought her shameless. ‘Please do not scold me. I know that my behaviour has been reckless. I have been trying not to think of the consequences, for I cannot change things now—can I?’

      ‘No,’ Richard agreed. Glancing at her face, he saw the sparkle of tears. ‘Well, do not turn missish on me now, Georgie. No tears! We are in this scrape together and we must brush through it as best we can. No more talk of going off alone. I shall escort you to your great-aunt and see you settled. Besides, I find my business takes me in that direction and it is possible that I may kill two birds with one stone.’

      ‘May I ask the nature of your business in Yorkshire, sir?’

      ‘No, you may not,’ Richard said and grinned as he saw a flash of annoyance in her eyes. Better she should be angry than weep! ‘It is for your own sake, miss, believe me. I am involved in something dangerous—as what happened the other night proves only too well. I am hoping that my enemy will not follow us from town. Henderson is to follow us on horseback, to keep a watch on my back, though I hope he will not be needed, at least while you are with me.’

      Georgie raised her eyes to his. Her heart was racing, because the thought that he might die at the hands of an assassin was more painful than she cared to admit. ‘You almost died last time, sir. I hope that whoever it was will not try again. I should not like you to die.’