Miss in a Man's World (12 page)

Almost at the very moment the memory drifted into her mind, Georgiana felt a strange tremor ripple through her and raised her eyes to discover a tall gentleman standing in the doorway leading to the larger salon, staring casually about the room through his quizzing-glass. Dressed in the impeccable style advocated by George Brummell himself, and with black hair cropped short and artistically arranged in the windswept look, he seemed to make nearly all the other gentlemen present appear slightly ill groomed in comparison.

So striking was the change in appearance that Georgiana didn't immediately appreciate precisely who it was. It was only when stark recognition on his own part replaced affectation, and the quizzing-glass fell from
his fingers, and those unforgettable dark eyes stared fixedly in her direction, did she know for sure. Then she very nearly forgot the movements of the dance, and almost disgraced herself by missing a step, when his heavy lids lowered and a look of such contempt took possession of those rugged features, a moment before he swung round on his heels and walked away.

Resisting the temptation to follow, Georgiana somehow managed to complete the dance, before rushing back into the drawing room, only to find it devoid of the one person she most wished to see.

‘Well, upon my word!' Lady Pickering declared, plumping herself down beside her friend the Dowager, just as Georgiana had returned to her ladyship's side. ‘Although I'd heard rumours that Viscount Fincham's behaviour had become increasingly eccentric of late, I couldn't quite bring myself to believe it. His manners have always been impeccable and his address second to none. Yet, this evening he arrives here graciously suggesting he's looking forward to enjoying this, his first engagement of the Season, and then five minutes later is taking his leave in the most brusque manner possible, declaring he's recalled an urgent appointment he simply must keep.'

‘How very fortunate that he did recall the appointment,' the Dowager opined, when her friend had hurriedly departed to greet some late arrivals. ‘I didn't even know he was here.'

‘Oh, he was here right enough, ma'am.' Georgiana assured her softly. ‘And I strongly suspect he left because he recognised me.' She took a moment to contemplate the delicately painted figures on her fan. ‘It would seem my worse fears have been realised My Sir Galahad has become my nemesis. Now it only remains to be seen just how he will extract retribution.'

‘W
ell, Miss Georgie, there's little more we can do now, 'cept wait and see what 'appens. It was the greatest bit of good fortune I came across Jem Fisher. As I said months back, after I'd managed to track 'im down after all these years, 'e ain't no saint, but 'e ain't no out-and-out rogue neither. Jem and 'is sons will keep their eyes and ears open. Not much goes on in that part of town that they don't get to know about sooner or later.'

Although at this time of day the park was virtually deserted, Georgiana remained well clear of the more popular paths in order to enjoy complete privacy with her loyal servant of long standing.

‘You've done well, Digby. At last we can attempt to follow the movements of each of the three suspects. What else was your good friend Master Fisher able to tell you yesterday?'

‘As you can imagine, miss, not much 'as been going on since the autumn. But 'e seems sure them there pearls, stolen last summer, didn't pass through the 'ands of the usual receivers, thems that deals in pre
cious stones. 'E's 'eard of some Frenchie taking gems out of the country. What's more 'e's almost sure, now, stolen goods 'ave been passed on at some gaming 'ouse.'

When Digby went on to divulge the establishment's precise location, Georgiana almost stopped dead in her tracks. ‘Good Lord! What a coincidence! I visited that very place myself once.'

Digby appeared anything but pleased to learn this. ‘Lord, Miss Georgie! You'll be the death o' me, so you will! A lady like yourself in a place like that—it don't bear thinking on.'

‘I told you I was in disguise,' she reminded him, completely unabashed by this, a further show of disapproval at her escapade of the previous year. ‘Besides which, Lord Fincham was with me, so I was perfectly safe. In fact, it was on that occasion we were set upon by footpads.'

‘Don't tell me n'more, miss, m'poor ticker won't stand it!' Digby implored.

He was the only other person in whom Georgiana had confided. It went without saying that, because he had designated himself the role of her protector down the years, he, like the Dowager Countess, hadn't been at all happy about her adventures last summer. Thankfully his staunch disapproval hadn't deterred him from assisting in her endeavours, and his visit to the metropolis the previous autumn was now beginning to show results.

‘So, how is the booty getting into the hands of this Frenchman, do you suppose? Is he a regular visitor to the gaming house?'

‘Jem Fisher don't seem to think so, no. Reckons 'tis one of the flunkies by name of Arthur Tate that works there that passes on the jewels to this 'ere Frenchie. Easiest thing in the world, miss, for one of the visi
tors to 'and over his coat, like, and for Tate to remove whatever's in the pocket. Seemingly on two or three occasions during the past eighteen months or so Tate's been spreading his blunt about quite freely.'

‘His share of the ill-gotten gains, no doubt.' Georgiana nodded. ‘Yes, it would seem Master Tate requires watching also.'

