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Authors: Jo Beverley

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Historical, #Fiction

A Scandalous Countess: A Novel of the Malloren World (20 page)

BOOK: A Scandalous Countess: A Novel of the Malloren World
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“My dear Georgie, you know I would travel to the Indies for you.”

 

She’d permitted him to use her name years ago. Another regret.

 

“The Indies?” she said,
sitting in a chair so he couldn’t attempt to sit beside her. “Would you bring me back rubies?”

 

“As big as pigeon eggs.”

 

She chuckled to make light of it. “I hope you bring me something of greater value. The latest on-dits from Town. How goes the Grafton tangle?”

 

He obligingly shared gossip, and Georgia had only to toss in the occasional comment and relax. He clearly wasn’t here to propose.

 

His conversation was so easy, and he knew just what topics would interest her. He was handsome.…No, not quite that. She realized his face was ordinary, but his style and manner made it seem a little finer.

 

“When will you move to Town and be au courant yourself, Georgie? I confess to surprise that you’ve roosted so far away.”

 

“I wished to visit my sister and see her baby. And now I’m assisting her with her ball.” She winced, but the word was out.

 

“Ah, yes.” He smoothed one ruffle. “I have not yet received my invitation.”

 

“I wonder where it went,” Georgia said, praying not to show guilt. But, perdition, there was a way out of it. “Of course you are invited, Sellerby.”

 

“Your first ball in your new life. May I claim the first dance?”

 

No,
came strongly in her mind, for the first dance was always seen as significant. She responded playfully, however. “Now, now, Sellerby, you can’t expect that. It will play out on the night.”

 

“No reward for your most devoted servant?”

 

“I reward Jane very well, I assure you, my lord.”

 

Did annoyance tighten his smooth features? If so, it passed.

 

“The witty Lady May. Your world awaits. I will do your bidding and await the night along with all your
court, but may I remind you how very well we have danced together?”

 

It was true. He was possibly the best dancer in the beau monde and had always been a favorite partner, but he was wooing her, even with discretion. It would not do.

 

“I won’t forget,” she said, but rose. “You must excuse me, Sellerby. With my sister having so recently given birth, I’m shouldering much of the work of the ball.”

 

Obediently, he rose. “Then the event will be a triumph, as all Lady May’s entertainments are. What will we all call you when you remarry, I wonder?”

 

Lady Sell was probably in his mind, she thought wryly. It hardly had a ring.

 

“Perhaps the time for such names will be over,” she said, moving toward the door. “I will soon reach my majority.”

 

“Such hoary age.”

 

She smiled at the joke, so when he removed something from his pocket and pressed it into her hand, she took it.

 

“A mere nothing,” he said,” but a gift of the heart.”

 

He left before she could thrust it back at him, and in any case she could tell it was a pair of gloves, which was an unexceptionable gift.

 

Damn the man, though, for trapping her like that. “I fear he’s going to persist with his suit,” she said.

 

“I believe you’re right, milady. But no matter. You have only to say no.”

 

“Yes, but…He’ll pester me with gifts and I’ll have to decide whether to return them or not.”

 

She untied the ribbon and spread open the paper. White silk gloves, as she’d thought. Short ones, beautifully made—but with embroidered hearts along the cuff.

 

“A gift of the heart, indeed,” she said, and gave the gloves to Jane. “Take those away. I have work to do and only twenty-four hours in which to do it.”

 

Chapter 12

 

T
he next evening, Georgia was considering the arrangement of her hair when someone knocked on the door. She sent a prayer that it not be her mother.

Her friend Lady Torrismonde entered, elegant in yellow silk.

 

Georgia flew into her arms. “Lizzie! It is fine beyond anything to see you at last.”

 

Lizzie Torrismonde laughed, hugging her back. “You could have come to visit us at any time these past few months, you know.”

 

“I know, I know, but I decided to complete my full term at Herne. How well you look!”

 

Lizzie wasn’t a beauty, but she was lovely, with fine skin and thick light brown hair. Two babies hadn’t changed her slim figure, but they’d increased her air of contentment.

 

“You’re wearing the peacock,” Lizzie said. “It deserves another showing. I think it’s my favorite of all your special gowns.”

 

Georgia rotated to show off the furled peacock tail that made up the saque back. “But should I go for the peacock eye aigrette, or scattered jewels?”

 

Lizzie settled on the settee. “As if I know better than you or Jane. What did you wear last time?”

 

“Jane?
What did I wear in my hair then?”

 

“The aigrette, of course, milady.”

 

“Then I shall do the same. Clever Lizzie.” Georgia sat so Jane could fix it, but turned on the bench to face her friend. “You’ve understood my purpose. I will appear as I was, unchanged.”

 

“You’re ready to face the world?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“So why are you late to go down?”

 

“The hair,” Georgia said, but then pulled a face. “You know me too well. I’m nervous. Isn’t that absurd? Lady May, nervous about entering a social occasion? But the guest list isn’t as cozy as I hoped. Thretford’s insisted on any number of political people. And their wives.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“Indeed. Lord North is to be here, and Anne North has always disapproved of me, as has Lady Shelburne. Thank heavens Pranks remains at Herne, his vinegary wife with him.”

 

“Georgia…,” Lizzie chided.

