by Rose Pearson
A sudden, frantic urge caught him, and Oliver found himself practically running towards the few steps that would lead him into the ballroom directly. He had not seen Lady Georgiana as yet, but surely she would be here! This was one of the most extravagant balls of the Season, his cousin had said, and everyone of importance would be present.
Aware he was being a trifle rude in how he pushed through the crowd, Oliver let his eyes rove from one side to the other in search of her, his heart beating at a furious, frantic pace. A little to his right, he saw the mistletoe bough and felt his stomach twist with eager anticipation.
“Good gracious, Mr. Lowell!”
Oliver came to a dead stop, seeing how Lady Allerton held up one hand with the other hand clutching a glass of champagne. She stepped back from him just in time, with only the tiniest drop of champagne escaping from the glass. He had practically walked straight into her.
“I apologize, Lady Allerton,” Oliver said at once, a little flustered. “I am looking for Lady Georgiana.” Looking into her face hopefully, he saw how her expression clouded.
“Lady Georgiana is...” the lady sighed and looked away. “She is present this evening, Mr. Lowell, but I fear you will not find her in good spirits.”
Oliver frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“Who can say?” Lady Allerton replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “Lady Georgiana will say nothing. Her eyes are downcast, her expression sorrowful, but she will say not a word.”
A deep sense of worry began to climb up Oliver’s throat. “I should speak to her,” he said half to himself as he looked around the room for her. “I do hope that after our last conversation, she has not thought ill of me.” Perhaps, he realized, she had been upset with what he had done in kissing her hand, or perhaps Lord Poole had berated her after he had left. Either way, he prayed he was not the cause of her upset.
“I—I must ask, Mr. Lowell,” Lady Allerton said hesitantly as he returned his attention to her. “Was anything said between you at this last meeting? Or did Lord Poole say anything to upset her?”
Now it was Oliver’s turn to hesitate. He saw Lady Allerton’s eyes flicker as if she had known that something had occurred but did not quite know what that something was.
“Lord Poole was a little upset that I was speaking to Lady Georgiana,” he admitted slowly, making certain not to mention the gentleman had seen him kissing Lady Georgiana’s hand. “He came over almost at once, and had it not been for Lady Georgiana’s introductions, I think he might well have lashed out at me.”
Lady Allerton’s eyes flared wide.
“Not that he did, of course,” Oliver continued quickly, not wanting to give a false impression of the gentleman. “Once Lady Georgiana had introduced me, he seemed…less inclined towards violence.”
Pressing her lips together hard, Lady Allerton shook her head mutely.
“I will say he did not think well of me, however,” Oliver finished with a small, sad smile. “I am not a gentleman, of course, and he made his disdain quite apparent.”
Lady Allerton looked away. “I am sorry for that,” she said quietly, clearly a little embarrassed. “Lord Poole appeared to be an excellent gentleman, if not a little cold in his manner, and both Lord Allerton and I thought him a suitable match for Lady Georgiana.”
“But why does she need one?” Oliver found himself asking, earnestly. “Why should you push her into something like that? Why not let her choose her suitor?”
Lady Allerton’s eyes grew sad. “Because the ton does not yet trust my husband,” she said making Oliver stare at her in surprise. “It is not because he is deemed to be devious or the like, but rather that his monies were once very low indeed.” She lifted one shoulder. “That is why he had to marry me. The ladies of the ton were not about to look to a well-titled but poor Earl—so, therefore, an arrangement was made, and I was sent over here.”
“I see,” Oliver said slowly, a little overcome with surprise.
“The ton does not forget things easily,” Lady Allerton continued, with a sigh. “The gentlemen of the beau monde will not consider Lady Georgiana for fear that her brother will have no good dowry for her.”
“And that is considered to be important?” Oliver asked, a little disbelieving. “You are telling me that a gentleman might find Lady Georgiana to be quite wonderful in every way, but due to her smaller dowry—or due to the fear that her brother will not provide one for her—he wouldn’t consider her?”
