Loving Lady Georgianna (Spirited #2)

Chapter One

Hours Earlier

Her face burned.

Lady Georgianna, sister of the Earl of Claymore, hadn't experienced this particular sensation since a night five years ago, the evening of the fire which had left its permanent marker upon her left cheek. A network of scars spiderwebbed across her jaw, the skin riddled with craters of pink and liver-colored spots.

But it wasn't the years-old injury that heated her skin now.

It was the flush of embarrassment.

As the ladies' laughter washed over Georgie, it made her pale skin blotch and the freckles across her nose itch. She tried to ignore their snickers as she perused ribbons and gloves in the far corner of Wright's haberdashery. Her current selection was laid out on the glass countertop, the beige linen supple beneath her fingertips. Mr. Wright, the proprietor, stood off to the side, his eyes no doubt calculating the day's coming profits.

Her eyes landed on her old gloves that she had placed on the edge of the countertop. Compared to the freshly-stained colors and the new trinkets that decorated each case, Georgie was chagrined to discover how wretched her current pair appeared. Hers had begun to yellow in places, the threads torn, and the style many seasons old.

But then, what need had Georgie until now for a new pair?

"What do you think the duke even sees in her?"

The harsh words split through the relative quiet. The shop was empty but for her, the proprietor, and the two sisters whispering together. It wouldn't be flooded by aristocratic ladies and their purse-carrying gentlemen, Georgie knew, until much later - not a before after noon had crested and they had tarried over a pot of tea or a steaming cup of chocolate.

Georgie, however, had always arisen with the birds, never sleeping past nine.

It made her quite eccentric, she was sure.

Well, Georgie thought, thinking of the recent addition to her family in Charlotte, her new bold and outspoken sister-in-law, more eccentric than most.

Georgie glanced towards the corner where the ladies huddled, observing them unobtrusively.

Lady Caroline Ridlington was the more rounded sister of the two. Her tresses were a darker blonde secured so closely to her scalp, Georgie felt a momentary wince of sympathy. Her skin was drawn tight around her brown eyes and her lips were pinched in disapproval - which could either at the choices splayed on the countertop for her convenience or at the company in which she found herself this morning.

She looked to Georgie like a taciturn governess come to take her charge to task.

Her sister, Lady Amelia, was the opposite. She was a birdlike creature, long and thin, her day dress a bright yellow that matched her blonde locks. She would be rather stunning, Georgie thought, if her brown eyes weren't currently narrowed and her lips curled in disgust. Lady Amelia had married Baron Stewart a few years past, and if rumor could be believed, put on the airs of a queen, looking down on her subjects.

Finding Georgie's attention on her, Lady Amelia cast a slick smile, fully aware that their conversation had travelled to its destination. Lady Amelia leaned ever closer to Lady Caroline, fanning one side of her mouth with her palm.

It did nothing to mute her words.

"That should be obvious, dear. The duke must simply pity the poor gel and was acting the gentleman. Just imagine," she clucked, glancing at Georgie in mock sympathy, "walking about with that unsightly blemish on one's face."

Lady Caroline mock shivered, her bosom shuddering obscenely beneath her tight gray dress. She twisted away from Georgie as if the sight of her was offending her senses. "I would be more concerned for the child of just such a union."