A Scandalous Countess: A Novel of the Malloren World

by Jo Beverley

  In any case, Dracy had dallied with women all around the world. Let him handle this.

  “Lord Dracy, I believe,” Babs said, eyes sparkling.

  “Ma’am,” he said, merely inclining his head. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

  “Ooooh! Was I just spanked? Introduce us, Georgia. I want to dance with this masterful man.”

  Despite himself, Dracy was looking amused, but Georgia wanted to send Babs to perdition. She performed the introductions coldly, adding, “Where’s your husband?”

  “Talking politics,” Babs said, impervious to chill. “Your sister and mother are attempting to harry more men out to do their dancing duty. You should wander by the doors. You’d suck them out like nails to a magnet. But I’m away with my prize.”

  Babs hooked arms with Dracy and left. Perhaps he resisted for a moment, but not for long. Babs was probably just the sort of woman he really liked, the sort of woman he’d danced and dallied with in ports around the world, and doubtless done more. Sailors were notorious.

  “Now, what has you in a glare?”

  Georgia turned to Lizzie. “Men, marriage, everything.”

  “Poor Georgia. I need a word with you.”

  Now what? Lizzie was worried about something, but Sellerby was approaching. Georgia owed him the next dance, but Lizzie came first.

  She gave Sellerby her sweetest smile. “My deepest apologies, Sellerby. My friend has need of me. The next dance—I promise it to you.” She turned to Lizzie. “My room.”

  She led Lizzie out of the room and up to her bedchamber.

  “Lord Sellerby looked fit to murder you!” Lizzie said.

  “And with reason. I’ll appease him. What’s amiss?”

  “Sellerby, for one. I’m sorry, Georgie, but he’s implying that you and he are engaged to marry.”

  “What? Devil take him!”

  “Georgie!”

  “Don’t ‘Georgie’ me. A good curse clears the air. There, I feel better already. I shall return and deny it.”

  “That’s difficult until faced with it, so I came up with a plan. As soon as we’re in the midst of people, I’ll mention the engagement and you can be appalled.”

  “Thank you. I don’t know how to bring him to his senses!”

  “I’m not sure he has any senses where you’re concerned.”

  “He needs another object of adoration. I’ve tried to steer him toward Eloisa Cardross.”

  “Is love so easily steered?”

  “He doesn’t love me or he wouldn’t pester me so.”

  “Now, that makes no sense,” Lizzie said. “’Tis the nature of love to pester.”

  “Dickon never pestered me.”

  “He had no need to. The marriage was proposed and accepted.”

  “He did pester me with gifts,” Georgia said. “Truly, Lizzie, I think the world’s run mad! People thinking I would bed Vance. Sellerby talking nonsense. Babs drooling over Dracy.”

  “Babs enjoys playing with handsome heroes, but you know she’s madly devoted to Harringay. Lord Dracy is a handsome hero, isn’t he? The scar’s quite shocking at first, but then…it isn’t.”

  “If you start flirting with him I’ll know the world’s turned on its axis.”

  “You seemed very happy in his company.”

  “No,” Georgia said. “Dracy has many fine qualities, but he’s impossible.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s poor and a baron. I know it sounds shallow, but I couldn’t be happy in that situation any more than I could if married to a bishop.”

  Lizzie chuckled. “I must confess, a less likely bishop’s wife is hard to imagine.”

  “You see? I must return and give Sellerby his dance.”

  “I’d think you’d want to avoid him,” Lizzie said.

  “But I was maladroit. I refused a dance with him earlier on the excuse that I was unwell. I was merely concerned about Lord Dracy, you see. But then I returned to dance with Dracy.”

  “Oh, that is bad.”

  “So I must dance with him now. What a tangle this is becoming. Lizzie, tell me the truth. How do people regard me tonight?”

  “With great interest. I’m sure it can’t be comfortable, but they are only assessing you anew.”

  “That’s the sum of it?” Georgia asked, sensing more.

  Lizzie grimaced. “Some do think you should still be wrapped in grief.”

  “After a year? How long should my mourning continue?”

  “I know it’s not reasonable, but remember, no one ever saw you in mourning. Lady May disappeared and now she returns, just as she was.”

  “I never thought of that! I did as my parents thought best.”

  “And perhaps it was, but it will take people time. Once they see you dignified and poised…”

  “Dull, you mean. I think it vastly unfair. Dickon would never have wanted it.”

  “Fairness butters no crumpets.”

  “Shouldn’t that be ‘fair words’?”

  “Both apply. Have a care, dearest.”

  Lizzie was serious, which made it worse.

  Georgia sighed for her freedom to be herself. Lost, along with everything else, for simple lack of a son.