Lady Allerton nodded, her expression grim. “That is it precisely, Mr. Lowell,” she told him, making him shake his head in astonishment. “It is all the more difficult to understand when you realize that Lady Georgiana herself had nothing to do with it.”
Oliver felt something within him tighten as a faint anger brushed over his skin. He was angry with the ton, angry with their foolish ways, and their demeaning of others based on very little indeed. He was angry with Lord Poole for treating Lady Georgiana as though she had no right to stop and speak to a friend whilst he himself strode ahead of her, clearly giving her very little attention. And he was angry with himself for allowing his heart to become filled with her when he knew he could do nothing about such feelings.
“Oh, there she is!” Lady Allerton gestured somewhere over Oliver’s right shoulder, and he turned to see her being led from the floor by a gentleman he did not know. The gentleman was smiling down at Lady Georgiana and, whilst she smiled back at him, there was no sense of true happiness that came from her. Instead, he thought, there was something guarded about her expression, something hidden, something held back. He watched her carefully as the gentleman brought her back to Lady Allerton, seeing the widening of her eyes as she saw him standing there.
“Good evening, Lady Georgiana,” he said bowing quickly. “And good evening to you also, sir.”
The gentleman grinned, bowed, and excused himself almost at once, claiming he had to go in search of his next dance partner. Lady Georgiana stood quietly for some minutes, looking from right to left as though expecting someone else to come to greet her.
“Did you enjoy your dance with Lord Ferguson?” Lady Allerton asked as a small silence grew between Oliver and Lady Georgiana. “He is an excellent dancer by all accounts.”
Lady Georgiana shrugged delicately. “He is a very good dancer, yes,” she admitted, her voice soft but her eyes not even drawing near to Oliver. “I was to dance the waltz with Lord Hunter, but I have only just now seen him leaving the ballroom.” Her expression darkened for a moment. “Most likely, he will be making his way to the card room.”
Oliver seized the opportunity. “Then I should be glad to dance with you in his place,” he said at once, bowing quickly. “Shall we make our way to the floor, Lady Georgiana?” Putting out his hand, he looked down into her face only to see how her eyes darted away as if he were chasing her. She looked trapped, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her shoulders hunched and her head down.
“Lady Georgiana?”
His voice was softer now, trying to pull her out of whatever this difficulty was, but Lady Georgiana did not appear to want to be pulled free. Instead, she shook her head, making Lady Allerton stare at her in surprise.
“You don’t want to dance with me?” he asked, lapsing back into less formal speech for a moment, such was his surprise. “Why not? What have I done wrong?”
“Nothing!” Lady Georgiana’s eyes shot to his and she took an involuntary step forward, her hands unclenched and reaching for him—only for her to realize what she was doing, drop her hands to her sides, and squeeze her eyes shut. A ripple of pain ran over her expression, and it was all Oliver could do not to reach forward and take her hands, wondering why she appeared so upset.
“Georgiana,” Lady Allerton said softly, clearly worried for her sister-in-law. “Whatever is the matter?”
Lady Georgiana swallowed hard, opened her eyes, and let her shoulders lower down slowly. “Nothing is wrong,” she answered, seeming very calm. Her eyes caugh
t on something behind him, watching it closely for some moments, and it took all of Oliver’s strength not to turn around to look at whatever it was.
“Mr. Lowell.” Her eyes turned back to his, looking into his face with a steadiness that surprised her. “I would be glad to accept your offer of a dance.”
“Oh.” For a moment, he stood there, mute, only to realize what she had said. Such had been the swiftness of her change of heart it threw him for a moment or two. It was only when she reached out a hand he collected himself, clearing his throat gruffly and taking her hand in his. She went willingly, a gentle smile on her face that did not quite reach her eyes. When the music began, Oliver took her in his arms and felt his heart roar with a new, fresh passion that burned all through him. Yet, as he let his gaze rest on her troubled expression, he felt something begin to steal the happiness from him.
“Something is troubling you, Lady Georgiana,” he said unequivocally, as they began to spin around the floor. “Won’t you tell me what it is?”