‘Don't you trouble, miss. 'Tis all taken care of. As soon as there's another robbery, they'll be someone watching 'im closely too.'

‘Although it's a terrible thing, sadly, that's what we must wait for,' Georgiana agreed, a moment before she detected some loud and excited barking and turned to discover a crossbred pointer emerging from a clump of bushes, before gambolling across the grass towards her.

Not considering her attire for a second, she uttered a spontaneous squeal of recognition and dropped to her knees. Digby, who had raised his walking-stick in order to ward off the four-legged interloper, instinctively lowered it again, as the dog, tail wagging furiously, bounded into Miss Grey's welcoming arms.

It took Georgiana a few moments to calm Ronan's enthusiasm sufficiently for her to rise to her feet. It was only then that she caught sight of the tall, impeccably attired figure of none other than Ronan's master striding down the path towards her, when it was far too late to attempt to avoid the encounter. Her spirits plummeted in an instant. One glance at that forbidding countenance was sufficient to warn her he was anything but pleased by her unexpected presence in the park at this early hour.

Calling Ronan to heel sharply, he at least paid her the common courtesy of doffing his hat as he approached.
‘My apologies, ma'am, for my dog's conduct. He isn't a pure-bred specimen and, as such, behaves abominably on occasions. Breeding always will out, will it not?' And with that verbal slap in the face he walked on, without so much as a backward glance.

‘Mistress, that were never…?'

‘I'm afraid so, Digby. That is none other than Viscount Fincham, the gentleman who, believe it or not, took such great care of me during my time in London last year.'

Swinging round, Georgiana headed back along the path, making a beeline for the nearest park exit in order to prevent a further encounter with the Viscount. She felt both angry and hurt by his attitude, and so frustrated because she couldn't explain her past behaviour; not that she supposed for a moment he would offer an opportunity for her to do so in his present frame of mind.

‘I can only imagine, Digby, that he supposes I was making a May-game of him. Naturally he's experiencing a degree of hurt pride, and intends to make me suffer in return.'

The servant looked at her closely, easily detecting the sadness she made no attempt to disguise. ‘Well, mistress, at least he's not tried to ruin your reputation by revealing what he knows about you.'

‘I never for a moment supposed he'd do that,' she returned. ‘I could almost wish he would, though. Anything would be better than the icy-cool disdain he seems intent on showing me now. I don't know how much of it I can take. I'm only flesh and blood, after all, and if he pushes me too far…'

 

Although it was impossible to forget the chance encounter with the Viscount, thankfully it didn't remain
long in the forefront of her mind after Georgiana had returned to the house. No sooner had she stepped into the hall than she was informed the Dowager wished to see her.

Only taking the time to change out of her slightly soiled walking dress, she went along to her ladyship's private apartments, where the latest edition of the Morning Post was thrust before her and a thin, arthritic finger was indicating the relevant column.

‘What we've been waiting for has happened at last!' her ladyship declared almost triumphantly. ‘Lady Chalmondley, it would appear, has been relieved of her emeralds whilst travelling from her home in Kent. Worth a king's ransom, according to the article, there.'

‘Kent…?' Georgiana echoed, after reading the piece for herself. ‘Doesn't one of our suspects hail from that part of the country, ma'am?'

‘Yes, Chard. But he's hardly likely to commit an offence so close to home, surely?'

Georgiana wasn't so sure. ‘I doubt very much he's involved in the robberies himself. Digby informs me Chard arrived in town early, in the middle of March, and this robbery, according to the paper, took place last week. Of course, that doesn't mean he doesn't organise the thefts and arrange the disposal of the jewels, once purloined. Furthermore, if he just happens to be well acquainted with Lady Chalmondley, he would perhaps have known of her intention to travel with the emeralds, and maybe even when she intended to make the trip.'

She went across to the door, taking the newspaper with her. ‘I'd best let Digby know about this right away. Perhaps we'll see some action now.'

‘Before you go, dear,' the Dowager said, delaying Georgiana's departure from the room, ‘are you sure you
wish to forgo the party this evening? Sophia is keen to go and Lady Pickering has very kindly agreed to chaperon her in my stead. She'd be only too delighted to take care of you also.'

‘Ah, but could she protect me from Fincham's icy-cool disdain, if he should happen to attend?' She smiled in spite of the fact that the attitude he seemed intent on adopting towards her couldn't possibly have distressed her more. ‘No, ma'am, I should much rather bear you company here this evening and build up some impenetrable defences before Friday, lest he should take it into his head to extract further revenge and attend Sophia's ball.'

The Dowager's dark eyes narrowed, much as Viscount Fincham's tended to do on occasions. ‘I sincerely trust, Georgiana, that you have not foolishly developed a tendre for that particular gentleman.'

