by Anne Ashley
‘It would seem, my girl, you have become distinctly pert in recent days. Clearly it behoves me to spend more time with you in order to improve your manners. And I shall begin so doing without delay.’ He turned to the Dowager. ‘With your permission, ma’am, I shall relieve you of my fiancée’s pernicious influence for the next half an hour or so.’
Although she wasn’t in the least alarmed to have her arm securely imprisoned round his lordship’s, Georgiana was curious to know why he was so intent on spiriting her out of the already crowded ballroom. ‘Is there something you wish to discuss with me in private? Have there been any further developments?’
‘No, not really.’ All at once his gaze grew markedly keener. ‘God, how I’ve missed you these past days!’
And how she wished he wouldn’t say things like that to her! How she wished, too, he wouldn’t look at her in that intensely intimate way, as though branding her his own with his eyes. She could almost believe that he meant it. And perhaps he did in a way. After all, hadn’t they always rubbed along wonderfully well for the most part? But to read anything more into it than genuine fondness would be dangerously foolhardy, she reminded herself.
‘And to prove it, I wish you to partner me in a game or two of whist, just for a short while,’ he surprised her by announcing, his tone once again reverting to merely sociable. ‘After all, we’ve played together enough times in the dim and distant past for me to be sure you are not lacking some skill.’
This might have been very true. All the same, when he steered her towards a corner table in the room set out for cards, where two gentlemen were already seated, she didn’t suppose for a moment her skill at cards, or lack of it, had weighed with him. No, there had to be another reason for choosing her as his partner, she finally decided.
‘Fincham, dear fellow!’ Sir Willoughby greeted him cheerfully. ‘Come to join us for a hand or two? And you’ve brought your delightful fiancée, I observe! Such eyes! Once seen never forgotten, eh?’
Had not Ben warned her of the baronet’s penchant for wicked teasing, his remarks might have unnerved her somewhat. As it was, Georgiana merely favoured him with one of her most serene smiles, before seating herself at the table.
‘I trust you do not object, Chard, to playing a hand or two at whist for very moderate stakes?’
Although there hadn’t been so much as a hint of welcome in the baron’s hard features, he sounded companionable enough as he said, ‘As you’re very well aware, I should welcome it, Fincham. I’ve been losing far too heavily of late.’
‘What’s this? What’s this?’ Clearly it was news to Sir Willoughby. ‘Don’t tell me, like our friend Gyles, you’ll be rusticating too? Heard he’s now kicking his heels in the country.’
‘Might have to resort to that if my luck doesn’t change, or if Fincham’s here doesn’t alter soon. He’s been having the devil’s own good fortune of late,’ Chard revealed grimly, before concentrating on the cards in his hand.
After having listened intently to this little interchange, Georgiana began to appreciate why she had seen so little of the Viscount since the evening of the engagement party. Initially she’d feared that he must be tiring of her company and the role he was obliged to enact. Then, of course, he’d gone out of his way to provide her with the perfect mount, and she’d begun to wonder if she’d misjudged him entirely. Seemingly, instead of squiring her about, he’d been spending his time at the gaming tables, relieving a specific person of his money. Was he now firmly convinced Chard was the guilty party? Had he been doing his utmost in recent days to persuade Chard to organise a further robbery in order to recoup his losses so that a trap might be sprung in order to bring him to justice? That could well be true. All the same, it was also possible that something might go drastically wrong, which might result in some poor unsuspecting soul being deprived of a fortune in gems!
She raised her eyes to find the Viscount’s regarding her steadily above the cards in his hand, his expression, as it so often was, totally unreadable. Little wonder he was such an accomplished gamester, she reflected. No one could ever be sure just what was passing through that astute mind of his. He might well have been attempting to convey some secret message about one or both their opponents, or merely silently advising her to concentrate on her cards.
She did her utmost to do so and was rewarded by helping to win the first game, though she was forced silently to own their success was mostly due to the skill of her partner. The run of the cards was never with them throughout the second. However, they won the third comprehensively and she decided it was time for her to leave while they were still ahead.
