"Goodness yes," Seymour said, tutting and shaking her head. "It's a pity but you are the image of your mother."
"Oh, Aunt," Céleste reproached her. "But she is a great beauty, how can you say it is a pity?"
"Because it is!" the old lady replied with a huff. "Much better for the child if she'd been unexceptional. Then people wouldn't be so quick to judge and compare. But looking like that ... well, they'll all say the Siren's been born again." She pointed her quizzing glass at Georgian, punctuating her words as she waved it at her. "You'll need to be beyond reproach, girl, do you understand? They'll be watching your every move, waiting to see if you show the slightest sign of following in your mother's footsteps."
Georgiana nodded, knowing she was right. "Yes, Lady Russell, I do perfectly understand. I promise I will do everything I can not to bring embarrassment to you or your family."
To her surprise the old lady gave a bark of laughter. "As to that! I assure you my nephews have blackened the family name enough to withstand anything you might bring down on us."
Georgiana smiled, as terrifying as she was you couldn't help but warm to the earl's outspoken aunt. "Well, I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your support, and that of the earl and Lady Falmouth. I feel blessed indeed to have such champions at my side."
Lady Russell gave her an approving nod. "Yes, you'll do. And you're welcome. I'd like to say you won't need us but you will. You'll have to be brave, brazen it out, you understand."
Georgiana felt her stomach twist but she nodded. "Yes," she said, hearing the tremble in her own voice. "I understand and I will do my very best."
***
The weather continued to be bleak and unpleasant and worsened as a thick fog descended on the capital. Some days it was so completely dark even in daylight, that coachmen were obliged to get down and lead their horses by lantern light. Reports of the Spa Field riots in Islington in early December seemed to echo the air of discontent that hung over the country as a whole as grey skies and freezing temperatures kept England feeling grim and grey.
Christmas came and went far too quickly and it was with a heavy heart that Georgiana bid goodbye to her aunt and uncle. Despite everything going on outside of Lord Falmouth's home, they had enjoyed a wonderful holiday. Lord and Lady Falmouth were gracious and generous hosts, and Georgiana and her aunt and uncle only too ready to be pleased by everything.
Little by little, however, the time passed and the weather improved, and the ton began to return to the capital. Georgiana knew that soon she would have to face them and this pleasant little interlude would be over. In a way she welcomed it. The fear of her come out had seemed to glower on the horizon for the last months and now she just wanted it over with. Of course what she wanted more than anything was to find Beau and let him know everything that had happened to her. That she was now an heiress. That she was not so very low born after all ... that they could be together, if it was still what he wanted. The thought of course crossed her mind that he would want nothing to do with her when he discovered who she was. She was sure she had often read his name linked to the current Duke of Sindalton. They were close friends if the scandal rags were to be believed, and that might make things more than a little awkward but ... if he truly loved her, as he'd said he did. Surely, nothing could keep them apart?
Chapter 15
"Wherein the fates cause trouble and our heroine sets a dog among the pigeons."
Sebastian ran up the stairs to find his mother's companion white-faced and agitated, waiting for him outside her rooms.
"What's happened?" he demanded. He was well used to his mother's bouts of ill health and her nervous dispositions but the summons today had seemed rather more urgent that usual.
"Oh, oh dear," the idiotic woman said. "Oh goodness me!" A distant and impoverished cousin, Lady Rush was as hopeless as she was bird witted and never ceased to annoy Sebastian with her dithering and predictions of doom.
"Never mind," he said, striding past her and giving a brief knock before entering his mother's rooms.
He found his mother laying prostrate on a fainting couch, attended by her dresser who was applying a cool cloth to her forehead that smelled strongly of vinegar.
"Mother?"
She looked up with a small cry and reached out her hands to him as her maid snatched up the cloth before it could fall into her lap.
"Oh, Sebastian, what are we to do?"
"I don't know, dear," he said, quickly realising he would have to gather his patience to get to the bottom of whatever tragedy had befallen them this time. If it was anything like the last time, it was probably one of her revolting little pug dogs going missing again. "Why don't you tell me what is troubling you and I'll see what I can do?"
"Oh but it isn't me that I'm concerned for," his mother said, her large brown eyes full of sorrow. He gave her frail hands a gentle squeeze, hoping to encourage her to get to the point. "My poor, poor child. Oh, I knew this day would come. I just knew it! Oh your wicked, wicked father. How could he do it ... how?"
Good God, she was back onto that was she? Whatever had got her in such a pelter? He glared at the maid who shook her head, clearly disowning any portion of blame. He had long since banned any talk about his dead father or the circumstances surrounding his untimely demise as it was guaranteed to send his mother into one of her spasms. The results of this could be felt by the entire household for many weeks and he often wondered that such an apparently weak and feeble female could hold him and his entire staff to ransom when she indulged on such an emotional spree.
"What on earth has father to do with anything?" he asked, striving to keep his voice even when he was getting the strong urge to shake someone until they explained what was going on.
"Because he ruined us all with ... with that evil woman!"
