by Anne Ashley
Even this attempt at humour on Brindle’s part failed to take the sting out of what he had unwittingly divulged a moment before. Georgiana was only too painfully aware that whenever the Viscount remained away overnight it was more than likely he had spent it in the arms of his mistress. It oughtn’t to have mattered a whit to her whether he kept a mistress or not. Unfortunately it did. The knowledge was as painful now as it had been the year before when she had first learned of the ‘Divine Caroline’.
She turned and headed down the passageway that led to the breakfast parlour, determined not to reveal the hurt and anger coursing through her. With the best will in the world, though, she was unable to conceal the shock at discovering his lordship not alone, and stopped dead in her tracks, as her eyes focused on the fair locks of his companion.
‘Ah, Georgie!’ After making use of his napkin, his lordship rose immediately to his feet. ‘Come in, my darling. It isn’t like you to be so shy. There’s someone here simply longing to meet you. Lady Eleanor Fincham, my fiancée, Miss Georgiana Grey.’
She then found her hand being warmly taken and held by a statuesque female in her early thirties, whose warm smile was mirrored in a pair of soft grey eyes. ‘I cannot tell you how much I have been looking forward to making your acquaintance. I didn’t hesitate to accept the invitation to come to London, after reading Ben’s letter.’
Georgiana then discovered those grey eyes could twinkle merrily, betraying a lively sense of humour. ‘Though perhaps I ought to say I was summoned to the capital. Apparently, I’m to play the duenna, so that you may visit the house as often as you wish to arrange the party, without giving rise to a deal of gossip. I’m to remain until after the event, so please do not hesitate to make use of me whilst I’m here.’
Lady Eleanor then turned to her brother-in-law and attempted to scold him for keeping so much to himself. ‘You quite failed to tell me how lovely your future Viscountess is,’ she reminded him, before demanding to see the ring and then uttering a gasp of delight. ‘I’ve known him for years and never realised until now how much of a romantic he is! Only a man deeply in love would think of choosing sapphires for you, my dear.’
As had happened all too often in recent days, Georgiana hardly knew how to respond, and was spared having to do so on this occasion by his lordship’s timely intervention. With a suspicion of a smile he suggested the ladies repair to the library and begin writing the invitations without delay.
‘And I would also suggest you leave the writing to Georgie, Eleanor. Unlike your spidery scrawl, she writes a most elegant copperplate.’ There was a decided glint in his eyes. ‘I still treasure the letter she wrote to me last summer and consider it the finest example of a lady’s handwriting I’ve ever seen.’
Once again Georgiana was at a loss to know what to say. She knew precisely the letter to which he was referring. And to think he had kept it all this time was rather touching.
‘There’s no need to look so embarrassed, my darling,’ his lordship continued, once again filling the breach. ‘Never let it be said that Fincham did not give praise where it was due. And now, ladies,’ he added, after finishing his coffee, ‘I shall leave you to your own devices. I jotted down a list of those whom I think we should invite, Georgie, but add to it if you consider I’ve missed someone off. It’s all ready for you in the library, with the pile of invitation cards.’
He went over to the door, but turned back to add, ‘By the by, did that manservant of yours accompany you here?’
‘Yes, he went round to the mews with Perkins.’
‘Excellent! I’ll run him to earth there. I should be back in an hour or so. But until then I shall leave you in Eleanor’s very capable hands.’
‘Good heavens!’ His sister-in-law rolled her eyes in dismay. ‘The man cannot sit still for five minutes. I arrived here yesterday and have hardly seen anything of him! Still…’ she shrugged ‘…he must have a hundred and one things to do if he wants the party organised in less than two weeks. So perhaps we’d best repair to the library, as he suggested, and do our bit.
‘Now, I’m here to help all I can,’ she continued, as she led the way across the hall, little realising that the young woman beside her was very familiar with the layout of the house, and had been in each and every room. ‘But I have no intention of interfering.’