‘If you will forgive me, good sirs, I have promised to partner one or two gentlemen in a dance, so I think it behoves me to leave you to your own devices,’ she said, rising to her feet. ‘No, please,’ she added, when the Viscount made to rise also, ‘I believe I’ve wits enough to find my own way back to the ballroom and shall have the pleasure of your company later in the evening, no doubt.’
‘You may be sure you shall. And I insist upon the supper dance,’ he added, before gathering the cards together and shuffling them expertly. ‘What is your pleasure now, gentlemen?’
‘I’m happy enough to leave the choice to you, Fincham. But, given our mutual friend’s straitened circumstances let us keep to moderate stakes, shall we?’ Sir Willoughby suggested, thereby proving there was a considerate streak in his nature also.
‘That filly of yours is really quite remarkable,’ he added, after studying Georgiana’s progress across to the door. ‘Not in your usual style at all, I wouldn’t have said.’
‘You think not?’ his lordship returned, recalling his good friend Charles Gingham remarking on much the same thing. ‘Like yourself, I was first attracted by the eyes. And, in truth, I believe my tastes have changed. Fair and docile damsels no longer interest me. I like a girl with some spirit.’
The baronet chuckled appreciatively. ‘Ah, well, you certainly have one there. And I must say, Fincham, you couldn’t have chosen more appropriate gems to enhance that wonderful feature of hers. They must have cost a pretty penny. What say you, Chard? You’re something of an expert when it comes to judging precious stones.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t go as far as to say that,’ he returned promptly, while the Viscount, eyes determinedly lowered, concentrated on dealing out the cards. ‘I’m sure our mutual friend here, being a sensible fellow, has them insured, no matter their worth.’
At this, his lordship couldn’t forbear a smile. ‘I assure you I’ve every intention of taking very great care of them. It just so happens I’m leaving London at the end of the week for that very purpose.’
‘Not you, too!’ Sir Willoughby exclaimed in disgust, while the gentleman seated opposite silently picked his newly dealt cards up off the table. ‘First Gyles, and now you—there’ll be no one left in town at this rate!’
‘You exaggerate, Trent,’ his lordship countered. ‘Chard, here, will bear you company until the end of the Season, I’m sure.’
‘Well, that’s no good to me, if his pockets are to let,’ Sir Willoughby pointed out peevishly.
‘I’m not bankrupt quite yet,’ Chard countered. ‘Though I sincerely trust you’ll offer me the opportunity to recoup at least some of my losses before you desert the metropolis for the wilds of Hampshire, Fincham?’
‘You may be sure I shall,’ the Viscount responded, staring resolutely down at the cards in his hand, his expression, as his fiancée often found it, inscrutable. ‘As I mentioned before, I do not intend leaving until Friday afternoon. I have an appointment with my bankers in the morning.’
This captured Sir Willoughby’s attention. ‘You’ll not make it home in the day, then, will you? Intend putting up somewhere?’
‘I usually put up at the White Hart just a mile or so west of Liphook. I’ll finish the journey the following morning, and cut down on time by taking a shortcut through Cheetham Wood. It’s a nuisance, but I must needs ensure the anc
estral pile is ready to welcome its future mistress. We’ve decided on a quiet wedding this summer, you see. All the same, there are—er—certain items of value I must take to Fincham Park in readiness for the event.’
After fulfilling her promises to those two gentlemen guests who had secured her for a dance, and partnering several others too, Georgiana was more than happy to return to the Dowager Countess’s side in order to marshal her thoughts.
Silently she was obliged to own she was finding Fincham’s behaviour increasingly puzzling— One moment so thoughtful and attentive, nothing being too much trouble, but for the most part seemingly happy to go his own way and ignore her very existence. Why, for instance, had he been on the watch for her, demanding her attention the moment she had arrived, only to allow her to leave the card room without so much as attempting to detain her? Furthermore, had his request for the supper dance been made to avoid suspicion, merely for the benefit of the other gentlemen present, or had he a genuine desire to bear her company later in the evening? Always where Fincham was concerned it was impossible to judge!
