by Josie Bonham
Barton was already waiting near to the main door.
“You must be tired,” Max said, “I don’t mind if you give a footman the door opening duty tonight.”
Barton drew himself up to his full height. “This is a momentous evening, my lord. I wouldn’t dream of deserting my post.”
“If you insist, Barton. Thank you.”
Max tucked her arm in his and drew her towards the door of the sitting room. The sound of music filtered out to them. They found Sally practising on the piano.
“That piano has a lovely sound, Max.”
“My mother loved her music. My father had it shipped over from somewhere on the continent, I forget where, at enormous expense.”
A wave of regret washed over Georgie. It would be lovely if Max thought enough of her to go to that sort of trouble for something which he knew she would enjoy. At least he was acting as if their argument of the night before hadn’t happened. Perhaps because his family were there but it made the atmosphere between them more bearable. She changed the subject.
“You all call Mr Breakwell, Charles. Is he a relative?”
“No, but my father and his uncle were great friends. I first met him at school. I was in my last year when he arrived. There was some sort of family feud between his father and uncle. I took him on as my secretary straight from university. His father had died by then and I persuaded his uncle to receive him. They’ve been the best of friends ever since.”
They heard the sound of a carriage drawing up and took up their position between the door and the sitting room. Georgie sighed. Max was so kind and considerate to other people and yet he was ready to believe the worst of her. She was distracted by the sound of laughter on the steps outside. Barton announced the first family.
Georgie knew a moment of terror. How would they receive her? She had been so busy with the arrangements she hadn’t stopped to think about the people she would have to meet. She needn’t have worried. All the families seemed cheerful sorts and disposed to like her. Max was subjected to several congratulatory slaps on the back and she received some fulsome compliments from the local squire but she was satisfied she had made a good impression.
Inside the sitting room Max drew her into the quietest corner. It was still a struggle to hear him with the noise of greetings amongst people who hadn’t met for a while.
“Georgie, I forgot to ask you if you can dance.”
“I certainly can.” She felt rather affronted. “I had lessons with some friends when I was young and I told you we spent over two years in Canterbury.”
“Good. Sally wants us to open the dancing.”
He walked up to the piano and raised a hand. He was a good half a head taller than most of the men there and people quietened down quickly.
“Lady Wakeley has agreed to play for us so we can have some dancing. Tables are set up in the library for those who prefer cards.”
Several of the older people present disappeared towards the library and the rest found chairs around the periphery of the room. Sally was walking around organising dance partners. Georgie tried to hide a smile as she half dragged Rollo over to a very young lady who appeared completely tongue-tied.
Max joined her. “Sally has strong views about making sure young people, especially the girls, are comfortable with dancing before they arrive in London.”
“Are these families likely to go to London for the season?”
“Yes, in the main. The young lady Sally has bestowed on Rollo is a friend of Cecilia. The poor girl is dreadfully shy.”
Sally made her way back to the piano and announced that Lord and Lady Hargreaves would start off the dancing.
Georgie had always loved dancing and tapped her toe in time to the introductory bit of music. Max took her hand and she caught her breath at the feelings that shot through her. Dancing had never been as intoxicating as this. Other couples joined in and she gave herself up to enjoying the music. When the dance finished Max led her over to Eliza, sitting at the edge of the floor.
Eliza pulled her into the vacant seat next to her. “I could shoot Rollo. My ankle isn’t quite ready to stand up to dancing and that looked such fun.”
Georgie forced a smile. “Max says some of these families will be going to town for the season.”
“I’m sure he’s right. He’s chosen well. They’re all good-natured souls and some are friends of the Fordhams.” Eliza lowered her voice. “Don’t worry about London, Georgie. I’m sure it will all work out.”
She nodded. “As long as you’re there I shall cope. I had better go and attend to my hostess duties. Should I circulate amongst the older guests?”
“That would be well received.” Eliza gave her hand a squeeze. “You’re a natural at this.”
“I hope so. I’m terrified.”
She spotted the Armstrongs talking to the squire and his wife. That would be a good place to start. She stayed chatting to them for a while. With the noise of the dancing it was impossible to talk about anything intimate so she didn’t have to worry about them noticing her unhappiness. The next group were easy to talk to as well. Before she could join anyone else, she heard Sally say that this would be the last dance before supper.
Max came alongside her and pulled her into a set that was forming. When they finally came to a breathless halt she realised she was actually enjoying herself. She glanced at Max but his expression was too inscrutable to read. Was he enjoying dancing with her?
Max tucked her hand in his arm. “We need to lead everyone into supper.”
Georgie nodded and they made their way to the dining room. Oh. So that was why he had danced with her again. Her happy mood evaporated. It was no good thinking Max was thawing towards her. He was simply doing his duty as a host. She concentrated hard on maintaining a cheerful front. She thought she had succeeded until Eliza caught up with her and led her to a chair.
“Come and sit. You will be worn out. That forced gaiety doesn’t fool me. You two have had a setback, haven’t you? I said as much to Nat yesterday but he wouldn’t have it.”
Georgie felt like crying. What if everyone had noticed?