‘I shall be glad of your help, my lady,’ Georgiana assured her. ‘I assisted the Dowager Countess in arranging the ball for her granddaughter and realise how much work is involved.’
‘Eleanor, please. I do not intend that there should be any formality between us. Why, I’m beginning to look upon you as a sister already. And am determined we shall be the very best of friends!’
An hour later Georgian felt as if she’d known Lady Eleanor all her life. She loved her frank, open manner, which was not so dissimilar to her own. Although, by her own admission, she no longer socialised as much as she once did, and rarely journeyed to the capital, Eleanor seemed to know something about most all of those whom the Viscount had invited to the party.
One name, towards the end of the list, caused her to betray a moment’s disquiet. ‘Now, why on earth has he included them, do you suppose?’ she murmured, and then seemed to realise she’d spoken her thoughts aloud and appeared faintly embarrassed.
Georgiana glanced again at the list, and the names of Lord and Lady Wenbury seemed to jump off the page. Instantly memories of gossiping round a certain kitchen table came flooding back.
The previous year when she had first learned of the ‘so-called’ love of the Viscount’s life, she had felt nothing, except perhaps a deal of sympathy towards the man who had been heartlessly tossed aside by the woman he had loved. As far as she could recall his lordship had never once given her the impression that he suffered from unrequited love, and she supposed that was partly the reason why, up until now, she had felt more curiosity than any degree of jealousy towards the woman who had so callously jilted him. She couldn’t ignore, though, that almost overnight everything had changed, and now she very much resented the idea of his old love attending the party—of any past flames attending, come to that.
Clearly Lady Eleanor did not hold Lord Wenbury’s wife in high regard and, given her obvious regard for her brother-in-law, it was perhaps understandable why not. Yet, for reasons known only to himself, Ben had wished the Wenburys to attend, and she, at least, must accept the situation with a good grace. She must never allow herself to become overly sensitive and must attempt never to brood over insignificant details. The whole engagement was a confounded sham, anyway, she reminded herself, once again lifting the quill from the standish. And she must never foolishly lose sight of that fact…ever!
When the day of the party finally arrived, and she was at last journeying to the Viscount’s town house for the celebration itself, Georgiana believed she had her every wayward emotion well under control, and had her mind firmly focused on the only reason for the engagement.
She’d been granted numerous opportunities during the past days to judge Ben’s attitude towards her, and she had come to the conclusion it could best be described as still bordering on sibling affection. There was naught of the lover in his manner towards her. The only time he ever attempted to touch her more than fleetingly had been on those occasions when they had danced together. She could only be grateful those instances when they had attended the same party had been blessedly few during the past week or so, for it had been only then, when he had been close, tall and strong beside her, that she had become too conscious of his masculinity, of his innate power to attract her. It had been only then she had felt her resolve weakening, which had resulted in her wanting to put as much distance as possible between them.
Yet, on other occasions she had had cause to be grateful for his presence; such as that time at Berkeley Square when Ronan had escaped from the kitchen area, and had come bounding across the drawing room to greet her, quite blatantly ignoring his master and Lady Eleanor in his eagerness to reach hi
s goal.
‘Struck up an immediate partiality for her company from the first,’ his lordship had remarked in response to his sister-in-law’s surprised look. ‘There have been times I think the ungrateful cur actually prefers her to me!’
His mock outrage had instantly averted what might have been a slightly awkward moment. Lady Eleanor had just chuckled and not asked for any further explanation for the dog’s astonishing behaviour. Then there had been that other significant incident when Georgiana had had her first encounter with Cook after so very many months. Clearly Brindle had never betrayed his master’s trust by revealing what he knew to any other member of staff, for Mrs Willard’s jaw had dropped perceptively and she had just stared across the room in stunned disbelief, until his lordship had again, showing great presence of mind, intervened.
‘Struck dumb by your future mistress’s loveliness, no doubt. Perfectly understand! But surely you didn’t expect your lord and master to become betrothed to a bracket-faced creature?’
