‘Georgia, I want you to come with me.’
Her heart was pounding so fast she could almost hear it in the still night air.
‘To New York?’ she gasped.
He nodded.
‘I can’t do that. It would be . . . improper,’ she said, searching for the right word.
‘I want you to come as my wife.’
‘Wife?’ she said, hardly able to breathe.
‘Marry me,’ he said simply.
Georgia felt her heart stop, then begin to hammer.
‘W-what? Really?’
Edward grinned.
‘I think the correct response is “yes”. Perhaps I didn’t do it right, but I fear that if I get down on one knee, one or both of us might come careering off the roof.’
‘Don’t worry, we’ve got hold of each other,’ she whispered as he took her hand and squeezed it.
‘Let’s get off this thing,’ he said, and they inched off the terrace back into the small bedroom.
Inside, they stood motionless for a minute in the dark. He pushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and then took it between his hands and kissed her as if she were the softest, sweetest fruit.
‘I don’t think you’ve officially given me your answer yet,’ he said, pulling away from her slightly.
‘Perhaps if you stopped kissing me I’d be able to say yes.’
‘Yes?’ he said, his innate confidence suddenly disappearing for one moment.
‘Yes, you idiot, I will marry you,’ she said, kissing him on his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids. ‘I don’t care if we go and live in York or New York. All I know is that I want to be with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’
‘That’s good then,’ smiled Edward, and reached into his inside pocket, bringing out a ring. The stone was plump and clear, surrounded by a circle of smaller diamonds. It was beautiful, perfect, but all Georgia could think was: A ring! He has a ring! That meant he’d planned this: he really, really meant it.
He slipped it on to her finger.
‘Oh, it’s a little loose,’ he said, disappointed.
‘I don’t care,’ said Georgia, kissing him again, harder this time, her longing, her desire washing over her like a wave.
His kisses trailed down her neck and his hand pushed her dress off one shoulder so his lips could brush the soft strip of skin. She tipped her head away from him and groaned. One of his hands curled around her waist to pull her closer, and she could feel her own heart thumping against his chest.
Her breathing was getting ragged and she could see the longing in his expression too.
‘I want you,’ he said softly. ‘I want to make love to you.’
She just nodded and turned away from him, leaning back against him and then closing her eyes as she felt him unzip her dress and unclip her bra, which both fell to the floor.
Still standing behind her, he slipped his hand into the front of her cotton pants as he kissed her neck. She shivered, partly with desire, partly with the thrill and spike of fear of the unknown. She had never been touched there, and the sensation of his skin against hers made her hot. But she pressed her palm on top of his hand, urging it deeper, until his fingertips touched the dark triangle between her thighs.
They moved to the bed and Edward took off his own clothes. For a split second it seemed strange to look at his strong, naked body, so alien and exotic.
He lay down next to her and started to kiss her breasts. She flushed with embarrassment as her nipples hardened. She touched one, and it felt so big and hard against her fingertip.
‘Is this okay?’ he asked softly.
‘It’s very okay,’ she whispered as he positioned himself on top of her, moving her thighs gently apart and pushing himself inside her.
She gasped a little, and froze. She really wasn’t sure what to do next, but within moments they were moving together, slowly at first. Her hands pressed down the curve of his back and she thought perhaps that they were locked together. Lifting her knees a little, she felt him even deeper inside her.
Faintly she registered a cool breeze coming in through the window and it seemed to lift her into a dream-like state. And then she felt nothing except a sweet pulse that seemed to build inside her, stronger and wilder, until a wave crashed over and Edward moaned and seemed to collapse on top of her.
After a few seconds, he moved and she could hear his breath regulate.
‘You’re alive,’ she managed with a small laugh.
‘What did you think had happened?’ He smiled and stroked her hip.
They lay like that, entangled on the blanket, for a long time, just gently kissing and listening to the revelry that floated into the room from the party below. Georgia felt beautiful. She felt like a woman. An engaged woman, she thought, twisting the ring around her finger. It was a little large, but they could get it adjusted. They could fix anything. Anything at all.