"Mother that was almost twenty years ago now. No one speaks of it anymore, it is old news I assure you. We have weathered the storm."
"No!" she said, with such passion that he was quite taken aback as she sat forward, gripping his hands with considerable force. Her eyes were febrile and not for the first time he feared for her sanity as she began to rage and rant. "No we have not! It is all coming back again. She is coming back again! She's come to haunt us, to ruin us, to ruin you!"
"Who's coming back?" he demanded, wondering if she had finally descended into madness as he'd always suspected she might.
"The Siren!" she shrieked, gasping for breath and clutching at her throat.
"Agatha, get the hartshorn and mother's vinaigrette," he ordered.
"She's had the hartshorn already," the poor harassed woman replied, thrusting the vinaigrette under his mother's nose. "But she's been beyond anything since she saw that wretched scandal sheet." He watched, relieved as his mother spluttered but seemed to calm a little and lay back on the couch breathing hard but steady.
Sebastian's face darkened. "Dammit all!" he raged. "How many times do I have to tell you to keep the bloody things out of her reach? Show me, and then run and fetch Doctor Alperton, tell him it's an emergency."
The white face dresser shoved a crumbled news sheet into his hands and ran for the door. With a cold feeling running down his spine like ice water he read the report that had caused his mother's breakdown.
Rumours abound that the daughter of the notorious Lady D, otherwise known as The Siren - the voluptuous red head that led the esteemed D of S to his demise, is lately in town. Chaperoned by the Earl and Lady Falmouth, it appears the young woman possesses a remarkable likeness to her beautiful and fiery mother. It only remains to be seen if she resembles her in other ways.
The new Lady D is apparently an heiress of some considerable fortune. Fortune hunters beware, who will be the hunted here?
Nausea swirled in his stomach. God no. Not now, not after all this time? For that whole sordid scandal to have to be relived all over again. He remembered being told that the woman had left her child to run off with his father, but he'd never given it another thought
. Hadn't even known if it was boy or girl. It had never crossed his mind that the child would have the audacity to face the ton. There was a part of him that admired her pluck. After all it was her mother's sin, not hers, and if it hadn't been his own family about to suffer he could have felt sympathy for her.
Well the bitch needn't think that he would smooth her way. He would cut her and refuse to acknowledge her, and where he led many if not all of the ton would follow.
Worse was the realisation that Falmouth was behind this. This was without a doubt his punishment for what he'd done to Céleste. He had read with great relief and incredulous surprise the news of their marriage last autumn. He had tried hard to take Céleste from the earl, even resorting to some underhand measures which were not at all his usual style. But he had not the slightest doubt that the bastard was enjoying every minute of his revenge. He crumpled the newspaper, throwing it across the room in disgust and putting his head in his hands.
God what a mess. For a moment the longing to run back to Georgiana was so great it was as though his heart was being crushed in his chest. He gave a snort of amusement as he considered his innocent beauty. He had never heeded Jeffries’ warning about his red-headed sweetheart, but that another fiery haired woman should enter his life and turn it upside down for such different reasons seemed beyond fair.
He started as his mother laid her frail hand on his shoulder and he turned to look up at her.
"Don't go near her, my darling boy. Her mother took your father from us both. She ruined us and I have the most terrible fear that her daughter has come to finish the job."
"Mother!" He took her hands again and planted a kiss on her forehead. "You're getting yourself in a silly state over nothing. Of course I won't go near her. I shall give her the cut direct, and then see how long she'll last here. No one will receive her." He smiled at her and tried to impart a calm that he was far from feeling. The dreadful days following his father's death seemed to be parading through his mind. The fear and the terrible sorrow he'd had at the loss of his wonderful, charismatic father. The guilt that he'd felt as he realised he must hate him for what he'd done. And after that the very real anger that he had done it - his father had left him and mother alone for a woman, and he'd died for it. "Come now. This will blow over in no time at all, you see if it doesn't. We shall be quite comfortable again, I promise you."
***
Georgiana looked out of the window at a bright blue sky and gave a sigh of longing. At home she was used to walking miles, either to visit neighbours or just for the joy of being outside and in the fresh air. No amount of mud or cold could convince her to stay indoors and here in the city, she felt the restrictions of life chafe her. Her limbs felt heavy and dull from lack of exercise and a pitiful, heartfelt sigh from Conrad as he stared wistfully out the window beside her was the last straw.
"You're quite right, love. We both need some exercise or we'll fall into a fit of the dismals and then where shall we be?"
Conrad gave a short and joyful bark of agreement and began to jump about in circles as he realised a walk was in order.
Lord and Lady Falmouth were both out this afternoon, having been summoned by Aunt Seymour, and Georgiana had been only too pleased to cry off visiting the intimidating old woman. She had promised she was quite happy to sit at home and read by the fire, but surely a walk with her dog should be unexceptionable if she took the precaution of having a footman with her?