Lady Georgiana swallowed hard, her lips trembling as her eyes darted away. “I—I have nothing to tell you,” she said softly. “Everything is quite all right.”
“But I do not believe you,” he told her quietly, seeing how they came near to the mistletoe bough, forced to slow as some couples stopped for a moment so the gentleman might pull a berry from its branches. “Something is troubling you, and I am afraid it has something to do with me.”
Her eyes shot to his. “In what way, Mr. Lowell?” she asked a trifle tersely. “I do not understand what you mean.”
“Since our meeting with Lord Poole, your sister-in-law says you are quieter and almost sorrowful,” he told her, seeing Lady Georgiana bite her lip as they twirled around the floor again. Leaving the mistletoe bough behind, Oliver thought to make another turn around the floor before approaching it again. “Was that my doing, Lady Georgiana?” he asked softly. “Did I offend Lord Poole?”
She shuddered violently, to the point he almost stopped dancing, but as she tightened her hands in his, he was practically forced to continue.
“Lord Poole was not very happy with what he witnessed, Mr. Lowell,” Lady Georgiana said, her voice so quiet he had to strain to hear her. “Consequently, I am not to be seen with you again.”
The truth was given to him so quickly, it took Oliver a few minutes before he was able to comprehend what Lady Georgiana had said. His steps began to slow, his eyes fixed solely on her, but Lady Georgiana would not so much as look at him. Her head lowered, her eyes tight to his chest so she would not have to look up into his face, despite Oliver’s unspoken desperation she do so.
“Why are you dancing with me, then?” he asked quietly, his chest tight with anger. “What if he sees this?”
“He will not,” Lady Georgiana answered as they neared the mistletoe bough again. “He is gone from the room.”
Oliver wanted to close his eyes in frustration, realizing that this was why Lady Georgiana had been willing to dance with him in what had been a very quick change of heart.
“I am not staying away from you for my sake,” Lady Georgiana said urgently, her stormy eyes now lifted to his, “but for yours.”
“For my sake?” he repeated, somewhere between anger and confusion. “What do you mean, Lady Georgiana?”
Her throat worked for a moment, but she did not look away. Oliver realized they had come to the mistletoe bough, and reaching up, plucked one of the berries from it before stepping aside. Lady Georgiana was out of his arms now, the music continuing, but with the crush of couples all trying to get near to the mistletoe bough, it was easy enough for them both to leave the dance floor without being noticed. Practically cradling the berry in his hand, Oliver took Lady Georgiana’s hand and drew her a little further into the shadows, knowing that most of the ton’s attention would be on those who still remained, watching to see who might steal a kiss.
“What do you mean, Lady Georgiana?” he asked again, coming to a stop and turning so she faced him, her eyes now a little glassy with what he supposed to be tears. “I do not understand.”
Lady Georgiana closed her eyes tightly, and, to his horror, a single tear ran down her cheek. Unable to help himself, he reached out and brushed it away gently, feeling his heart racing as he touched her smooth skin. The way his whole body reacted to her nearness reminded him of just how much he had come to care for Lady Georgiana, even though he did not want to feel anything for her. It could not be denied. It was there, deep within himself, and no longer something he could hide from himself.
“Lord Poole has said that, should we be seen together, then he will make sure to ruin you,” Lady Georgiana whispered, her eyes still closed but seeming to lean into his hand as he ran it down her cheek. “He states he will have you return to America in disgrace and that your shame—whatever it is he intends to do—will touch even Lord and Lady Rutledge.” Her voice began to shake with the depths of emotion that was so obviously in her heart. “It is not my desire to push you away, Mr. Lowell, but I can see no other choice.”
Everything in Oliver wanted to go and find Lord Poole and to shake him senseless for making such a cruel demand. And, at the same time, he wanted to pull Lady Georgiana into his arms and tell her just how much he had come to care for her, how appreciative he was of her willingness to protect him.
“That man is not worthy of you,” he told her firmly, aware of the surprise in her expression as she opened her eyes to look at him. “He is a cruel man, Lady Georgiana. Why would you marry him?”
