Free Pretty Persuasion by Olivia Kingsley

Someone whose heart, hopes, and dreams had not been crushed. Someone who didn't have to return to face her parents' wrath.
    Someone who was not forced to spend the foreseeable future under Robert Balfour's thumb.
    She waited for him to gloat, to turn nasty again. But when he did speak, his voice was hesitant, almost gentle. "We'll stay the night at another inn. With an early start tomorrow, we ought to reach Yorkshire shortly after nightfall."
    Georgie heard his words, but they didn't register. She was vaguely aware of him moving across the room, drawing a chair next to hers. She couldn't look at him. Pity or scorn, she could bear neither.
    "You needn't worry about your reputation," he said, as if she gave a fig about that at the moment. "The duchess told me she'd send your aunt off to the country under the pretense of visiting an ailing relative. By all appearances, you'll be in her company."
    "T-that's good." Oh, how she hated the sound of her voice, so feeble and pathetic.
    His thumb touched her cheek, nudging her to face him. She wanted to shrink away but had not the strength. "It's not the end of the world, Georgie. You'll recover."
    "Of course," she said thinly. A shiver racked through her.
    Robert stood and drew off his caped greatcoat, draping it over her shoulders. She wanted to thank him, but before she had the chance, he walked away from her, toward the window. She pressed her cheek against the rough wool, inhaling the familiar smell of horseflesh combined with the unfamiliar hint of cologne and something else, a scent she could put no name to, except that it was pleasant.
    She studied his profile as he stared out into the blackness, looking at she knew not what. It was as if he knew she wanted silence.
    Who was he? One moment so horrid, so cold, and the next, so kind. Too kind. It would be so simple to loathe him if he had remained vile.
    Warmth spread through her beneath the heavy woolen coat. The unbidden image of Phillip came to mind, but she pushed it away. There'd be time enough later for contemplation, for anger and regret.
    She could be worse off. Picturing her brother or, God forbid, her father bursting in on her and Phillip made her blood turn cold.
    Wrapping herself tighter in Robert's coat, she felt something stiff prodding her arm. Reaching into the pocket, she found the document Robert had been waving about. She hesitated. Did she really want to know its contents? Seeing her parents' disavowal would deliver a blow she could ill bear at present.
    "Go on. Read it."
    Startled by the deep rumble of Robert's voice, she looked up and found him watching her. "I'm not sure I want to."
    "Then don't." He shrugged and turned back to the window.
    She had his permission, and wouldn't it be better to know for sure? Hands unsteady, she flipped the letter over.
    What on earth…?
The seal was broken already. She had not noticed that upstairs. Robert must have concealed it. But why?
    She unfolded the paper and scanned her father's familiar scrawl, suffering mild surprise, then outright disbelief. The letter was addressed to Lord Sheffield, though it must be the
former
earl, as the date read two years back. And it concerned the possible purchase of… "Horseflesh!" she cried, incredulous.
    Robert had the nerve to flash a tiny smile as he cast a look over his shoulder. "I grabbed the first letter I could find."
    "It's not true, then? They didn't say they would cut me off?"
    "The duchess made no mention of it. She appeared more concerned with putting a stop to the marriage." His smile turned wry as he added, "And I did not even speak with Southwell."
    Georgie's head spun with conflicting emotions. Relief that her parents had not disowned her, and fear that they might yet do so. Annoyance at Robert's deception; reluctant admiration at his cleverness. And in the recesses of her mind, her future loomed—unavoidable, uncertain, and unwelcome. A husband would be expected to take part in it, a man of unknown identity who met