Free A Flaw in the Blood by Stephanie Barron

worldliness. “How do you think he lost his eye?” she continued.
    “In a duel—or so it's said. Was that over a woman?”
    “A fifteen-year-old girl of excellent birth—kidnapped, raped, and returned like a piece of soiled goods to her family several weeks later, when von Stühlen tired of her. The child's brother tried to kill the Count—but in the event, only added to his air of dash, by giving him the eye patch.”
    “How do you know all this?”
    She shrugged. “I may still claim a good part of the acquaintance I formed at school, you know—and am everywhere received. Do you really think ladies talk only of fashion?”
    “I'll warrant the word
rape
never crosses the lips of your select friends.”
    “No. They use gentler terms—a kind of code for men of that stamp. They call von Stühlen dangerous, or the very worst of rakes, or
unreliable.
By which they mean he hasn't a feather to fly with, is a gazetted fortune hunter, and has any number of women in keeping.” Georgiana's eyes were trained on the horse's head as it trotted toward Russell Square. “He even offered to keep me, if it comes to that.”
    “He
what
?”
    “—Was so obliging as to suggest I should be his mistress. In the enclosure at Ascot, last June. He gave me his card on the strength of it.” Her smile was twisted. “Women such as myself, he assured me, were excessively diverting because of our intelligence; we added a certain spice to
amour;
but we could never hope to receive an offer of marriage in the general way. I believe he considered his notice an exceptionally great honour.”
    “I'd like to whip him the length of Pall Mall,” Fitzgerald said through his teeth.
    “I'm afraid I did something much worse. I
laughed
at him. And tossed his card back in his face. He was furious—publicly humiliated. If I'd been a man, I daresay he'd have demanded satisfaction.”
    “How could he think you'd listen to such a dishonourable proposal?”
    “He first made my acquaintance in the company of the Prince—and no doubt assumed I was Albert's mistress. Although the Consort was the least likely of men to have a lady in keeping, I daresay any number of gentlemen have made a similar error. How else to account for my intimacy with the Prince?” She worried the torn leather of one glove, her face averted. “But tell me, Patrick—why should von Stühlen be concerned with these attacks? That pack of ruffians may be bent upon killing Septimus Taylor for reasons wholly unrelated to us. Perhaps they merely followed you because you'd discovered their handiwork.”
    “Sep was at the Inner Temple, nowhere near Hampstead last night,” Fitzgerald said flatly. “Somebody cleared away that palisade on the Heath—and your dangerous Count was on the scene within hours of the wreck. That much we know. I go further, Georgie—I say von Stühlen saw murder done in the wee hours of the morning, then ordered the destruction of all evidence.”
    “Why?”
    “What other business could bring him to Hampstead? He came direct from Windsor!”
    “He admitted as much,” she retorted impatiently. “But you've nothing to tie him to the attack at the Inner Temple, much less that pack of hounds in St. Giles.”
    “Sweet Jesus, woman—would you
defend
such a man? This madness began last night, with my summons to Windsor. I was probably called there
in order
to be killed on my return.”
    “But
why,
Patrick? Why is it necessary to silence you? What do these people fear?”
    “I don't know,” he admitted bleakly as the hackney pulled to a halt before Georgiana's door. “But I won't risk dying before I find out. I leave London tonight—and you're to come with me, Georgie lass.”
    Her smile wavered. “Another
carte blanche
?”
    It was the polite term for von Stühlen's type of sexual arrangement. Fitzgerald's heart stuttered, and a wave of heat surged through his body. Before he could speak, however, she pressed her fingers against his lips.
    “I should be