As if she could read her mind, Eliza leant towards her. “Don’t worry no one else will notice. We can’t talk here but, if you need some advice on how to handle my pig-headed brother, I’ll be happy to help as soon as we meet up in London.”
The rest of the evening passed in a daze for Georgie. She stood with Max to see their guests off. He released her arm as soon as the last one had left.
“I’ve challenged Nat to a game of billiards.” He nodded to her and walked off.
She had been right not to read too much into his show of unity. At least she had survived the party and tomorrow they would be on their way to London.
Chapter Twenty Two
Nat was already in the billiards room, playing against Rollo. Max flopped onto a seat with a good view of the game, glad of an opportunity to relax. The evening had gone off better than he could have hoped for but the effort of appearing part of a loving couple had taken it out of him. Young Rollo was a promising player but Nat was still too good for him. They shook hands and Max watched a disgruntled Rollo slide out of the room.
Nat strolled across to him and grinned. “Rollo doesn’t like losing. He reminds me of you when I first knew you.”
“Good Lord. I hope I’ve never been so petulant in defeat?”
Nat raised an eyebrow at him and smiled.
“I’ll take that as a challenge. Come on it’s time for our game.”
They were well matched normally and a tired Max put up a valiant fight, not wanting to appear too jaded. Nat eventually won by a small margin.
“Well done, Nat. It’s bed for me now.” He ignored Nat’s sly smile. “I need some sleep ready for tomorrow. Don’t think you can lie in too late in the morning, will you? I want to have all visitors gone in time to set out by midday.”
“You’re keen to get away. Is everything alright? I thought Georgie seemed exhau
sted tonight when she thought no one was looking.”
“Everything is fine. She’s upset by the episode with the Powell woman.” Max rolled his shoulders back to try and ease the tension in them. “Once she meets Mrs Mills, I’m sure it will ease her worries about running a large household.”
“What happened then?”
“Charles agreed with me that it was better to move Mrs Powell on now. Georgie happened to come into the breakfast room as we were talking to the wretched woman, who caused quite a scene.” It was near enough to the truth to be hard to refute and he didn’t feel like confiding in anyone, not even Nat.
“I see. As long as the dry weather holds, we’ll be in London two or three days after you. We’re breaking the journey with friends.” Nat narrowed his eyes at him. “I’ll be happy to help if you want any advice.”
Max stalked out of the room. He didn’t want to hear any more. He ran up to his room and slammed the door behind him. Fortunately, Jepson had obeyed instructions for once and taken himself off to bed. Should he visit Georgie tonight? He rubbed a hand over his temple to ease his throbbing head. It was all too much and despite his cravings for her he needed a good night’s sleep before they set off for London. He threw his clothes over a chair and clambered into bed.
Thoughts of Georgie kept intruding as he tossed and turned. A vision of Lavinia telling him she wasn’t looking forward to sleeping with him, when she was still warm from another man’s bed, hit him like a physical pain. At least Georgie had adhered to her side of their bargain, uncomplainingly, when it came to the bedroom. Although did her willingness in that area suggest she hadn’t been the complete innocent she professed to be? Damn Nat for setting him thinking about it all over again when he had managed to find a measure of calm. He was as bad as the servants in taking Georgie’s part. They were all a bunch of fools. Weren’t they?
Max awoke the next morning feeling as if he hadn’t been to bed. He did a series of stretches to loosen tense muscles. If he felt like this now what would a few hours in a coach do to him? Why not ride? He had opted to split the journey over two days and a quick glance out of the window showed the weather to be dry. He rang for Jepson and dressed in riding clothes. There was no sign of Georgie down at breakfast. A message from the stable did nothing to lighten his mood.
“Bad news?” Nat asked.
“Nothing serious. My horse has a swollen leg so will have to stay here for a while. My spare had to be retired a few weeks ago. I’m hoping something in the new batch of Irish horses will suit me later in the year. I’ll look for something in London to tide me over. I must ask Georgie if she can ride.”
Nat gave him a hard look. “You never were much good at choosing horseflesh. You’d better wait for me before you select anything.”
Max laughed. “I admit you have a particularly good eye for horses but I’m not that bad. I’m taking my deputy head groom to London with me too.”
“Do you mean Larkin?”
“Yes. If he settles in London, I’m planning to make him my head groom there.”
“Excellent choice and if I’m not available you won’t go too far wrong if you take him with you.”
Max relaxed as Nat fell into a discussion about horses as he’d hoped. Nat was too perceptive for comfort. Perhaps he was right and he had been too hard on Georgie. It was something he would give some thought to, but in private.
Nat and Eliza left with their entourage straight after breakfast. The Fordhams followed shortly after but not until Sally had annoyed him by taking him apart for a little chat. Even Sally had fallen under Georgie’s spell it seemed. Perhaps not surprising given how kind Georgie had been to Cecilia. Could they all be wrong?
