They teased each other about their drawn chess game, promising to wreak revenge upon each other at the earliest possible opportunity. Georgiana demanded a prize for the winner and to her delight, Oliver readily agreed. There was a warmth between them that she had never felt before, she was transported back, again, to those moments in the stone folly in the gardens, when nothing had seemed more important than being with each other.
As she studied her dashingly handsome companion, she had the sense that Oliver truly accepted her as an equal. It was almost intoxicating and she suspected that she might have to pinch herself occasionally to see if she was dreaming.
As the evening drew to an end and the Duke bowed gracefully to his friends and acquaintances before leading Cordelia from the room, and up the stairs to the privacy of their chambers.
Cordelia looked about for Georgiana, and smiled when she saw her, looking tired but happy, standing with the Marquess of Dartworth. Perhaps Georgiana had found a man to care for, after all.
There was plenty of wine, fresh punch and bottles of excellent cognac to keep the guests refreshed and the musicians were willing to play on until dawn if required. Georgiana tried to stifle a yawn as she rose from her seat.
“Rest assured that it is the hour and not your company that fatigues me, Oliver.”
“But you need your rest, my Lady, and I should return to my lodgings in the village or the landlord will suspect I’ve run away without settling the rest of my account.”
They laughed together as he, all propriety in a moment where he dearest wish was to sweep her into his arms, escorted her to where Miss Millpost dozed in a quiet corner – close enough to be regarded as a chaperone, but intruding on no-one.
“Goodnight, fair Georgiana. I cannot thank you enough for the kindness of your heart and the gentleness of your spirit. I am feeling far less unhappy with my lot than I was when we began our conversation this evening.”
“Will I see you again soon, Oliver, or must I cause another duel to rouse you from the Inn?”
“Perhaps only time will tell, my Lady.”
He reached for her hand, and quite improperly, to her delight, turned it over, and placed a kiss upon her palm, his lips lingering far longer than they should. Warmth spread through her whole body.
“I thought that you wished to be unexceptional, to avoid scandal and gossip, my Lord?”
Her eyes sparkled as she spoke.
“Oh, I do, my Lady, yet in your presence I cannot help but forget myself.” He smiled, and his eyes met hers. “I promise you, Lady Georgiana, that I will return for further conversation, and that chess game, and, perhaps, even to be a little improper again, in the very near future.”
He raised her hand, which he had not released as they spoke, to his lips and then laid it upon his cheek for a moment. Then he smiled at Georgiana and turned on his heel towards the magnificent marble entrance from where he would summon a groom to bring his horse from the stables.
She watched him leave and, in her heart of hearts, she wondered if she would see him again, if he would be true to his words, or if his disillusionment with the English aristocracy would, in the end, take him from her.
~~~~~
After the week of fairly regular conversations with Dartworth, both Setford and Gerald had reached the conclusion that he was the perfect man for the job that Setford had in mind. With the Duke’s wedding done, all of the guests would be leaving, so time was of the essence. They had decided to call upon Dartworth that morning, and raise the subject of him providing such a service to the crown.
The Inn was quiet when they entered, but Dartworth was seated at a table in the small private parlour.
“Good morning, Dartworth. I hope you don’t mind us joining you. I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Setford, Tillingford – pray, be seated. Although I can’t imagine what you would need to discuss with me, I am happy to have your company.” They settled at the table and called for coffee. Once they had been served, Setford rose, and closed the door firmly. Dartworth looked at him enquiringly, but said nothing. When Setford had resumed his seat, he spoke quietly.
“Dartworth, I have seen, over the last few weeks, that you are an honourable man, not the revolutionary hothead those foolish gossips would paint you as. I have also seen that you are a man who cares both for his people here, and for the fate of all people. You have seen past the nobility’s horror of the common man and frankly assessed the results, good and bad, of what you have seen in the Americas. I value your ability to do that.”
“Thank you for your faith in my good sense, my Lord. It is a faith few hold.” Setford laughed at Dartworth’s dry tone, appreciating the man’s ability to assess even himself fairly.
“I am about to ask something of you, which will require every ounce of good sense you have. Let me say, before I ask it, that you are, of course, to do what you wish – this is a request, and it may not sit well with you. But I am hoping that it will, and that you will see your way clear to assist me.”
Dartworth obviously found this a startling statement. For so long, others had presumed to try to dictate his path, so that the contrast between them, and the attitude of Baron Setford, now, was shocking.
He nodded, and waited for Setford to continue.
“Dartworth, what I am about to tell you is most confidential. But I trust that you will honour my confidence in you. Let me be blunt. I have, for many years, assisted His Majesty’s Government in the gathering and assessment of information. Information that allows our most senior men to make the right decisions, to succeed in sensitive negotiations, and to choose actions that protect our nation. Obviously, that is not a task that I can do alone. Many men assist in this work, each in the way that they are best suited to. Tillingford here, is one of those who works with me, and has given sterling service to his country for many years. He also feels that you are the right person for what I am about to ask of you.”
Dartworth shot Gerald a surprised look, wondering just exactly what tasks the man had carried out for the crown.
