The Kiss of a Viscount (The Daughters of the Aristocracy) (18 page)

George nodded to a curbside tiger who immediately took his reins and the coin George offered him. Hurrying to the other side of the curricle, George at first offered one hand, and then, when he realized how far his passenger would have to step in order to get down, he lifted his other arm. She stepped down carefully, finally allowing George to grasp her waist and lower her until her feet touched the walk. That moment, when she was suspended in mid-air, her only support his hands on either side of her waist and one of her hands on his shoulder, Elizabeth felt as if she was weightless. She tried to imagine Gabriel lifting her down from his phaeton, wondering how it would be to have the earl’s hands on her waist as she floated down.

In her reverie, she hadn’t noticed George moving to assist Anna, who shyly thanked him and moved to stand behind her mistress. George offered Elizabeth his arm, smiling as he did so. “We may have to wait a few minutes in a queue before being allowed to go in,” he apologized. “The Bassae Frieze is proving to be a popular exhibit.”

Elizabeth nodded her understanding. “My father mentioned it is quite spectacular.”

Not surprised that Lord Morganfield had already visited the recently acquired frieze, George dared another glance in Elizabeth’s direction. “So, his lordship saw it but did not take you along?”

Elizabeth smiled at the comment. “He took my mother, of course. I was ...” She paused, wondering if she should admit she was at her charity’s office. He knew of the charity; Charlotte had made that quite clear during Lady Worthington’s ball.

Noticing her hesitation, George leaned his head down a bit and whispered, “Working, perhaps?”

A shiver passed through Elizabeth at the sound of his whisper. The words could have been a taunt, a tease of sorts, given those in the
ton
weren’t supposed to perform work of any kind. But the manner in which he’d made the comment was more of a compliment – an acknowledgement that what she did was important. “Yes, I suppose it could be called that,” she agreed. They entered the building and moved toward the long room where a series of marbles were on display. “It doesn’t seem like ...
work
, though. The time flies by whilst I’m there. And there are so many that need help. I want to help them all, but ...”

“In just helping
one
, you have made a tremendous difference, Lady Elizabeth,” George interrupted. If she was allowed to say what he thought she might, he was sure she would feel impotent – that despite her best efforts and all the money she could ever receive from patrons, there would always be more crippled soldiers than jobs that could accommodate them. George knew she could never be allowed to think that what she did was hopeless.

“Have I?” she wondered, pausing to look up at him.

“Indeed,” George replied. “Teddy Streater is right as rain. I never thought he would be the same as he was before ... before the war,” he got out, the comment catching in his throat just a bit. “And his new arm is quite impressive,” he added, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “One must watch him very carefully to see that it isn’t real.”

Elizabeth gasped, not having seen Theodore Streater since the day she’d secured his position at the Bank of England. “I should like to see him, George,” she replied. “Do you suppose you might be able to arrange it?”

Smiling, George nodded. “Of course, milady,” he answered, thinking that if she agreed to be his wife, then Teddy would stand with him at the wedding. She could see him then.

George guided Elizabeth and her maid to the entrance of a hall that contained the twenty-three panels that made up the Bassae Frieze. Apparently taken from the Temple of Apollo in the Arcadian hills in Greece, the series of marbles depicted the Amazonomachy and Centauromachy battles. They had been imported and set up around the perimeter of their own room at the museum, although it was difficult to tell if the panels were in any kind of order. As George wound them through the crowds of morning patrons, he wondered if the sight of nude statues would offend Elizabeth. They turned to look upon the first set of statues in the collection. George held his breath for a moment, not sure if he should have warned her about the state of undress of the figures represented in the friezes.

“Oh,” Elizabeth breathed as a hand went to her mouth, covering the perfect ‘o’ her lips formed. Anna was a bit more vocal in her surprise, though, quickly clasping a hand over her mouth to stifle a shriek. A naked warrior looked as if he was being attacked by a Centaur, one of his arms missing. What could have been a headless woman in a robe was next to the Centaur, and beyond that was a robed man, his head also missing.

