"I don't understand it, Thorne. How could I have not have known?"
Greyson's panicked words broke through Thorne's haze and his gaze snapped back to the man in front of him. Lady Ridley's ballroom was packed to the gills, and even though Thorne stood heads taller than anyone else in the room, he debated standing on the tips of his toes to search for the one person that mattered.
He cursed low beneath his breath when he couldn't find her, only to be reminded of that fact by her elder brother and Thorne's dearest friend.
Greyson pitched a hand through his overlong black hair. "How did I not know what my own sister was going through?"
The pain in Greyson's tone almost brought Thorne to his knees. He had already known how much he had messed up by letting Georgie go--not once, but twice. His mission was to change that. Tonight. It wasn't lost on Thorne exactly what tonight was--the end of their bargain. Focusing once more on his oldest friend, Thorne wondered if he should come clean.
That it was, in fact, him who had been Georgie's lover. Him, who had given her a child. Only to lose that child without ever meeting him.
Nicholas.
First order of business after he graveled his arse off was to see his son with Georgie, to build a connection, even if it was only from his hand touching a gravestone. Second order of business was to wed Georgie as soon as possible. And third? Ravish her and leave her panting in his bed until they had both had their fill and she was pregnant once again.
Hell, probably not even then. He already knew he would never has his fill.
Now, Thorne just needed to find the bloody woman. He had it on good authority that Georgie was here.
Somewhere.
"Your sister was never an easy woman to read," Thorne said now, placing a hand on Greyson's shoulder and tightening his grip in comfort. "Knowing Georgianna, she didn't wish to burden you further."
"That shouldn't have mattered. I'm her elder brother. It's my job to look out for her and how can I do that if she won't tell me her problems? I'd do anything for her..."
Thorne's throat felt tight and he swallowed, trying to remove the blockage so he could breathe. His eyes flicked over the crowd once more. "As would I, dear friend. But there's no point in regret or 'has beens' or 'could have dones'. Just knowing you're there for her now will be enough. And upon failing in that, you insert yourself so thoroughly she'll want to turn to you."
And she would. By God, he desperately wanted Georgie to.
This had to be the hardest part. Knowing that he alone was the cause of Greyson's current predicament and that Georgie had been suffering no less than Thorne had.
Greyson's lips tilted at that but all too soon his eyebrows dipped in the center, a formidable expression darkening his eyes. "When I find the bastard that touched her, I will obliterate him into nothing."
"Did she..." Thorne cleared his throat. "...hint who the man was?"
"No, damn you, she didn't. If she had I wouldn't be here now."
Thorne wasn't too sure about that.
"Who would cast aside Georgianna?" Greyson glowered at the room causing a few passing ladies to divert course and go around them. "It's like turning your nose upon a baby, for christsakes. Bloody hell, the culprit bloody did that too, in fact."
"Did he know, however?" The words slipped out from Thorne and he cringed back at the blackness Greyson turned his way. "About the child?"
"The bastard in question had relations with my sister out of wedlock. There were many things the devil could have done to prevent a child, and he should have thought of just such a scenario before he put his prick anywhere near my bloody sister!"
With each measured word, Greyson's voice went higher and higher, and Thorne's cringe got deeper and deeper. Hell. His friend was going to kill him! It wouldn't matter a farthing the circumstances. It wouldn't matter that it haunted Thorne days and nights, months and years. He thought back to his conversation with his mother yesterday and had to resist touching his face which in no time would be rearranged completely.
"Hell, Thorne. I'm not cut out for this. At this rate, between Charlie's escapades and my sister's lost love and lost baby...and hell, I just recently heard of a bloody falling statue!"
The reminder of that was yet another thing that gave Thorne nightmares. Despite how hard he tried, he couldn't figure out who would be after Lady Georgianna.
"At this rate, my head will be fully gray by next week," Greyson finished on a mumble.
Thorne was about to return with an answer when a commotion brought his attention upwards. The crowd was parting like the Red Sea.
"What the devil?" Greyson's murmur was exactly what Thorne was thinking, especially as Thorne caught sight of just who was causing waves in the crowd. His jaw almost dropped to the floor when he found the Duke of Burkeley--the composed one, the one who never caused a --barreling past ladies with the barest of apologies as he aimed straight for them.
"What the bloody hell did you do now?" Greyson asked, his fists tightening as he gave Thorne the side eye. "But hell, awfully convenient of him."
Before Thorne could ask what that meant, Thorne felt Burkeley's shadow upon them. And then with a bloody roar, Greyson's fist was drawing back before plowing right into the duke's nose. "You bloody scoundrel! How dare you compromise my sister!"
"Oh, God-" Thorne mumbled, catching Greyson's arm as it lodged back for another go at the duke. "Greyson, stop!"
It took all the strength Thorne had to keep Greyson reined in as Burkeley groaned, holding his nose as a geyser of red shot down his meticulously pressed white linen shirt. His dark head came up as he growled. "What was that for, Claymore?"
"For messing with my sister, you unmitigated arse!" Greyson lunged and Thorne barely held him back.
"Good god, man," Burkeley said, his dark brown eyes sparking as his gaze trained on Georgie's brother. "Ours was a mutual separation, and I don't have time for this nonsense."
That set Greyson off again. "You bloody blighter! You broke my sister's heart and you dare to call it nonsense. Bloody hell, Thorne, get off!"