  She knew it wasn’t the time, but she had to talk to someone, and Lizzie would leave at dawn to return home.

  She sat in front of her mirror as if to tidy her hair. “I need to marry again, Lizzie, but I fret about children. What if it was my fault? Men want an heir, and I don’t think I can bear to disappoint again.”

  “It could well have been Dickon’s lack. Only consider Lady Emmersham. Ten years barren as Mistress Farraday, but when she married Emmersham, a babe within the year.”

  “Within the seven months,” Georgia pointed out. “Lud!” she exclaimed, swiveling to face her friend. “Do you think they planned it that way?”

  “Planned what? Waited until…? Georgie!”

  “Don’t shriek at me. It makes sense. Emmersham needs an heir, and even if he was mad for her, he wouldn’t want to marry a barren woman.…”

  “No,” Lizzie said.

  “Quite, and so—”

  “I mean, no, you must not. You can’t even think of trying out a husband before you wed.”

  Georgia hadn’t, but now…“If I don’t conceive, I’ve lost nothing.”

  “Nothing? Your honor, your virtue. You must not—”

  “Stop musting me! In any case, it would be more a case of a potential husband trying out me. Only think, Lizzie. Rather than marrying and then waiting every month. Being disappointed every month. Disappointing…”

  Lizzie rushed over to hug her. “I knew it was an anxiety for you, love, but not how much. But you can’t—you can’t. Only think on it. If you don’t conceive with one man, will that settle it? If not, how many men do you sin with and for how long before you resign yourself to being barren?”

  Such an ugly word, “barren.”

  She pulled free of her friend and fussed with her skirt. “I don’t know, but if that day came, I’d marry a widower who already has an heir. Lord Everdon would do. He’s wealthy and shares many of my tastes, and he’s not too old. Not yet thirty, I believe.”

  “By then he might not want you, nor would any other man. People would be bound to discover a string of liaisons. You could end up too scandalous to wed.”

  “Then I’ll be the scandalous Lady May all my life, free as a bird. But then,” she added, regarding herself in the mirror once more, “are peacocks ever free?”

  “They’re notoriously foolish, which you are not.”

  Lizzie was truly distressed, so Georgia turned to her friend, smiling an apology.

  “I’m full of follies and fancies tonight, aren’t I? Don’t fret, Lizzie. I’m sure I don’t mean a word of it. Come, we must return below. Apart from poor Sellerby, if I’m away too long, someone will put a foul interpretation on that.”

  They slipped back down so as to reappear as if from the ladies’ room. Georgia
looked around for Dracy but didn’t see him. She assured herself Babs was to be trusted, and in any case, she owed poor Sellerby his dance.

  Where was he?

  Stokesly invited Lizzie to dance, and Georgia suddenly found herself alone, unpestered by a single gentleman anxious to dance with her. She couldn’t remember such a thing ever happening before. Even Sellerby was staying away. She saw him on the other side of the room looking at her in a strangely cold way. He wasn’t the only one.

  Cheeks heating, she strolled toward the open doors, attempting to look at ease, but aware of being watched in a newly unpleasant way. When she smiled and inclined her head to Lady Landelle, that woman returned the reverence awkwardly and quickly looked away.

  “Georgia, am I fortunate enough to find you free?”

  She turned gratefully to Lord Harringay. “You are.”

  “The world’s gone mad, but to my advantage.”

  He led her to join the end of the long-ways dance. Georgia kept up her smile, but she was desperately trying to understand what was going on. People were definitely cooler than before. Or rather, more people were cooler. Even Richmond’s smile was uncertain as she caught his eye.

  Why? Because she’d been absent with Lizzie? Did people think she’d been off with a man?

  She wanted to confront someone and shake the nonsense out of them. Instead, she smiled and danced as if she hadn’t a care in the world. When the dance was over she’d find someone to explain it all.

  But perhaps she’d imagined it, for here came Sellerby.

  Georgia smiled and offered her hand. “I would have given you that dance, Sellerby, but failed to see you. The next is yours.”

  “Your debt has grown, Georgie. I claim the supper dance.”

  The choice of partner for that was considered significant, and Georgia remembered Lizzie’s warning. “My deepest apologies, Sellerby, but I’m already promised to another.”

  His smile quenched. “You should have preserved it for me.”

  He was speaking for the people nearby, damn him.

  It was no effort to look blank. “Why?”

  “You know why. My dear Georgie, we…”

  “We what, my lord?”

  “The matter is private as yet, I know, but—”

  “Any private matter of yours is no concern of mine, sir!” A mistake to speak so sharply. She tried to sweeten it. “Come, our dance is about to begin.”

  Coldly, he bowed. “I regret, I am promised to another.”