‘Something appears to be troubling you, child.’
The Dowager’s concerned voice succeeded in interrupting her disturbing thoughts. ‘Yes, I do have one or two things on my mind at present,’ she freely admitted, knowing her ladyship was far too astute to accept a denial.
‘No doubt your fiancé will be able to alleviate any concerns you have, should you confide in him. He is an eminently sensible gentleman.’
Georgiana couldn’t forbear a smile at this. ‘You’ve clearly changed your opinion of the Viscount, ma’am,’ she pointed out. ‘He’s positively spiralled in your estimation in the space of a few short weeks.’
‘I sincerely hope, Georgiana, that I never become so vainglorious that I cannot admit when I have been in error. And I do believe I grossly misjudged Fincham and that I was guilty of the sin of prejudging someone merely on the evidence of idle gossip. I shall endeavour never to do so again. Fincham is not only a person of immense character and astuteness, he is a gentleman of principle.’
At any other time Georgiana would have been elated to hear the Dowager say this, for she valued highly the elderly lady’s opinion, but her own doubts concerning the Viscount refused to leave her and she decided finally to share them with her companion.
‘I agree with what you say, my lady…at least up to a point. I just wish he would confide in me more with regard to any progress made regarding your son’s death. Why does he refuse to take me into his confidence? He tells me nothing…or very little to the purpose.’
The Dowager gave vent to a wheezy chuckle. ‘Ah, my dear child! I can only assume love is adversely affecting your judgement. You are not usually so imperceptive. I just revealed that, in my opinion, Fincham is a sagacious gentleman of principle. Perhaps I should also have added he’s a man well able to take care of his own. And that is what you are, child. Hasn’t he declared that to the world by decking you out in such fine jewels? He views you as his own property and is determined to protect you at all costs.’
Maybe so, but why then does he insist the jewels are retained in his possession at Berkeley Square? Georgiana wondered, gaining scant comfort from her ladyship’s assurances. If he truly loved her, why had he never said as much?
It was unfortunate that at that precise moment, when she was no nearer unravelling her conflicting thoughts concerning the Viscount, that she should suddenly observe the gentleman himself weaving his way round the little clusters of guests towards her. Something in his expression gave her every reason to suppose that he had been regarding her for some little while, for there was an unmistakable enquiring lift to one black brow.
‘You look unusually pale, Georgie. I think it behoves me to take you out on to the terrace for a breath of air, if her ladyship would forgive the desertion yet again?’
As his lordship, seemingly, could do no wrong in the Dowager’s eyes, it came as no surprise that he quickly gained her ladyship’s assent; the next moment Georgiana found herself being led inexorably towards the doors that granted access to the terrace.
Given that it had been the hottest spring day thus far, it was a little surprising to find the large paved area entirely deserted, a circumstance that caused Georgiana some disquiet, but appeared to have the opposite effect on the Viscount.
‘Ah! A moment to ourselves at last. We rarely seem to attain that, do we, my love?’
‘Hardly surprising since we rarely see each other nowadays!’ she retorted, before she could stop herself, and then turned her back on him when an infuriatingly satisfied grin curled his lips.
‘Do I infer correctly from that waspish tone that you have missed me, my angel?’
She resolutely refused to answer. She was in no mood for these cat-and-mouse games he seemed to enjoy playing with her. And that was precisely it, she told herself. She was like some plaything—the centre of his universe one moment, tossed aside, like some toy that has lost its fascination, the next. And totally forgotten no doubt! Why, if she’d a modicum of sense at all, she told herself roundly, she’d reveal their engagement was bogus to the world at large and have done with it!
