Divine (19 page)

Georgiana’s bedroom

Haldon Manor

Nighttime on September 5, 1813

Birthday in minus 33 days

G
eorgiana stood beside her bedroom door. It was the dead of night, and someone had left a threatening note. Again.

For the
third
time.

There had been another note two days earlier, similarly slipped under her door while she was out riding with Sebastian and Captain Phillips, right before the latter had taken his leave of Haldon Manor.

That note had been vaguely sinister but otherwise disappointing:

Something bad may befall you if these warnings are not heeded.

However, the note tonight seemed more promising.

You have been repeatedly warned. Send Lord Stratton away or the consequences will be dire.

It was the same handwriting as before, but there was something below the script. Holding her phone flashlight steady, she examined it more closely.

Was that a drawing of a dagger with
blood
dripping off it?

Georgiana smiled as all the hairs on her arm stood on end.

Finally
a letter to give her gooseflesh. At last. Third time was the charm.

Now she just needed to track down the culprit. As usual, shining a flashlight down the hallway revealed nothing.

It was rapidly becoming preposterous. Who was leaving all these notes? She most certainly couldn’t be expected to return to bed
now
.

Which meant investigating in the middle of the night. It was becoming quite the habit.

Only this time, she would be properly prepared.

Five minutes later, Georgiana cautiously opened her bedroom door. Dressed in dark jeans and t-shirt topped by a moto jacket, she had stuffed her long braided hair into a black beanie. She also carried a rucksack with her night vision goggles, a flashlight, pepper spray and a taser. Just in case.

She felt decidedly detective-ish.

Or was it ninja-ish?

She shrugged; either was perfectly acceptable.

The moon, full and bright, sent beams through the windows, providing enough light that she didn’t need her beloved night goggles.

More’s the pity.

A quick perusal showed the family wing sadly lacked intruders. From there, she made a thorough sweep of the first floor of the house.

The library and Arthur’s study were empty, and the drawing room french doors firmly locked. No one hid behind the curtains in the great hall. Billiard balls cast long shadows in the game room, but nothing else was amiss.

The house seemed decidedly tucked in and asleep for the night. Nothing stirring.

At least her admonitions to the butler and housekeeper had been heeded. Everything was securely locked.

So how had someone gained entry?

She ventured into the guest wing. Though the thought of chaperoning Sebastian was ridiculous, she also wanted to ensure all was well. She saw it all too clearly.

Lady Ambrosia slowly opens Sebastian’s door, Mr. Snickers wriggling in her arms. Another cloaked woman creeps down the hall, while a third woman drops stealthily from a hole in the ceiling. All nearly vampire-like in their quiet intensity . . .

Of course, that was just her vivid imagination. No one was there. The hallway of the guest wing stretched empty before her, punctuated by bands of moonlight streaming through the open doors of unoccupied bedrooms. Decidedly loose women and vampire free.

Georgiana stopped every ten feet or so to listen, but all she heard was the sound of her own breathing and the house itself, wood creaking as it contracted after the heat of the day.

She continued, peering into several of the vacant guest rooms but saw nothing amiss. Just tidy rooms, breathless and waiting. Not unlike herself.

Pursing her lips, she entered the rose bedroom—the last bedroom in the wing and the only one with a partial view of the walled garden. It was so named not for the color of its draperies (an uninspired gray), but instead for the profusion of roses which dotted the room: a pair of rose painted vases on the fireplace mantle, the rose painting above the bed, roses twining through the rug on the floor.

Imagination had never been her mother’s strong point.

Nor, despite its excellent vantage over the surrounding park lands, was it the sort of room one assigned to a visiting earl.
He
was firmly ensconced in the blue bedroom across the hall with its large mullioned window and commanding view of the gravel drive and approach to the house.

Not that it mattered.

The rose bedroom was empty, everything neatly in its place. Just as the rest of the house.

How frustrating.

Georgiana tiptoed over to the window and, depositing the rucksack on the window seat, dug out her night goggles. Even when viewed as an eerie shade of green-gray, the garden was still. Though she could barely see the section of wall where the Jupiter sign had been written, she could tell there was nothing there tonight.

No one was about.

It just figured, didn’t it? Her life was always on the
cusp
of mystery.

Never firmly immersed in the middle of it.

Sighing, she stowed the goggles back in her rucksack on the window seat and bent to zip the bag.

The faintest slip of sound shushed to the right.

Suddenly, vice-like arms grabbed her from behind, wrapping around her upper arms and chest in a crushing grip.

Gasping, Georgiana went into instant defense mode, her taekwondo training from the past year instinctively coming out.

Without a second’s hesitation, she leveraged her weight backward, twisted clockwise and used her right leg to hook her attacker’s left leg and throw him to the ground, catching him by surprise.

However, her attacker was tall, quick and obviously used to hand-to-hand combat.

As he fell, he clutched her upper right arm, dragging her down with him, spinning her around.

A fraction of a second later, Georgiana found herself on her back on the floor, immobilized beneath a large male body with strong hands pinning her arms to the hard wood.

She fought him for a second, but he was far too substantial and muscled to budge.

She twisted her head toward the window. If only she could reach her rucksack and the taser inside it.

“Release me now or I’ll scream loud enough to wake the dead,” she hissed, bringing her face back to him and struggling to free her arms. “How dare you attack me in my own home!”

The man went intensely still, most likely realizing he held a woman, not a man, pinned to the floor.

“Bloody hell!” he whispered hoarsely.

Their combined breathing echoed in the dark silence.

Georgiana froze, acutely aware of his heavy weight on top of her, the smell of leather and wool and clean soap surrounding her.

She knew that smell. That voice.

“Sebastian!” she whispered, relief flooding her body.