Thorne only clasped his hands tighter around the man's waist as Burkeley wiped his bleeding nose on his sleeve. God, if Thorne hadn't known it was the duke before he wouldn't have recognized him now. Any second now Thorne expected the duke to poof at the audacity of blood on his coat.
"I never hurt your sister, and we do not have time for this." The duke's cold brown gaze snapped to Thorne over Greyson's shoulder. "Where is Georgie?"
"What do you mean where is Georgie?" Greyson growled. "You have no business being anywhere near-"
"Is she not here?" Thorne's voice cut off Greyson's rant, and he tilted his head so Greyson's voice didn't obstruct what the duke was saying. Or the graveness in the duke's face. "What's wrong?"
If possible, the duke's face got darker than Thorne had ever seen it. "What about my mother, Lady Elizabeth? Or Randall?" His dark head swivelled as Burkeley looked at the surrounding party.
Thorne shook his head. "What does Rand..."
"What has happened?" Greyson's face was in the duke's face and his hand tightening in his cravat. "Why are you so concerned with Georgie after you left her? And with a child, no less?"
"Has the your honeymoon in the Indies effected your hearing as well as your complete lack of propriety-"
Good God, Thorne didn't have time for this where Georgie was concerned.
"For godssakes, Greyson," Thorne said. "Let the man speak. What is the meaning of your questions?" He looked toward the duke, but Burkeley couldn't get a word in edgewise as blood continued to trickle down his nose.
"I most surely will not!" Greyson sneered, another fist digging into the duke's shirt and, Thorne was surprised to see, lifting the heavy man onto his tiptoes. "You will answer for your wickeness hear and now. To think you speaking of propriety at a time like this!"
The duke's face hardened into stone. His gaze flicked down to Greyson's hand on his finery. Burkeley's nostrils flared. "You might wish to remove your fingers from my person. For while the first punch was a free pass on account of your sister, your next strike won't be so welcome."
"Do you not even deny it?" Greyson asked, incredulous.
"Greyson-" Thorne growled, his mouth at his best friend's ear. "It was not the duke-"
Thorne's growled words went unheard even as a prickling took place on his nape.
"I haven't the faintest idea what you are speaking of. We have barely shared one kiss-" the duke continued, oblivious to Greyson's purple cheeks and crazy eyes, "-and I doubt I have forgotten basic lessons in how a baby is made."
A shocked gasp came from their circle, and Thorne knew this night wasn't helping anyone.
"You bloody little maggot!" Greyson lodged a punch, but the duke was much more nimble than he looked. Burkeley dodged as Greyson continued, growling, "If you touch as much as one hair on my sister's-"
"It was me!" Thorne stepped between the two battling men, shoving Greyson bodily off the duke. Thorne placed his face in Greyson's, their foreheads touching. Enough! "It was me! I left your sister, and I'm a goddamned fool, but she broke off her engagement to be with me. I made a muck of things, and I will explain further as soon as the duke," Thorne said, turning to face the man in question, "tells me what the devil's going on."
"I would like to know that as well." All three heads turned toward the new arrival, and Thorne couldn't help it. He snapped his teeth at the man like a damned animal and it had the desired effect. His host, Lord Ridley, held up his hands, his eyes becoming humorously large in his oval-shaped face.
"Perhaps we should take this outside?" Burkeley nodded towards the terrace and he didn't both to wait for their agreement, heading towards the darkness of the gardens. Thorne nipped at Burkeley's heels and as soon as he was outside, he had the duke against the wall. Burkeley grunted with the force of his impact.
"Where is Georgie?" Thorne growled.
Thorne felt Greyson's form behind him, the intensity of the man's filthy look, in fact, but then Greyson broke free of his shock and stood next to Thorne, arms crossed over his chest. "And now, if you please."
"I found out the source of the attacks on Georgianna." The fact that Burkeley didn't sneer down at Thorne's manhandling of himself told Thorne he wouldn't like what came next. "You were the first target, but considering you are here and still alive, it leads me to believe Georgianna will be taken in place of you."
"What in bloody hell are you speaking of?" Greyson looked like a dark-haired Viking ready to raid as he leaned in.
Thorne found would happily pillage alongside him.
Before they could get their answers, another form lingered in the light from the ballroom. Charlie stepped in, whispering, "Georgie? Are you still out here?"
Greyson shoved away from Burkeley's form as he met his wife. "What are you doing out here? Where is Georgie?"
Her eyes fluttered as she took in the scene. Her husband's disheveled black locks, Burkeley shoved against the wall and no doubt covered in dirt. When they landed on Thorne, himself, her brows furrowed. "What's going on? Where's Georgie?"
"You haven't seen her?" Greyson barked.
Charlie's head shook, her curls dancing on her collarbone. Her gaze met Thorne. "She's supposed to be with you. You sent Georgie a letter asking her to meet you in the gardens. Did you meet her already?"
"You did what?" Greyson's voice went loud again.
Thorne felt his stomach drop. He imagined the evening when the marble bust had narrowly missed her. The clattering of the carriage as she was nearly mown down."Wh...what letter? I didn't send her any letter."
"I saw it myself. It had your stamp on it and everything."
"I know where she is." Burkeley's voice came from the dark like a looming scepter.
Thorne barely heard it over the pulsing in his temples. "Where is she?"
Burkeley's grim face told Thorne he wouldn't like the answer.