The instant he placed his hand beneath her elbow, and turned her round to face him squarely once again, she knew she could not make public their secret, at least not yet, while there remained a real purpose for the deception. She must never lose sight of that fact, she told herself for perhaps the hundredth time. She must not allow personal feelings, or a bruised ego, to make her forget that one important objective!
‘I’m sorry. I’m just blue-devilled. This whole business seems to be dragging on interminably.’
It wasn’t an outright lie, and seemingly he believed her, because he said after a moment, ‘It cannot go on for ever. Just be patient a while longer, then all the pretence will blessedly be at an end.’ He raised his head momentarily, as though he’d detected a sound. ‘But in the meantime we must both endeavour to maintain our roles, for I do believe we are no longer alone.’
Even before Georgiana could think of taking evasive action, she was already a captive within the circle of his arms. Yet no prisoner could have felt less desire to escape. The instant his lips touched hers no thought of breaking free entered her head. It was almost as if her mind had closed to coherent thought, and her body had taken control, a body that instantly responded to a masterly touch that managed to combine both gentleness and sensual expertise. As had happened before, she seemed to have no will of her own and was blissfully content to submit to his control, until he finally released her and common sense once again exerted itself.
Was it pure imagination or had that same husky timbre she’d detected on one memorable occasion in the recent past been back in his voice as he suggested they return to the ballroom? Georgiana was incapable of making up her mind as his lingering embrace had left her thoughts in turmoil. Notwithstanding, she still retained wits enough to realise, as she turned and walked with him towards the door, that, save for themselves, the terrace was deserted.
Chapter Fourteen
By the time yet another week was rapidly drawing to a close Georgiana had decided that her pleasure in residing in the metropolis was assuredly waning. Not only had the week turned out to be a miserable one, as far as the weather was concerned, thereby denying her the pleasure of exercising her new grey mare, but also Lord Fincham had condescended to see her on two occasions only—once briefly at a party on Tuesday evening, when they had barely exchanged a couple of dozen words, and the day before when he had unexpectedly called at Grenville House to reveal that something had occurred at his ancestral home requiring his urgent attention, that he intended leaving town the following day, and would return as soon as maybe.
It was hardly surprising Georgiana felt scant enthusiasm for the new day ahead, when she rose from her bed much later than usual. Then she was pleasantly surprised to discover, as she padded across to the window, a city bathed in pleasant spring sunshine. The morning was al
l but lost to her, of course, but she was determined not to waste the sunny afternoon and sent word to the stables for her mount to be saddled, only to discover upon reaching the mews that her escort was to be none other than her ladyship’s grim head groom.
‘Where’s Digby?’ she demanded to know without preamble.
‘Couldn’t say, miss. Went off bright and early this morning, so ’e did, just after daybreak. Said ’e wouldn’t be back for a day or two.’
Understandably miffed, she gave vent to a string of colourful invective, which rather amused the dour head groom, and which resulted in a partial thawing of his usual morose demeanour as they set off in the direction of the park. All the same, he was no Digby, and Georgiana continued to feel slightly resentful over what was tantamount to her servant’s desertion.
Of course she could well appreciate just why he had abandoned her. Evidently his high-and-mightiness had decreed it and had required Digby to undertake some important task whilst the Viscount himself was out of town. It wasn’t the fact that she would be deprived of her servant for a day or so that annoyed her so much as his lordship’s high-handed attitude in assuming he could order her servant about without first consulting her. Furthermore, why hadn’t he mentioned yesterday, when he had called at the house, that he would be requiring Digby’s services? And why hadn’t Digby himself said anything to her, come to that? To be sure, it was like some wretched conspiracy between the pair of them!
A vaguely familiar sing-song voice hailing her cheerfully succeeded in breaking into her irritating rumination, and she raised her head to see none other than Sir Willoughby Trent—of all people!—sitting beside the Duchess of Merton in her Grace’s splendid open carriage. As the conveyance drew to a halt alongside, there was no mistaking the twinkling mischief in the foppish baronet’s eyes and Georgiana prepared herself for some wicked bantering.