‘Married,’ she said finally.
He smiled at her.
‘Now we’ve just got to decide when, where.’
‘You know I’ve never even thought about it before.’
‘I thought all girls spent years dreaming of their wedding.’
‘Not this girl,’ she grinned.
‘So think about it now.’
‘Well, I can picture us on honeymoon,’ she said, closing her eyes dreamily.
‘Where are we?’ he asked, stroking her nipple.
‘Somewhere like Capri? We’re stuffing ourselves on delicious food, swimming in the clear waters, riding around on those little motorbikes. Although I’m not sure about having all those sultry Italian beauties competing for my husband’s attention.’
‘This man will have eyes only for his new bride,’ said Edward. ‘Now and for ever.’
‘Maybe we need to plan the wedding around the honeymoon,’ said Georgia thoughtfully. ‘I’m sure Capri and Ravello aren’t quite as wonderful in January.’
‘So you want a summer wedding.’
‘But what about New York?’
‘I suppose we don’t have to be married to move out to New York together. Being engaged will save our blushes.’
‘We could get married in America,’ she said, her eyes wide.
‘What would your mother say about that? I thought she thinks America has no culture or soul.’
‘I don’t suppose your parents will be too happy either. I expect they always hoped for a grand wedding at the house. I mean, I bet you even have a chapel in the grounds.’
‘We do,’ he laughed.
‘The sooner we tell people, the sooner we can get planning.’
‘We should probably hold off from that until tomorrow. I guess it’s Christopher’s day today. I don’t want to distract attention from him. Not on his birthday.’
‘Absolutely,’ nodded Georgia in agreement.
‘We can tell them over breakfast,’ he said in a tone that indicated it was all decided.
Georgia was nervous as they went back into the party. From a distance she could see Lord and Lady Carlyle, who suddenly seemed more intimidating than they had an hour earlier. She wondered how they would react to the news that their darling son – the heir to all she could see around them – was marrying penniless, homeless Georgia Hamilton from South Hams, Devon. In bed, Edward had confided that the reason he had invited Georgia’s family to the party was so that the Hamiltons and the Carlyles could meet. Georgia hoped that his plan would not backfire, and was particularly concerned that Estella was not being inappropriately bohemian with someone important.
She felt the engagement ring she had tucked into her bra press against her heart and she smiled, not sure she was going to be able to keep the news secret until morning.
‘What are you grinning about?’
She turned to find Estella standing behind her.
I’m smiling because I’m going to marry the most wonderful man in the world, she thought, but she held her tongue.
‘I was just thinking wha
t a brilliant party this is.’
‘Rather smart, isn’t it? Where’s Edward?’
‘Back on host duty. Apparently it’s a three-line whip that he talks to everybody.’
Estella looked at her daughter quizzically.
‘I suppose you’re glad you did the Season now.’
‘Because of Edward?’
‘He’s a very impressive young man.’
‘Because he has money?’ said Georgia, more sharply than she meant.
‘Because of the way he looks at you. Because I know he can see all the wonderful, special qualities in my daughter.’
Georgia’s mind jumped back to the blanket nest on the tiles, her own dress unzipped, Edward’s lips on her skin . . . She quickly turned away from her mother, sure that she would see it all in her face.
‘I love him,’ she said simply.
‘I know. How about we go and listen to the jazz band in the garden? I can’t see Peter, Sybil or Clarissa anywhere. And I’m not sure I can bear to talk to anyone else about their racehorses or how their darling daughter is coming along with her pianoforte.’
They moved outdoors to the ornamental pond, where a handsome man of around forty struck up a conversation with Estella about Chet Baker.