 

“She is! She hooks onto every new whisper about me. She’s sent a deputy, would you believe? Her sister, Eloisa Cardross, arrived today without warning, and she’s as spiteful as Millicent because she sees us as rivals in beauty. Poor Winnie has so few rooms, she murmured about Eloisa sharing with me, but I put my foot down, so Eloisa is in a tiny room intended for a maid. I suppose I shouldn’t have been so firm.…”

 

“Georgia, you’re too kindhearted. Anyone who turns up uninvited and unexpected should be grateful not to be sent to the nearest inn.”

 

“Perhaps so. She brought letters from Millicent for us all. I don’t know what was in the others, but I was sweetly reminded of the shame I’d brought on the family and how it was important to avoid more scurrilous attention. She even reminded me of that letter the dowager had trumpeted, and that it would not have been forgotten.”

 


The nasty cat!” Lizzie exclaimed, and from her that was extreme condemnation.

 

“She is. And I won’t excuse her on the grounds of being with child. I’m sure it doesn’t turn you into a harpy.”

 

“Of course it doesn’t. I hope you burned the letter.”

 

“Instantly. I wish I could burn every bit of foulness, but whispers and rumors can’t be burned.”

 

“They can be extinguished,” Lizzie said, “or simply die for lack of fuel, which is the case with you. You have only to avoid creating any new dramas tonight.”

 

“So boring!” Georgia said instinctively, but then she wrinkled her nose at her friend. “Don’t worry, I’m determined to be the epitome of demure.”

 

Lizzie laughed.

 

“I can be,” Georgia protested.

 

“In that gown?”

 

“It’s not much lower than yours.”

 

“But that little extra makes all the difference.”

 

Georgia swiveled to study her bodice. Her breasts did swell up beautifully above the flat front, and her delicate sapphire necklace drew attention there. “There’s nothing outrageous about it.”

 

“But epitome of demure?”

 

Georgia swiveled back. “Very well, I won’t attempt demure. However— Jane, are you finished?”

 

“As best I can with you twisting this way and that, milady.”

 

“Yet you work wonders. Thank you. Now, the mourning bracelet, please.”

 

Georgia was already wearing the locket that held Dickon’s picture, pinned amid the silver lace that trimmed her stomacher. That wasn’t for show, but simply to have Dickon with her in some way. She knew he’d watch over her if he could.

 

The black and silver bracelet didn’t really go with her ensemble, but that would make it all the more noticeable.
She had Jane fasten it on her right wrist, and then she looked at her friend. “Yes?”

 

“Yes,” Lizzie said.

 

“It’s so lovely to have my wise friend back by my side. Have I thanked you enough for your plentiful letters? You saved my sanity.”

 

“Your letters were a delight too, especially in the winter when I was as big as a whale with Arthur.”

 

“Oh, how is he now? He must be…heavens, is he five months old? I long to see him.”

 

“Then you must visit. He’s at a charming stage.”

 

“But keeping you in the country.”

 

“I enjoy the country, and when you have children, you will too. It’s much better for them.”

 

Georgia avoided talk of children by rising to put on gray silk shoes. If nature had worked as it should, she’d have a child, and if it had been a boy, she would still have most of her life. The Town house, Sanscouci, and Maybury Castle, at least for the next twenty years.

 

The question burst out. “
Why
do some couples have children easily—sometimes too easily—and others have none? It’s so unfair.”

 

“It’s God’s will,” Lizzie said.

 

“Then why does God will it so?”

 

Lizzie rose to take her in her arms. “That’s too deep a question for me, love. But when you marry again, I’m sure he’ll provide.”

 

“Not with a second Annunciation, I pray.”

 

“Georgia!” But then Lizzie hugged her. “Oh, you haven’t changed, and I delight in that. Certainly if anyone appears in your bedchamber in angel guise, be very, very suspicious.”

 

“Do you think any seducer has tried that trick? ‘But, Father, it was the Angel Gabriel!’”

 

They all burst out laughing, and Georgia could hold on to a bright smile as she left the room to face both friends and foe.

 

* * *

 

Georgia descended the stairs to the hall, chatting to Lizzie, striving to be as carefree as in the past, which was hard when pricked by avid glances. She was accustomed to being the center of attention, but not in this way. For most guests this was a first sight of Lady May since her husband’s death, and they were all passing judgment. And finding her wanting?

Had they expected her to attend in deep mourning, or in muted gray? She realized she was touching the locket and lowered her hand, but it was comforting to think of Dickon with her. He’d understand the peacock gown and approve as well.

 

Damnation, she would not cry.

 

She sought friends below. Harringay was over there, talking to Waveney, who was an admirer but could be more trouble than benefit now he was married. Babs Harringay must be here somewhere. She saw the Duke of Bridgwater, a possible suitor. He was paying no attention to her at all, probably absorbed in talk of canals.

 

Mr. Porterhouse’s smile was open, so she smiled back. He’d been one of the pleasantest members of her court and could always to be relied upon.

 

Dracy.

 

Where was Dracy?

 

Lizzie’s amiable, ordinary husband came to meet them, his eyes warm with appreciation of his wife. Of his wife, Georgia realized. Not of a spectacular gown or spectacular beauty, but of her. Had Dickon admired her most for herself or her style…?

 

No, she wouldn’t have such thoughts, especially here and now.

 

Where the devil was Dracy?

 

A quick glance around didn’t find him, and she was dismayed by how much that mattered. She realized she’d expected him to be waiting, as on the York Stairs ready to hurry to her side, to be her anchor. Lud, she was clinging
to the Torrismondes like a nervous child. Porterhouse was talking to the Berrisfords; Waveney was with his wife.

BOOK: A Scandalous Countess: A Novel of the Malloren World
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