Once again his timely intervention had averted what might so easily have turned into a most embarrassing moment, especially as Lady Eleanor had again been present at the time. Cook had seemed to collect herself almost at once, and during all subsequent meetings between them had not attempted to allude to the fact that they had known each other the year before in vastly contrasting circumstances, though that wonderful rapport they had enjoyed back then had soon re-established itself.
So could anything go wrong tonight? Georgiana couldn’t help wondering, as she stepped lightly down from his lordship’s carriage. She sincerely hoped not, but was too much of a realist to sit back on her laurels. The Viscount would be on hand, of course. But that was not always necessarily a good thing, she reminded herself, as she reached out her hand to make her arrival known.
Brindle, bowing her into the hall, for once betrayed his emotions in a look of absolute appreciation, which was no less marked than those she had received from the Dowager and Lady Sophia before she had left the Grenville town house a short time earlier.
There could not have been a gown in the length and breadth of the land that would have suited her better. Gloves, silk shawl and slippers were all dyed the exact same shade as the beautifully fashioned deep blue dress, a colour undoubtedly chosen to emphasise the unusual hue of her eyes. Whether or not the Viscount, or the modiste, had decided upon the exact shade, she had no way of knowing.
‘His lordship desires a private word with you in the library,’ Brindle informed her, throwing wide the door leading to the book-lined room.
Georgiana wasn’t in the least surprised. She had received a brief note earlier in the day from Brindle’s master requesting that, apart from the engagement ring, she don no jewellery for the occasion, as all necessary adornments awaited her at his home. She had supposed he had chosen something from the family jewels for her to wear, for which she could only be grateful as her own selection was woefully inadequate for such an occasion as this, concocted though the engagement was.
As she entered the room Georgiana almost stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes focused on the tall figure of the master of the house standing, sentinel-like, by the window. She’d seen him in formal evening attire on numerous occasions in recent weeks, but never had she seen him looking quite so magnificent. Tall and well muscled, his physique was admirably well suited to the new style of dress advocated by Brummell. His only adornments, apart from his quizzing-glass, was a large diamond nestling in the folds of his cravat and a simple gold signet ring on his right hand. Undeniably, there was about him that certain haughty air of a man who knew his own worth; and although he might never be considered strictly handsome, he cut the strikingly unforgettable figure of a gentleman of breeding and good taste.
After dismissing Brindle with a nod of his head, his lordship sauntered towards her in his usual gracefully athletic way, his gaze not missing the smallest detail of her own attire. Not for the first time he was struck by the slender shapeliness of her figure, and again it crossed his mind to wonder just how she had managed to conceal her feminine charms so adequately during those weeks she had acted the page. Some sort of chest binding, he could only suppose. Now, however, was not the appropriate time to attempt to satisfy his curiosity and risk discomposing her. Tonight he needed her to appear perfectly relaxed, and so he merely said, ‘Perhaps now you can appreciate just why I was so against decking the reception rooms out in swathes of silk to match your gown.’ He shuddered. ‘I should have felt I was yet again enduring a wretched Channel crossing!’
Her immediate gurgle in response was exactly what he would have expected, and he found himself smiling too. ‘Come over here, I have something for you.’ He reached for the velvet-covered box on the top of his desk and flicked open the lid to reveal an array of sapphires and diamonds lying on a bed of silk. Her reaction was once again what he might have expected. Her perfectly shaped lips parted and her eyes widened in disbelief.
Before she had recovered from the shock sufficiently to speak, he was already clasping the necklace about her throat, his fingers unavoidably brushing the nape of her neck as he did so. Her reaction this time did not please him. She had stiffened…visibly so!