In the past, Georgia had not wanted to consider the possibility of her mother finding a new husband. Occasionally the thought crossed her mind. She remembered thinking during her dinner with the author Ian Dashwood that she should introduce him to Estella, although she did not want to dwell on that night too long. But tonight, as the air seemed to fill with romance and magic, she looked across at her mother and hoped that this man was interesting and that he was interested in Estella, who looked quite beautiful in a scarlet tea dress that skimmed the lawn.
Discreetly she moved away from them. She could see Clarissa now, talking to two boys by the champagne fountain. Her cousin waved and Georgia went over. They had a short conversation with the young men – who were both at Edinburgh University – over a glass of champagne, which was deliciously cold and fizzy.
‘Do you know, they’ve even got a swimming pool in the walled garden,’ said Clarissa, taking a peach cocktail from a waiter. ‘It’s beautiful. Do you want to come and see it? I might even take a dip.’
‘Edward was telling me all about it,’ Georgia said, smiling. ‘The place seems incredible. It’s got a grotto and a summer house, where he and Christopher used to play, and there’s even a bird’s nest on the roof where you can see all the way to Gloucestershire.’
‘Been given the guided tour already?’ asked Clarissa, raising one plucked brow.
Georgia knew she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer.
‘All right, let’s walk. I have something to tell you.’
‘What is it?’ asked Clarissa, hooking her arm through her cousin’s.
‘Not here,’ said Georgia, looking around. ‘I don’t want anyone to overhear.’
They ran across the lawn towards the walled garden and she pushed open the heavy oak door. In front of them the pool shimmered like a sheet of turquoise satin.
‘Tell me!’ said Clarissa, who also looked as if she was ready to burst.
Georgia took a deep breath.
‘Edward proposed.’
She watched as Clarissa’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. She looked shell-shocked, her reaction suggesting she had never really thought Georgia’s romance with Edward was serious. Just like everybody else.
‘Do Lord and Lady Carlyle know?’ she said finally.
‘No, we’re keeping it quiet for the moment. We didn’t think it was fair to announce it on Christopher’s birthday. Today is about him.’
‘Fair enough. I suppose it will give you a bit of time to win her over.’
‘Win who over?’ she asked in alarm.
‘Lady Carlyle. I met her earlier and she seems a frightful snob. I mean, Edward is the heir to a dynasty that goes back twenty-five generations. His mother is not just going to wave a hand and say “How lovely, Edward, I’m so pleased for you.” They don’t want him to get married; they want him to have a union with some equally rich and aristocratic young lady. How else do you think these families get to have such wealth and class?’
‘I don’t think Edward cares what his parents think,’ Georgia said with dignity.
‘Is that what he said? They all say that before Mummy and Daddy have the chat about family responsibility and lineage. Believe me, his parents will cause problems if they don’t think you cut the mustard.’
‘But Clarissa, it was so romantic,’ she said, trying to put these negative thoughts out of her head. ‘He proposed up there, on the roof, and it was as if we were on top of the world. You know, we’re going to move to New York. Maybe we’ll get one of those glorious apartments you see in the movies that overlook the park.’
‘Have you got a ring?’ asked Clarissa, peering at her hand.
Georgia reached into her bra and pulled out the diamond sparkler.
Clarissa gasped. Georgia handed it to her for a look, and its reflection twinkled in her pupils like stars.
‘Gosh, Georgia. This is real.’
‘Isn’t it just,’ she grinned.
‘Okay. Put it away and keep it hidden,’ said Clarissa, giving her back the ring. ‘I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone. In the meantime, find Lord and Lady Carlyle and impress them. Impress them tonight and next weekend and the weekend after that. You’ll win them round. And then you can tell them about your engagement. You want them on side, not against you. And no corridor-creeping tonight.’
‘Corridor-creeping?’
‘Slipping into Edward’s bedroom, of course. Now he’s proposed, he probably thinks he can get into your knickers.’
Georgia felt herself blush.
‘You’ve done it already, haven’t you!’ gasped her cousin.
‘Clarissa. It was beautiful, incredible. I never thought my body could feel like that.’