George could feel Elizabeth’s eyes on him as she first studied the statuary and then him.
Is she comparing my body to what she sees?
he wondered. He was tempted to call her out. But he didn’t want to embarrass her. The statues were larger than life size, so he hoped she would take
that
into account as she compared all the body parts. At least the warriors that still had complete sets of genitalia weren’t too well endowed.

“It’s too bad so much is missing,” she spoke in a hoarse whisper. Blinking, George wondered if she was referring to those specific body parts or the statuary in general. “And it appears as if the marble was colored at one time.”

He led them through the hall, where friezes were displayed end to end around the entire room. They occasionally stopped to view a particular frieze, especially if it was more complete. Anna seemed most disturbed by one of the Amazons, who had apparently been killed and was being taken from the battle, her torn gown leaving a naked breast on display. George kept part of his attention on Elizabeth, wondering what she was thinking as she looked at the same scene. “Are you alright?” he asked her
sotto voce
.

Elizabeth glanced up at him, her face flushed. “I am,” she replied with a nod. “It’s all so very ... powerful. The carving has captured so much movement and emotion.”

A bit relieved at hearing her description, George relaxed and moved them to the next section. And so it went for another hour as they walked around the room, weaving their way through the crush of people, before exiting the hall and moving on to the Towneley collection. There they walked around the Discobolos, a marble of a discus thrower.

“His head looks as if it had to be reattached,” Elizabeth murmured, trying to keep her gaze from settling on the naked man’s genitalia. 

George angled his own head and nodded. The seam where the repair had been made was quite evident. “And he’s looking in the wrong direction,” he whispered, moving so his lips had to be close to Elizabeth’s ear as he made the comment. “His head should be pointed back, so he’s looking at the discus.”

“Oh,” she replied with a nod. They passed by a few more Grecian statues, of gods and goddesses in various poses, a Roman caryatid, a cupid, a satyr and a nymph, a bust of Homer, the head of Clytie, a large vase, a Venus, a sphinx and a marble of two boys quarreling over a game of knuckle bones. George allowed his gaze to settle on Elizabeth as she moved from each display, wondering what she thought of the statuary.

When they finally took their leave of the museum, George escorted her on his arm. “I do hope you enjoyed the morning,” he spoke as he assisted Elizabeth into the curricle. “I found the exhibit quite interesting.”

Elizabeth afforded him a smile. “It was indeed.”

Once Anna was seated in the back, he hopped up and took the reins from the boy who held them. “Any trouble?” he asked the youth as he fished another coin from his pocket.

“No, sir,” the boy answered, shaking his head. “But a gentleman asked me to give this to Lady E,” he said as he produced a wrinkled pasteboard from his pocket.

George heard Elizabeth’s inhalation of breath. He realized too late why she should be surprised. Other than the few who she had helped or done business with while setting up her office, who knew of her real identity? She reached over and took the card from the boy, nodding as she did so. “Thank you,” she said before she read the bold text.

Waiting patiently – George figured Elizabeth would offer the name on the card if she wanted to – he touched the crop to the back of the horses and merged the curricle into traffic.

“Do you know Mr. Avery Whittaker at the Bank of England?” Elizabeth suddenly asked, her attention on something far ahead of them. Her brows were furrowed, as if she was deep in thought and not quite sure of something.

Turning his head to regard his passenger for a moment, George shrugged. “I know
of
him, but haven’t had the pleasure of an introduction.” When she didn’t reply right away, he asked, “Is everything alright?”

Elizabeth half turned toward him, the card still gripped in her gloved hands. “He was the man I paid so that Mr. Streater could gain back his old position at the bank.”

Remembering Teddy’s description of what Elizabeth had done that day, George realized she was referring to the bribe she’d paid on his friend’s behalf. “Go on,” George replied carefully.

“And he has written here that he has another position available.”

George considered the way in which she made the statement, as if it bothered her somehow when she should have been happy to know she could help another unemployed man. “That’s good, right? You can place another wounded man into employment.”