He was not a male accustomed to the fair sex flinching at his touch. The opposite was, in fact, very much more the case. Every female with whom he had enjoyed more intimate relations had actively encouraged his advances. He’d enough experience to be very sure that Georgiana wasn’t indifferent to him. From the first there had always been a wonderful rapport between them, largely based on trust and respect, not to mention common interests. Furthermore, he’d touched her dozens of times without her cringing from him as though he were some kind of sexual predator, for heaven’s sake! All the same, he couldn’t deny that he’d caught a certain wariness in her expression from time to time during more recent days.
‘What’s wrong?’ Grasping her shoulders, he turned her round to face him squarely and then placed one hand beneath her chin so that she had no choice but to look him in the face. ‘And please don’t insult my intelligence by denying it. It’s patently obvious something’s troubling you.’
She moved away and he didn’t attempt to stop her. ‘If you must know,’ she said after a brief silence, ‘I’m finding it all a bit of a strain.’ Her sudden shout of laughter was distinctly mirthless. ‘You might find this hard to believe, Ben, but lying doesn’t come easily to me.’
‘I do not find that hard to believe at all,’ he assured her. ‘I could always tell when you were lying to me, Master Green.’
The name succeeded in evoking many bittersweet memories, and Georgiana wandered over to the hearth and stared up at the portrait that had so captured her attention all those many months ago. ‘You brought me in here that first evening, remember? I never imagined then that I would be standing here almost a year later attempting to convince the world that we…’
As her words faded he went across to her and grasped her arms. Thankfully, this time she did not recoil at his touch, but her expression was hardly encouraging. He administered a small shake. ‘I shall take leave to inform you, my girl, that you’ll fool no one into believing you’re a happily engaged female when you’re wearing that woebegone face.’
She couldn’t help smiling at this. And he was perfectly correct, of course! If she wished to succeed in her aim, she must play her part to the full. So long as she maintained that all-important sense of proportion and didn’t attempt to persuade herself it was real.
‘You’re right, of course,’ she agreed, echoing her thoughts. ‘And what female wouldn’t feel deliriously happy with a king’s ransom in gems adorning her throat.’ She peered down at the bottommost stones that almost reached the cleft between her breasts. ‘They are truly magnificent, Ben. Are they part of the family jewels?’
‘Certainly not!’ He had sounded affronted. ‘They are my betrothal gift to you. However, I should prefer if they remain here in this house, if you have no objection. Of course, you may w
ear them as often as you wish.’
Georgiana was too stunned to be able to formulate any kind of response, let alone take time to consider why he might wish to keep them here at Berkeley Square. In fact, it was as much as she could do to don the matching earrings when commanded to do so.
‘And now, my darling, I think it best if we repair upstairs without further ado. Eleanor and Charles will be awaiting us; we must be ready for when the first of our dinner-guests arrive.’
Much later that evening, when she stood beside the Viscount at the entrance to the large drawing room, Georgiana felt she had managed to regain at least some of her self-possession. The dinner party had been a most enjoyable affair. She’d been more than happy for Lady Eleanor to preside over the table as hostess, which of course had enabled her to relax far more and enjoy the company of the Viscount’s good friend Charles Gingham, who had sat on her immediate left.
Now, of course, the most crucial part of the evening had begun. Two of the suspects had already arrived and were ensconced in the room set out for cards. The third, bewigged, and dazzlingly attired in a coat of gold brocade, satin knee-breeches and high-heeled buckled shoes, was at last mincing his way along the passageway towards them.
‘God in heaven, Trent!’ his lordship exclaimed in disgust. ‘Never tell me you’ve been dipping into the rouge pot!’
‘Had to, dear boy,’ Sir Willoughby responded, not visibly chastened by the Viscount’s evident disdain. ‘Positively washed out I look without it. I swear that demmed chest infection very nearly took me off!’
He then felt for his quizzing-glass and through it peered for several moments at the gems adorning a slender throat before transferring his gaze to the feature that so perfectly matched the exquisite stones. The next moment his own eyes widened, and the aid to vision slipped from his fingers. ‘Good gad!’ he exclaimed. ‘It cannot be!’