‘You did it here? Tonight?’
‘In a tiny bedroom up in the eaves. I felt as if I had gone to heaven.’
‘Will you get off cloud nine and come back down to earth,’ Clarissa said sternly. ‘Did you use a condom?’
Georgia shook her head.
‘Well, you’d better hope to hell there’s no patter of tiny feet coming along in nine months.’
‘Wouldn’t that be good?’
‘Are you completely naïve?’ snapped Clarissa. ‘Do you really think Lady Carlyle is going to let her son and heir marry any woman – and I would even include Princess Margaret in this – who is with child before the wedding? These people will do anything to avoid scandal, Georgie, anything.’
‘How do you know if you’re pregnant?’ asked Georgia after a moment.
‘You won’t know now, that’s for sure. Perhaps you’ll be lucky, and in the meantime I suggest you keep your knickers on.’
The girls stood in silence for a minute.
‘I should get back to the party,’ said Georgia finally. ‘Are you coming, or are you staying here for your dip?’
‘It looks pretty inviting, doesn’t it?’ said Clarissa as the water shimmered in front of them.
‘I dare you,’ grinned Georgia, the tension of their earlier conversation dispersing.
‘Do you think there are towels in the hut?’ asked Clarissa, pointing at a pale green summer house.
‘I don’t think the Carlyles want for anything,’ smiled Georgia as her cousin slipped off her dress and dived into the pool with a clean splash.
She came up for air and wiped her hair back off her face.
‘Go on then,’ she said, waving her hand at Georgia. ‘What are you still here for? Get back to the party!’
Georgia was still smiling as she walked across the quiet lawns. The party hadn’t sprawled out this far and the music and laughter were still a quiet hum in the background. She considered what Clarissa had said and knew that she had a point. Rich people didn’t get that way by accident; they g
ot there because they were ambitious. Because they always wanted more. And now that the Carlyles had a son of marrying age, it was a chance for the family to become more, to merge with another great family perhaps or to gain a proper royal title. Georgia knew she didn’t add anything to the pot, except perhaps the prospect of children.
She touched her stomach and hoped she wasn’t pregnant. It felt selfish to even think it, but she wanted at least five years of married life with Edward before they settled down to having a family. She wasn’t even twenty, for goodness’ sake – there were so many things she wanted to do as a woman before she became a mother.
Glancing at her watch, she was amazed that it was past midnight and the party was slowly beginning to wind down. There were still at least two hundred people here, but the dancing in front of the band had definitely thinned.
Georgia found Uncle Peter leaning against a wall in the ballroom, his head nodding down to his chest. Great, she thought. Just when I’m trying to keep the family out of trouble, my uncle chooses this night to go on a bender.
‘Uncle Peter?’ she said gently, and he jerked awake. ‘Wurr? Whassup?’ he slurred.
‘It’s Georgia.’
‘I can see that, old thing. I might be old, but I’m not senile just yet.’
‘I was just wondering if you’d like to have a seat for a moment?’
She took his arm and led him to a chair, propping him against a pillar.
‘Thanks, old girl, think I’ve overdone it a bit. I’ll be right as rain in a minute.’ And he promptly began to snore. Well, it was better than falling flat on his face, thought Georgia.
She turned as she heard her mother’s tinkling laugh coming from the library she had passed earlier. She quickly walked over – and stopped dead in the doorway.
Estella was sitting in a high-backed wing chair holding a glass of wine, directly across from none other than Lady Carlyle. Oh God.
‘Darling!’ she called, lifting her glass as she spotted Georgia. ‘I’ve been searching for you everywhere. Come and join us.’
Her heart sinking, Georgia walked slowly across and perched on the edge of a sofa, feeling Lady Carlyle’s eyes on her all the way.
‘So this is the girl who appears to have won Edward’s heart,’ said the grand dame. ‘Well, I can see why; you are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?’
The Proposal Page 25