Despite knowing that George knew of her charity, Elizabeth was still surprised at his comment. “Yes. Yes, it is,” she replied softly. She was sure the position would require another bribe, though. How many other positions would Mr. Whittaker have in exchange for a bribe?

“Or, perhaps it is not,” George said suddenly. He reconsidered the situation. Was Avery Whittaker looking to make a windfall on the bribes Lady E would be willing to pay to place her clients? “Do you consider Mr. Whittaker an honorable man?” he asked then, keeping his eye on traffic and glancing in her direction when he could afford to do so.

Elizabeth sat very still for a long time, not immediately responding to George’s question. “My impression of him was not ... favorable,” she admitted, turning her attention to George. She watched his profile as he expertly drove the equipage through the busy traffic. When he glanced again in her direction, she almost looked away, not wanting to be caught staring at him. But she was caught. She held his gaze for a moment before George had to look away so he could steer them around a costermonger selling oranges at the edge of the street.

“Then do not do business with the man,” he said with a shake of his head. “There are plenty of other employers who may not require payment for their positions. Or, at least not twenty guineas.” He continued driving the curricle around various slower vehicles until they were on a wider street that afforded more room.

“Could we ... could we go for a walk, George?” she wondered then, her manner still suggesting she was pensive.

“Oh, course, my lady,” George said, a grin lifting his eyes. They were off at a fast clip, passing carts and horses and carriages on their way to Rotten Row. Once in Hyde Park, George maneuvered the curricle onto a side lane, parking it under a large oak that afforded a patch of shade for the horses and for Anna, who dozed in the back seat. He jumped down to the ground and quickly hobbled the horses before moving to the other side of the curricle.

Elizabeth’s hand trembled as she placed it into George’s hand. A look of concern passed over his face as she stepped down from the curricle. “Is there something wrong, my lady,”  he wondered, his brows furrowing in concern. Aware that her half boot didn’t yet have a solid purchase on the curricle’s upper step, he reached over with his other hand to place it at her waist. Just as she slipped, he let go her hand and caught her waist in both hands as she fell. He slowly lowered her to the ground, surprised that she did not seem to notice her precarious situation. He held her until he was sure her feet were on the ground.

She suddenly let out a startled gasp.

“Lady Elizabeth?” he added quickly, seeing her lower lip quiver as he let her down. He was about to offer his arm but instead stood facing her. He gave a quick glance in the direction of Anna, noting her closed eyes. She was resting against the squabs, oblivious to her mistress’s distress. He quirked a brow at Elizabeth, wanting her to at least say
something
before he moved to escort her along the tree-lined path.

“Forgive me, George. I just ... I am ...” She paused for a moment and then looked up at him, her eyes bright. “I am nervous,” she blurted, her face pinking up with her admission.

Taken aback, George stared at her for a long moment. “I assure you, Lady Elizabeth, you have no reason to be nervous. We are just going for a stroll.” He stopped when he noticed her attention was not on him, but her face had turned that beautiful shade of pink she seemed to display when embarrassed. Leaning so his forehead nearly touched hers, he added, “And, I promise, I will not attempt to steal a kiss.”

That comment got her attention.

Elizabeth’s face turned up suddenly, so that her parted lips were mere inches from his. “You won’t?” she questioned, the tone of her voice indicating disappointment. Her eyes were wide, their aquamarine coloring clear in the autumnal midday light.

Now truly confused, George pondered how to respond. If she wasn’t nervous about the prospect of him kissing her, what had her so addled? “Well, that is, unless ... unless you
want
me to. And then I shall happily oblige you, of course.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Though I would recommend we wait until we are out of your maid’s line of sight before doing so.”

Her face brightening, Elizabeth nodded and moved to put her hand on his arm. “I apologize, George. I am not nervous about kissing, truly.” They began walking, George’s eyebrow cocking up at the comment. “It’s just that, I wish to speak with you about a topic of some ... delicacy.” There was something about having seen so many naked bodies that seemed to embolden her, she realized. Even if they were carved in marble and missing several parts.