His headache of the night before started niggling at him as he waved them off. Georgie was nowhere to be seen but Sally told him she had already said her goodbyes. Could she be avoiding him? She had appeared a lot quieter lately. He kicked at the edging of a flowerbed, dislodging a stone. He bent down to replace it. Lord, he was so confused. The coach rumbled out of hearing and he went down to the stables. An excited Larkin was checking on the horses while the family coachman did the same for the travelling coaches. He called Larkin across.
“How’s Indigo faring?”
“It’s nothing that won’t mend with rest.”
“That’s good. I don’t suppose there is another horse I could ride for the first stage to London is there?”
Larkin bit his lip. “I don’t think we have anything else up to your weight, my lord.”
“I was afraid you’d say that. We’ll have to see about buying some more horses in London.”
Larkin’s face lit up. “My uncle works on a stud in Oxfordshire. Their horses are the best and they have a batch ready to sell.”
“Will those be young horses?”
“Yes, my lord. They will be well trained though.”
“That might do for me but I expect Lady Hargreaves will want an experienced mount. I’ll think about it. Would they mind if we posted up to Oxford from London and had a look if we can find time?”
“I’m sure they will be happy to see us, my lord. They like to know their horses have gone to good homes.”
“Excellent.” He nodded at Larkin who touched his cap and carried on with his work.
He walked back to the house whistling. He had forgotten about Larkin’s uncle. Horses from that source were always sought after. This might be a chance to steal a march on Nat. If he was allowed to, he might buy some more carriages horses as well. Nat would be green. It would also be a good excuse to get away for a couple of days if he needed to. His mood sobered. When he had first married Georgie, he would never have envisioned wanting to find excuses to get away from her.
At last they were on the road. Georgie looked startled when he joined her in the coach.
“Are you not riding at least the first section? My uncle always liked to.”
“I’m afraid my horse has a sore leg and I haven’t got around to finding a replacement for the one we had to retire a while ago.” He glanced down at his long frame and smiled ruefully. “None of the horses the grooms use to take messages and so on are able to carry a large fellow like me.”
Georgie gave him a brief but genuine smile. “Being tall does have its advantages. You found it easy to get everyone’s attention when we were dancing last night.”
“True, but I must purchase a spare horse. That reminds me, you need at least one mount too.”
“I’ve never learned to ride. I drove a gig around my uncle’s parishes from when I was quite young.”
“We’ll have to arrange some lessons for you. That will be best left for when we’re back at the Hall. What about driving? Is it something you enjoy?”
“Oh yes. I’m held to be an excellent whip.” A blush rose up in her cheeks. “Oh dear, that sounds boastful.”
“Not if it’s accurate.”
They took a sharp bend and he was thrown against her. His whole body came to life at the touch of her soft body against his. Why had he shunned her bed last night? Hours spent in close company with her were going to be agony.
He said the first thing that came into his head to distract himself. “Perhaps we could get you a phaeton to drive in London.”
Her face lit up. “I should like that. Could I have one drawn by two horses? I’ve always wanted to drive a pair.”
“It’s harder than a single horse but I could teach you.” What had he done now? There was no going back on it. Her face was glowing with excitement.
“That would be lovely.” A cloud passed over her face. “I don’t want to be a nuisance if you’re too busy.”
Max considered her carefully. Had she just skilfully manoeuvred him or was she genuinely that self-effacing. She was waiting for his answer.
“Why should I find teaching my wife to drive a nuisance? It will be a few weeks before we can have a lady’s phaeton made for you and find horses. I’ll start the lessons as soon as we have.”
“Thank you
. I shall look forward to that.”
He nodded. “My pleasure.”
He lowered his head as if trying to rest. He had better pray she was the woman all his relatives thought her to be, or his heart would break into little pieces. The only way to find out for sure was to get to know her better. If they were wrong how would he bear it?
His coachman was a cautious soul in winter conditions and they trundled along at a slow pace. He smiled at the thought of the younger driver in charge of the coach travelling behind them, which carried their luggage and servants. His patience would be sorely tried by the time they got to London. He was woken by the lurch of the coach as it turned into the yard of an inn.
He was leaning into Georgie and threatening to squash her. He pulled himself up straight and looked out of the window.
“Good Lord. Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that but this is our first stop. I must have been asleep for hours.” Georgie smiled at him and his heart missed a beat.
“Around two hours I would say.”
They were back in the coach and on their way within a few minutes. The sky was clear and it was near to full moon. Max gave permission for the second coachman to set off in front. They were little more than an hour away from their destination for the night. He couldn’t help smiling at the stolid resistance of their driver to reaching any pace much above a trot. Jepson would have everything organised by the time they arrived.
He could feel the heat of Georgie next to him and passion shot through him. If only they had been in better accord, he would have risked seducing her in the coach with the other coach bowling along in front. He stole a glance at his wife. This time she was the one with her eyes closed. He almost wished he had never found out about her links to Mrs Powell. They could have had so much fun. As it was, his only contact with her was when she nestled against his shoulder.
She didn’t wake up until they reached their destination. The inn looked surprisingly full for the time of year. People were taking the opportunity to travel whilst they could. With the clear sky temperatures were already dropping. They would have to take care on the last leg tomorrow. He shook Georgie gently awake. She turned startled eyes towards him.