For, if he understood Setford’s words aright, Setford was a spymaster, at the heart of the most secretive part of the country’s defence.
“I am, again, honoured by your good opinion of me. I will, of course, honour your trust.”
“Excellent. Now, my request is, in itself, fairly simple. I am asking you to travel to America, for some months, to assist me. The peace is still fragile, and the British government would prefer it not be broken. Peace is better for both nations. We believe that there are opportunities to make it stronger. But we need current advice from someone accepted there.”
“I will not do anything that leads to more fighting – that would be madness. But am I correct in understanding that you are asking the opposite – you are asking that I provide intelligence that would allow a stronger peace?”
“Exactly m’boy, exactly. There is talk of a new treaty, to remove the threat of naval action on the Great Lakes, and to resolve the continual arguments about the exact border between the United States and British North America. But to negotiate such a thing will be difficult. We would wish to understand the mood of the people there, and know, before we begin, that there is a chance of a successful negotiation. I need a man who understands the place - to go, to observe, and to report back. That’s the sum of it. Would you be willing to do this?”
“Why, I would most certainly consider it. I have been thinking that I should, perhaps, go back there, but I am torn – now that I have the means, I want to restore my estates here to good condition. If I went, there would need to be allowance for managing my estates here, somehow, whilst I was gone. And… what reason would I give, for my travel? For to observe, surely, I will need a reason to be there, to talk to many people?”
“Both of those issues can be addressed, I believe. There are men that I know and trust, who could assist with your estates here. And, as for a reason for travel – I have a contact who is a very succ
essful merchant. He is most interested in discovering what trade will and will not work to his business benefit, now, with all this talk of tariffs and constraints. He might even consider travelling with you – your contacts would be as much use to him as to me.”
“I will need time to consider this.”
“Of course. I expected so. I will call upon you at Dartworth Abbey, a few weeks from now, to hear your decision. Do, please consider this seriously, for, I believe, you can, if you do this, serve the best interests of both the British and the American people.”
So saying, Setford rose, they bid each other a polite farewell, and left Dartworth alone, again, musing on this startling conversation over the last of his coffee.
~~~~~
Oliver sat for quite some time, his mind in turmoil. What Setford offered was very tempting – he had judged Oliver’s character well – to be able to support something for the benefit of both nations was very appealing. He was so sick of all of the discussions that insisted on the benefit of one at the expense of the other. But… If he went, if he acted upon the idea, rather than just thinking it, he might never see Georgiana again.
He could not bear the idea. In that moment, he realised, quite clearly, that he loved her. That the very idea of spending his life without her was abhorrent. He had been such a fool, being maudlin and bemoaning his situation last night, when he had the chance to spend time with her, when she had, already declared her feelings for him. Now that a chance to actually return to the Americas was presented to him, it no longer seemed so appealing. Yet… he wanted to do as Setford asked, to see people and places again, now with money in his pockets and a chance for a changed life.
He could not, however, make such a choice until he had seen Georgiana – he had to know if she would accept him first.
And, if she would… could she bear for him to be away from her for months? All the tumbled thoughts he had suffered through a night of poor sleep now seemed ridiculous. There was only one thing to do. He must present himself at Canterwood Park without delay.
The morning after the wedding was cooler, and the sky was heavy with cloud as the day promised rain. Georgiana woke from her deep dreamless sleep with sore feet from her dancing efforts and a feeling of immense sadness, as if she had lost something precious that she might never find again. The chambermaid noted her mood and asked if everything was well with her Ladyship. Georgiana smiled at the girl. Servants, they know and see everything, she thought to herself. There can be no secrets in a great house such as this, with so many eyes constantly watching everything and so many ears listening to every word.
She longed for her own house again. As the chambermaid made up the fire to keep the chill off the room, Georgiana’s thoughts drifted back to her lands and she wondered how the people were coping under the new farm manager. Was he a kind man? Or was he another hard-hearted and ruthless slave-driver who only sought profits from the labours of her tenants. She was sure that her estate manager would try to keep things in balance, but still…
The sooner she could return, the better it would be for everyone. Her eyes closed again, and she drifted into a half dreaming state, as the flames crackled in the fire grate and the chambermaid hummed a pretty country tune.
She saw herself in her father’s house, the comfortable furniture and familiar items all arranged exactly as she had left them. The windows were freshly cleaned and spotless and bright sunshine was filling the drawing room with beams of warmth and light. Tiny motes of dust floated, golden and sparkling, suspended in the sunlight. Fresh flowers filled the vases on the elegant tables, lending their sweet perfume to the air, blooms that she had cultivated and collected herself, mud on her dress and soil beneath her pretty fingers. She remembered her father’s laughter when he saw her, gently chiding her for her peasant girl appearance, smiling at her with all the love a devoted father could muster.
She turned her head in her dream and saw a little girl, a blonde-haired child of about five in a pretty dress, playing with her dolls on the polished floor. Without a word being spoken between them, Georgiana knew instantly that this was her own child, a bright and pretty poppet of a child with wide and curious eyes and a quick and ready smile for her doting mama. The vision filled her heart with so much joy that she felt it would burst. She could not contain her elation. Then she heard a voice in her dream and she turned to see the man who was calling her name. It was Oliver, standing in the doorway with a little boy perched securely on his broad shoulders, their beautiful son and first-born child.