With the satisfaction of one still unused to wearing the latest fashions, Georgiana fastened her new holly green merino redingote and arranged the matching silk hat with untrimmed velvet upon her bright red curls. A pale green ostrich feather curled in a becoming fashion over the brim and as she pulled on a soft pair of York tan gloves she professed herself satisfied. She turned and took Conrad's lead from her designated footman, who was in turn wearing an air of deep disapproval.
"He seems a touch excitable, my Lady," he said, looking at Conrad with dismay. "Perhaps it would be wiser if I held onto him, at least until he settles down."
"Nonsense," she said with a bright smile. "He hates men as a whole and he'll behave even worse if you take him I assure you. He's just not used to being restrained you see." She bent down and gave Conrad a scratch behind his ears. "Are you, my poor little love? Yes, yes, we're going. Come along."
At first their walk passed off with no problem at all and Conrad even deigned to allow the footman, whose name Georgiana discovered was Thomas, to hold him while she did some small items of shopping on the way. First she stepped into Floris on Jermyn Street, ostensibly to buy a new toothbrush, but did not find herself greatly surprised when she emerged with a new bottle of perfume.
She had been called as much by the lovely blue glass bottle, engraved with butterflies as by the scent itself. But once the fragrance had been presented to her she had to have it. A light citrus with a hint of orange blossom and something spicy she couldn't quite place. Handing her carefully packaged treasure into Thomas' care, she took hold of Conrad again and they carried on until they turned the corner into Piccadilly where the lure of Hatchard's book shop was simply too much to resist. She had been itching to get her hands on the new novel by Miss Austen. Emma had been published just before Christmas and as yet she hadn't been able to buy a copy.
It was with a rather guilty conscience that she emerged from the delights of the glorious shop where she could have happily spent the entire day - a full half hour later. Both Thomas and Conrad looked very put out indeed as the footman gratefully exchanged dog for book. With a promise to herself to return another day without Conrad she went to walk on. Unfortunately Conrad seemed to feel that his patience deserved rather a greater reward.
They were just passing Fortnum and Mason and it would have to be admitted that the most tantalising smells issued forth from inside the elegant façade. Indeed since they had been in London, Conrad had become perfectly enamoured of Scotch eggs and would do almost anything to lay his jaws upon one. This became only too apparent as he began to pull and tug at his lead with such vigour that Georgiana tripped and would have fallen if she hadn't been caught by a strong pair of arms. With a gasp she looked up, and then up a bit more at the vision of a golden, blue-eyed Adonis.
The two of them stared at each other for a moment, both of them startled, before Georgiana realised the impropriety of standing on a busy street in the arms of an unknown man.
"I do beg your pardon, Sir," she said, flushing and trying to straighten her bonnet. "Oh ... my dog ... Oh!" With a rush of horror she realised Conrad had disappeared behind the door of the elegant façade where even now, shrieks of alarm could be heard. "Oh good Lord!" Without giving the handsome man a second glance she ran into the shop in hot pursuit.
Chapter 16
"Wherein an imposter is discovered."
Georgiana surveyed the chaos laid out before her with mounting panic and clutched at her footman's arm.
"Oh, Thomas, we must get him back!"
"Yes, my Lady," the man replied with a frown before casting himself into the fray. Georgiana ran to the grand staircase and stood on tiptoe and tried to see if she could find any trace of her wretched dog. A moment later she found him, enthusiastically engaged in trying to liberate a hamper from a very red faced man who was just as enthusiastic in trying to hold on to it.
"Oh no!" she muttered in horror, before running across the room and hoping to grab hold of the idiotic creature. Too late. A moment before she arrived and the clasp on the hamper ripped apart in his vigorous jaws and a multitude of cold meats, cheese, dried fruits, and, heaven help them ... Scotch eggs, went flying over the red carpeted floor.
Conrad was in heaven. As far as her misbegotten dog was concerned it was raining manna from heaven and he ran around snaffling up the goodies as fast as his fervent nose could seek them out.
"Oh dear, I'm really most desperately sorry," she said, approaching the red faced man with caution as he looked like he would suffer an apoplexy at any moment.
Georgiana took a breath, awaiting her fate as the short, stout fellow drew a breath and prepared to vent his spleen, when the Adonis who had caught her just moments earlier stepped up to her.
"If you would allow me," he murmured in her ear, before bestowing her with a devastating smile which he in turn brought to bear on the old man about to tear her off a strip. "General Denton," he said, holding out his hand. "Well I say, what a chance that it should be you my wretched hound has set upon. I am most dreadfully sorry. Dear, dear, what a to do! But never fear, I will have someone replace your hamper forthwith, and what's say we pop in a nice bottle of burgundy to go with it, as an apology you understand."
Georgiana watched with astonishment as her handsome young hero deflected each furious attack from abused shoppers and turned it into something that somehow became the most charming anecdote for them to chuckle about with their friends. Standing back at a safe distance she couldn't hear what was said but indeed everyone seemed to know him. Thomas returned Conrad to her with a grimace which she had every sympathy with, but she couldn't tear her eyes from the amusing scene in front of her. By now a group of ladies who had wanted Conrad's head on a platter were laughing and flirting with the Adonis in the best of spirits.
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