‘Yes, folly indeed, ma'am,' she was obliged to acknowledge, ‘especially after our brief encounter in the park earlier today, when he made his own opinion of me perfectly plain. From what little he did say, I gained the distinct impression the rumour concerning me must have reached his ears. Foolishly, perhaps, my high opinion of him remains unchanged.'

 

Although she tried desperately to get her feelings well under control during the next couple of days, Georgiana fervently hoped, as she stood dutifully beside the Dowager Countess on Friday evening, greeting the guests, that the Viscount wouldn't put in an appearance, especially as he had failed to respond to the invitation sent the month before.

After spending over an hour greeting the cream of society, she left her ladyship to welcome any late arriv
als, and sought out Lady Pickering, firmly believing her prayers had been answered.

‘Ah, my dear Georgiana! Yes, come and sit beside me for a while. You deserve a rest. You have been supporting my dear friend quite wonderfully well. How is the dear Dowager bearing up?'

‘She's a little tired, ma'am, but determined to do her duty by doing everything within her power to ensure Sophie's come out is a success.'

‘And yours, too, my dear.'

‘I'm here merely because my godfather wished it,' Georgiana assured her. ‘I have no expectation of making a suitable match. And, in truth, I have no real desire to do so. Which, in the circumstances,' she added, recalling clearly the insult she had received in the park earlier that week, ‘is perhaps just as well.'

‘My dear girl, you must not take any notice of any silly, spiteful rumours circulating. It will not be too long before something else reaches the tattle-mongers' ears, and the piece of nonsense concerning you is forgotten,' Lady Pickering assured her, having considered what might be behind her young companion's negative attitude to marriage.

Georgiana chose not to enlighten her that it was only one gentleman's good opinion that really mattered to her. Instead, she decided to take full advantage of this little tête-à-tête with one of society's recognised leading hostesses by attempting to discover more about one guest in particular. So as not to arouse any suspicion, she began by enquiring about suitable candidates for Sophia's hand, before finally drawing attention to that certain gentleman who had, thankfully, quite failed to recognise her when she had greeted him earlier and who was of most interest to her.

‘I hardly think Lord Rupert Gyles could be considered a suitable candidate for Sophia's hand, my dear,' she said, after the gentleman in question had been pointed out. ‘He's a little too old for one thing. Definitely the wrong side of five-and-thirty. Besides, there's no reason why Sophia must choose a husband from this year's crop. She's only just turned eighteen and would much prefer a younger gentleman, I'm sure.'

‘Perhaps, but Lord Rupert would be considered eligible, surely?' Georgiana persisted, determined to keep Lady Pickering's attention focused on that particular gentleman so that she might discover more about him, for she was well aware that the Dowager, thus far, had had little opportunity to do so. ‘He is the Duke of Merton's brother, after all.'

‘True,' Lady Pickering conceded, before adding, ‘But not his heir, remember. Merton has a son. Apart from which Lord Rupert is an inveterate gambler. Merton makes him an allowance, of course. But even so, it is a wonder how he's managed to keep the duns from his door. He's been known to lose hundreds in a night's sitting and not so much as bat an eyelid.'

Lady Pickering's attention was captured by a new arrival. ‘Ah! Now here is someone far more eligible. Or at least he would be if he hadn't earned himself the reputation of being a hardened cynic where the fair sex is concerned.'

Georgiana glanced across at the door in time to witness the Dowager greeting the two late arrivals, and only just succeeded in suppressing a squeal of vexation. Not only had Lord Fincham, perversely, decided to attend himself, he had also dragged his good friend Charles Gingham along to bear him company. This, she accepted at once, could prove dangerous indeed.
Mr Gingham was one of the few people who might so easily recognise her, and if the Viscount had not already prepared him…?

For a moment or two she toyed with the notion of fleeing the ballroom by way of the French windows, but curbed it. Surely it was better to brazen it out now, she reasoned, rather than attempt to avoid future encounters with his lordship's close friend?

While she was still debating on which course of action to take, the set of country dances came to an end and Sophia decided the matter by coming over to her side.

‘What a charming gentleman Mr Beresford is, Georgie. So very handsome. I do much prefer gentleman with blond locks!'

‘Yes, I can perfectly understand the preference,' Georgiana responded, tongue-in-cheek. ‘I rather fancy I'm rapidly going off gentlemen with my particular coloured hair.'

‘If that is so, pray refrain from revealing it, my dear child!' Lady Pickering advised, suddenly appearing a little flustered. ‘For there is just such a one approaching.'

Georgiana didn't need to turn her head; she knew it could only be Fincham. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his companion momentarily check in his approach and could almost hear his faint gasp of astonished recognition. Yet, when he stood before her, taking her hand briefly in his own, as Lady Pickering performed the introductions, he blessedly betrayed not a sign of ever having met her before, and neither, which came as no surprise to Georgiana whatsoever, did his lordship.