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Sweet Jesus on Sunday.

How had he jumped to that already?

She still struggled with marrying him, let alone sharing a bed and giving birth to his children.

For the first time in her life, Georgine acknowledged she might become a mother.

Before she could respond, Matilda flew into the room, panting, as if she had sprinted the length of the house. Face pale and features taut, she wrung her hands together.

Robyn jerked his head up, instantly alert.

“What has upset you so, Matilda?”

Georgine had never seen Matilda in such a state.

“Robyn, Nelly just took me aside.” For an instant, Matilda appeared about to cast up her accounts. She pressed both palms to her stomach.

Something drastic must have happened, and Georgine prayed it had nothing to do with the walking scandal sheet in stays who had departed this room only minutes ago.

“Mittie?” Robyn gently coaxed. “What did Nelly say?”

“As she returned from her half-day off, Nelly overheard that boiled cabbage in a bonnet, Mrs. Wynecott, blabbing to Lady Brammall and Mrs. Peasonhaugh down the street that she came upon you and Georgine in…”

Closing her eyes, she swallowed.

This was not good.

Not good at all.

Georgine’s stomach twisted into a tight knot as she braced herself.

So much for answered prayers.

“In what, Mittie?” Steel threaded Robyn’s gentle question, reminding Georgine of the unyielding and rather ferocious man in the garden weeks ago.

Slowly, Matilda opened her eyes.

Regret and embarrassment shone in their depths.

“In congress.” She choked on the word before blurting, “With the drawing room door wide open for the world to see.”

Robyn swore beneath his breath.

“Bloody hell.”

“Oh, my God.” Georgine buried her face in her good hand. “She’s Satan’s slithering spawn bedecked in silk and slippers.”

“Georgine, we must marry.”

Georgine slowly lifted her face, taking in Matilda’s horror.

“And we must do so immediately.” Urgency inflected Robyn’s voice and face. “There is no time to delay.”

Georgine tore her attention from Matilda’s mortified face. She could not let her or Regina suffer from what that devil’s doxy would do with her false accusations and slanderous lies.

Her heart and throat aching, she lifted her chin, determined to be strong, though she felt she might dissolve into a weeping, wailing mess any second.

Nevertheless, she forced the dreaded words past her stiff lips.

“Very well, Robyn. I shall marry you.”

She steeled her emotions and her resolve.

This might not be the path she had chosen for her life, but heaven help her, she would determine the pavement she walked upon.

“But I have terms.”