The moonlight streaming through the window outlined the shadow of him above her. He shook his head back and forth and then lowered it.

“If I release you, are you going to take another swing at me? I would prefer that none of my various parts receive any further damage,” he whispered in her ear, his breath puffing against her cheek. He vibrated with leashed power.

Georgiana swallowed. When had Sebastian become so strong? And so . . . fierce?

He was just . . . Sebastian. Good-humored, funny, often obnoxious.

But
fierce
?

“Let me up,” she said, pushing against his hands. “You’re hurting my arms.”

Without any apparent effort, he sprang upright and, reaching down, pulled Georgiana to her feet. He did not, however, release her arm. His grip was tight and unyielding.

“Georgiana, are you mad?!” Even in the faint light, she could see his scowl.

Scowl
? Since when did Sebastian ever scowl?

This night was proving full of surprises.

“Sebastian! How you startled me.” Georgiana tugged on her arm, testing his grip. He merely grasped her more tightly.

“You will be the death of me, woman. How could you go creeping around the house dressed like—” He drew her closer to the window to inspect her clothing in the moonlight. “—like a common thief? And in breeches, no less.”

Georgiana grimaced and twisted her arm in a quick half circle, simultaneously pushing against his forearm, efficiently breaking his hold on her. Taekwondo was proving all sorts of useful tonight.

“What the hell?” he hissed and grabbed her forearm again. Holding her harder this time.

With a grunt, Georgiana leveraged her weight forward and then promptly yanked her elbow upward toward her shoulder, again quickly breaking his grip. Simultaneously, she grasped his hand, twisting it out and pulling downward on his thumb, forcing him to the side.

As before, the fast, unexpected nature of her attack caught him by surprise.

Righting himself, Sebastian held out his hands. “Enough, Georgie!
Pax
.”

She folded her arms across her chest and tapped a foot against the floor, staring at him. Half lit by the moonlight, his face looked decidedly confused. Georgiana was quite sure Sebastian had never experienced taekwondo before, soldier or no. That said, she was also quite sure he could defeat her if he was truly determined.

When had he become so strong and . . . large?

Dangerous.

Georgiana wrapped her arms tighter around her chest as a shiver chased down her spine.

She was cold. That was all. The tingling she felt had
nothing
to do with Sebastian.

Nothing at all.

He was
not
thrilling to her.

He shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. Which made his shoulders look even larger.

He was dressed in a loose shirt unbuttoned at the throat and stuffed into breeches. Hair mussed, chin stubbled and unshaven. His sideburns cut sharply across his cheeks, giving his face a menacing look.

It should be
illegal
for a man to look like that. All sweeping romantic clothing and leashed power.

“What the . . . Where did you . . . I mean, dash it all Georgiana, you fight like a soldier. Where did you learn how to do this? You cannot tell me such maneuvers are now part of a lady’s traditional education.”

Georgiana grimaced and looked out the window. How could she respond? She couldn’t tell him the truth. What would be believable?

She needed to think.

Silence.

“Another second and I would have put a knife into you,” he said, taking a step closer to her, forcing her eyes back to his. “Blast! This isn’t some sort of game. One of your little fantasies. I have seen war and death and such ugliness . . .” He took in a deep, steadying breath. Even in the dim light, she could see the muscles in his jaw working. “Where did you learn this? Why are you roaming the house in the dead of night? And what, in heaven’s name, are you wearing?”

She let out a frustrated huff and chewed on her cheek.

Think, think, think
. She needed a good story.

But for once, her mind was blank.

This hulking man in front of her scrubbed all coherent thought from her brain.

The low light cast him into sharp relief, highlighting the width and breadth of him. Catching the drape of the white shirt over his shoulders and chest. The pulse of his breathing in and out.

He had lived nearly a decade since she had truly last known him. This fact struck Georgiana forcefully now. Tonight, the good-humored boy had vanished and, in his place, was this powerful, threatening man of action.

Hostile letters, glowing symbols and now a hunky guy had cornered her in a darkened bedroom. She took back everything about her life only being on the cusp of mystery.

Ah, what a fantastic week!

Wait . . . Had she just considered Sebastian
hunky
?

The air in the room suddenly felt too close, too charged.

“Talk to me, Georgiana. How did you go from Death’s door to possessing the skills of a trained assassin in little more than a year? I’m not letting you out of this room until I get some answers.” He folded his arms across his chest. Even in the low light, she could see the muscles in his upper arms flex.

All in all, it was a little mesmerizing.

Oh, who was she kidding? It was more than just a
little
mesmerizing.

Georgiana shook her head, trying to clear it. She needed to
stop
.

This was
Sebastian
. Not some dark, mysterious guy she had just met. This was her old playmate, her friend. The person she loved like James or Arthur.
Brotherly
affection.

Nothing more.

But he says he wants to marry you
, a tiny part of her brain whispered.
All this gorgeous male-ness could be
yours.

Georgiana quickly pushed
that
traitorous thought away. And ignored the goosebumps covering her arms.

“I will wait all night, if I must,” he said after a moment.

She still had no good answer. He had effectively turned her brain to mush.

So she said the first thing that came to her.

“Well, why are
you
out and about at this hour?”

If she had learned anything from all her television watching it was this: the best defense was almost always a good offense.

The smallest smile touched his lips. “I heard someone creeping about and came to investigate. Nice try. Now answer my questions, if you please.”

They stared at each other for a heartbeat.

“Someone slipped a threatening note under my door,” Georgiana finally said. “I wanted to find the person who did it.”

Sebastian let out a heavy breath and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“And, again, it did not occur to you to wake a footman or notify
anyone
that there might be an intruder in the house?”

“I am a grown woman, Sebastian! And if someone threatens me, I feel that I have the right and ability to investigate—”