“Mistress?” the voice shattered her dream, bringing her back to the bedchamber at Canterwood Park.
For a moment, she was unsure of where she was and who was calling her.
“Mistress?” The chambermaid was gently calling to wake her. A second maid stood beside her, a girl who normally worked in the downstairs rooms.
“Pardon me, your Ladyship, but you have a visitor waiting downstairs and I was asked to see if you were awake. The visitor is waiting upon you in the drawing room and, may I say that he is a most handsome gentleman indeed.”
Georgiana’s curiosity was piqued as she tumbled out of her bed and quickly washed herself in the hot water that the chambermaid had just brought to her room. A visitor? She dared not hope, but she dressed as quickly as she could and almost fell to the floor as her dainty shoe caught in the hem of her gown. She calmed herself and took a deep breath before she stepped out of her chambers and walked as gracefully as she could down the long corridor. ‘Oh please’, she thought, ‘let it be Oliver!’ She was fighting the urge to run and certainly did not want to trip again and measure her length along the elegantly decorated hallway.
A burly manservant nodded at her approach and silently opened the doors to the elegant drawing room. Miss Millpost was sitting, quiet in the corner, ready to do her duty as chaperone, but Georgiana did not even notice her, for, standing by the fire, with mud flecks on his elegant boots, was Oliver.
Georgiana made a small curtsy, feeling suddenly flustered and unsure. Oliver, looking serious, and somehow very nervous, made his bow to her.
“Good morning, my Lord. Have you risen so early simply to fulfil your promise to me, or do you have other business that you wish to discuss with me?”
Oliver looked at her without speaking, the weight of his words too heavy to escape from his heart. Seeing how serious his face was, Georgiana feared the worst. He was leaving. He had come to the house to bid her farewell. She would never see him again. She stared at him but her vision was partially blurred by the tears that threatened to fall.
“Does my presence so distress you that you are moved to tears, my Lady?”
“I cannot imagine what could possibly cause me to weep.” Her voice was tremulous, filled with emotion, and she was having the greatest difficulty maintaining her composure. “Yet if you have ridden all this way to speak to me, pray delay no longer and tell me whatever it is that you wish to say.”
Oliver hesitated for a moment before stepping forwards and taking her hands in his. He looked into her tear-filled eyes.
“Dearest Georgiana. I am the world’s biggest fool and I have barely slept a wink all night.” She looked at him, still uncertain, and a single tear drop landed upon his broad hand. “Georgiana, I cannot imagine a life without you. I love you and cannot think of anything other than being with you.” She stared into his beautiful eyes and wondered if it would be possible to drown in those twin pools of blue. “Georgiana,” he continued. “My love, my life, will you marry me?”
For a moment, it seemed as if the world had stopped spinning upon its axis. Her breathing had stopped. Her heart had ceased beating.
The birds had stopped singing, and she was certain that they were floating motionless in the damp air. Everything became utterly and completely still. She moved her mouth and it seemed that no words would come out.
And then she forced her lips to move.
“Yes.”
The word was ever so softly spoken, bar
ely escaping her mouth, yet it was enough to spin the world instantly back into action. Georgiana took a breath, and said it again, and again, and again, until she was shouting it at the top of her voice. Oliver wrapped her in his arms, spinning her about, holding her so tightly that she thought he might easily snap her stays. And she loved it. They hugged each other like children and then he held her face in his hands and kissed her so gently upon her lips that she thought she would faint completely away and swoon into blissful unconsciousness.
They were laughing with joy as they ran to find Cordelia. Miss Millpost followed, still seeing to propriety, but her face was lit with a smile. Cordelia was endeavouring to create order out of chaos as she organised a small army of servants to pack the bags that would accompany the Duke and his new Duchess on their wedding trip.
“Georgiana! It’s a madhouse here and Philip has taken this last opportunity to go hunting with his friends, before they all return to their homes, whilst I attend to the packing.”
She was laughing at the absurdity of the situation when she registered Oliver’s presence, and his firm grip on her sister’s hand. Georgiana appeared to be clinging to that hand as if her life depended upon it.
“Cordelia, I have important news to share. Are you ready? Oliver has proposed.” Georgiana rushed the words out, desperate to share her news.
Her sister stared at her as she absorbed the information.
“And I have accepted.”
Cordelia continued to stare as if Georgiana was speaking a foreign language.
“We are to be married!”
Suddenly the message made its way beyond the barrier of Cordelia’s distracted thoughts of packing and registered fully in her mind.
“You’re getting married? To Dartworth?”
“Yes, and you’re supposed to congratulate us, you delightfully demented Duchess!”
Cordelia rushed forward to hug her sister and plant a kiss on Oliver’s cheek.
“Congratulations to both of you. My stars, Georgiana, you do like to surprise people, do you not? I can’t wait to see Philip’s face when I give him the news.”
Redeeming the Marquess: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 6) Page 14