  Her words thrown back at her. Georgia smiled and curtsied. “Alas, sir. Perhaps later.”

  She managed to walk away calmly, but she was seething inside. He’d turned a simple matter into a scene, and perhaps caused the coldness all around by his lies. Was she now a heartless jilt as well as a wicked adulteress?

  Winnie intercepted her to mutter, “Why must you always create scenes?”

  Georgia flicked open her fan. “That was all Lord Sellerby’s fault.”

  “When you play fast and loose with a man…”

  “I have never played fast, or even slow with him!”

  “Everyone knows he was a chief member of your so-called court, and you corresponded with him from Herne during your mourning.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Millicent remarked on it.”

  Her delightful sister-in-law, who’d watched like a hawk for any wrongdoing.

  “I fell weakly into kindness because he supported me to the dowager.” She’d had enough of this conversation and saw an escape. “Ah, Porterhouse. Thank you!”

  Porterhouse blinked, for he’d merely been passing by, but he was far too well mannered to deny her and led her to join the ongoing dance. He was such a good and amiable man, she might marry him if only he had rank and fortune, but at this moment, probably even he wouldn’t want her.

  Had she imagined coldness all around her earlier? She found it hard to tell. In her sister’s house with her powerful parents present, few would be willing to be overtly discourteous.

  As they strolled off the dance floor, however, Porterhouse said, “I feel I should warn you, Lady Maybury.”

  “Warn me?”

  He led her to a quiet part of the room. “People are talking.”

  “Alas, I’ve grown accustomed to that, my friend.”

  “But there’s a new story. About Vance’s letter. The one the dowager Lady Maybury claimed to have seen.”

  Georgia waved her fan and smiled as best she could, but she knew it couldn’t reach her eyes. “Old news and old nonsense.”

  “Georgie, someone here claims to have actually seen it. Or to know someone who has. The rumor is muddled.…”

  “As rumors always are. But here, tonight?” Georgia couldn’t resist scanning the room. “Who?”

  “I don’t know. It could all be false.…”

  “It has to be false. Such a letter couldn’t exist.”

  “But many are believing it. I regret distressing you, my dear, but I thought you should know.”

  She smiled at him as warmly as she could. “Thank you. There was nothing between me and Charnley Vance, Porterhouse.”

  “I’m sure not,” he said, but she suspected even he had a glimmer of doubt. “I’m afraid I must seek my partner for the supper dance. Shall I escort you to your mother?”

  Refuge of the wallflower and the outcast.

  “Thank you, but no. I have a partner for the dance.”

  He bowed and walked away, leaving Georgia feeling alone in a completely new way. People were believing this ridiculous rumor, which meant they had been ready to believe it. Even after a year, most of the beau monde still thought the worst of her. She needed to return to Town, to regain her life, but for the first time she really wondered if Town would accept her.

  And she had no partner for the supper dance.

  She’d intended to grant it to Beaufort, but she saw he was paired with Lucy Pomeroy. Richmond was looking delighted by pretty Miss Horstead. And there was Sellerby, watching her with what she could only call a smirk. Was he preparing to offer as her last chance?

  She’d rather eat glass.

  Chapter 14

  “Our dance, I believe, Lady Maybury?”

  Georgia turned, feeling faint with relief, but she addressed Dracy with a touch of annoyance. “Ah, there you are, my lord. I thought you’d abandoned me.”

  “Never, Lady Maybury, I assure you.”

  She remembered that she shouldn’t encourage him toward a broken heart, but at the moment she was too weak to do anything but cling to his arm.

  He led her forward, but she held back. In the square room there were two lines and Sellerby was asking Miss Cranscourt to dance. The middle-aged lady was blushingly grateful, and Georgia waited until they took their places in the right-hand line before moving to join the left.

  “Lord Sellerby is to be avoided?” he murmured.

  “Eternally.”

  “I thought him a favorite of yours. Indeed, I’ve heard mention of an engagement.”

  “He lies!” Georgia heard it come out as a hiss.

  “Swords at dawn?” Dracy asked, amused, but then said, “I apologize. An unfortunate reference.”

  “Believe me, Dracy, I would punish Sellerby if I could.”

  “Peacock feathers at dawn, then. My money would be on you.”

  He made it all light, and that soothed her. “That’s as foolish as being flogged by eyelashes.”

  “What?”

  They had to separate, however, to stand opposite in the line.

  Beaufort was in this line, just a few down from Dracy, and Everdon farther along. She might have seen that as promising a little while ago, but now she was too aware of the way many people weren’t meeting her eye.

  The dance began, and she focused on Dracy alone. He danced so beautifully, even dressed well with a little encouragement, and had a rare ability to create the illusion that she was safe.

  She was shocked at the direction of her own th
oughts.