“I—I have no other choice,” she whispered, a little sorrowfully. “My brother—”
“Surely there is someone here within the ton who will overlook your brother’s financial difficulties!” he exclaimed as Lady Georgiana shook her head miserably. “Good gracious, gentlemen here are truly more foolish than I first thought!” He caught himself, hearing his voice rising and knew he had to remain as quiet as he could. “What I mean to say is, Lady Georgiana, that to base one’s marriage on the money one’s wife can bring to it does not say much about the state of one’s heart.” Taking a small step closer, he looked down into her eyes and felt his heart ache for her. “Lady Georgiana, I do not care about money.” It was not what he had intended to say, not what he wanted to say, but there was something about speaking with such honesty that felt right, that lifted his spirits. Lady Georgiana’s eyes flared as she looked up at him, her face a little pale.
“I have this.” Holding up the mistletoe berry, he looked into her eyes questioningly. “I think I am right about what is expected.”
A tiny smile caught the corner of her mouth as a slight flush rose in her cheeks. “You are not quite correct, sir,” she told him, a slight lilt to her voice. “The kiss is meant to be taken under the mistletoe bough.”
Oliver’s voice was husky. “Then you will not grant me it?”
Lady Georgiana hesitated, her eyes searching his. “It is not that I want to stay away from you, Mr. Lowell,” she told him, stepping forward and putting one hand on his chest, sending sparks all through him. “I want only to protect you and your cousin.”
He nodded, thinking to himself he had never met a creature as wonderful as this. “And I, Lady Georgiana, do not intend to ruin whatever it is you have planned for your future, only to suggest there might be a different path for you to take.”
Her shoulders slumped, a despondent look in her eyes. “What different path might that be?” she asked him sorrowfully. “I can see no other way forward.”
Oliver acted at once, pressing his hand over hers and seeing how her head lifted at once. “America is very far away,” he told her, softly. “Far away from all the scandal and the ruin that might come from following one’s heart.” He could see from the look in her eyes she understood what he was offering her but did not want to press her into making a decision straight away. “I am not afraid of Lord Poole,” he finished, holding up the mistletoe berry before pressing it into her hand. “Nor should you be.”
Lady Georgiana acted before he had a chance to think. Her lips were pressed to his, her hand about his neck and her fingers in his hair. Such was his surprise it took Oliver a moment to collect himself, to rest his hands on her waist, to pull her lightly to him—and then she stepped away from him and was gone. Not another word was spoken, not even another look exchanged. The imprint of her lips on his was all that lingered, making Oliver sigh with both contentment and frustration as he tried to find her in the crowd, wondering if he had just made everything worse by doing such a thing as stealing a kiss.
But I do not regret it, he told himself, firmly. For the rest of my life, I will never regret stealing a Christmas kiss from Lady Georgiana. It was a magical moment, thanks to the mistletoe.
His heart lifted just a little, although his anger and his upset over Lord Poole still remained. With dulled spirits, Oliver turned quietly around, keeping to the side of the room as he made his way through the ballroom and out towards the carriages.
It was time for him to go home.
Chapter Nine
Georgiana held her breath as Lord Poole moved slowly around the room, his eyes never quite landing on her. Ever since Mr. Lowell had kissed her last evening, she had felt herself growing more and more anxious, afraid of what Lord Poole would say when he next came to call. Something within her feared he knew what had occurred between herself and Mr. Lowell, afraid he had discovered it either by his own eyes or by hearing it from another. At Christmastime, such kisses were whispered and talked about at length, but there were never any lasting consequences, given it was Christmastime, and the mistletoe bough practically demanded that kisses were given and received.
Although perhaps with a little less passion than was displayed last evening.
Heat rose in Georgiana’s face, but she pushed the feeling of embarrassment away at once. There was nothing wrong with what she had done, she told herself. She had given in to her feelings of affection towards Mr. Lowell and had done something that had felt quite natural. It was a magical moment. In fact, it had overwhelmed her senses, had taken everything from her, and had sent spirals of affection deep into her heart.
