‘Your marriage was so very sudden,’ Oliver said, with a shake of his head. ‘You, of all people, would know your own mind and think before making such a momentous decision. But I feared…’
‘Me, of all people?’ Fred raised an eyebrow.
‘Well…’ Oliver shrugged and pointed to the bottle and Fred poured him another class. ‘You have always been conscious of society’s opinion of you.’
‘Too conscious, you usually say,’ Fred reminded him.
‘There is no pleasing the world,’ Oliver said. ‘Once it has formed a negative opinion, it will not see reason. I see no point in trying to change its collective mind, especially when conformity to the norm interferes with my pleasure.’
Fred nodded in sympathy. Because of his Indian blood, many people turned their back on his friend before they’d even met him. Yet, the Challenger family was accepted into the best homes, no matter what awful thing they did. There was no fairness in it. ‘I do not behave as I do just to please society,’ he replied. ‘Having seen the alternative, I prefer order and moderation.’
‘In public, at least,’ Oliver said, glancing towards the main rooms where naked women posed on daises for the admiration of the guests. ‘I can remember many nights here at the club where moderation was the last thing you would have suggested.’
‘Not in quite some time.’ It had taken just one particularly horrible incident to sour him on the games they’d played at Vitium et Virtus. Now, he could walk past a line of dancers wearing little more than grease paint and feathers and think of nothing more scandalous than his desire to hole up in the office with a book and a bottle. But he had never shared his reason for drawing away from the entertainment with his friend and did not plan to do so tonight.
Instead, he smiled. ‘Perhaps, I am just getting too old to be dancing drunk on top of the tables.’
‘And Jake is a duke now and far too proper,’ Oliver mocked. ‘The pair of you are younger than me…’
‘Barely,’ Fred reminded him.
‘And yet, lately you act like old ladies. If I am to go to Paris and speak to the fellows at Club Plaisirs Nocturnes about new entertainments for this place only to have the pair of you sell your shares and bow out of management, I would rather not make the trip.’
Though they had been close since childhood, they were grown men with responsibilities. Change was inevitable. Perhaps Oliver felt it more keenly and was worried about the loss of his old friends. ‘Do not fear on that account,’ Frederick said, to set his mind at rest. ‘I am still as committed as ever to see the place run smoothly.’
‘So that others might have fun where you refuse to.’ Oliver shook his head in disgust. ‘What will your wife say to the time you spend, here? Does she not fear you will be tempted?’
‘What can she say?’ Frederick said. If she uttered a word, other than profound thanks for getting her out of the mess she’d made, he had no wish to hear it. ‘I have no intention of allowing her to rule my life and set my schedule.’
‘But if she grows bored…’ Oliver said, giving him a significant look.
‘Then she can take up needlework, or whatever it is that women do when their husbands are not at home,’ Fred finished.
Oliver was shaking his head again. ‘Did you receive a blow to the head in battle that has knocked all the sense of out of you? Or do you really know so little about women, after all this time?’ He pointed towards the ceiling. ‘The bedrooms above us are full of bored wives and they are not painting watercolours. When their husbands are not home, they come here to find other men, or sometimes other women.’
‘But Georgiana is not like that,’ he said. ‘She is still an innocent.’
Oliver raised his eyebrows in surprise.
‘Mostly innocent,’ Fred corrected. ‘Certainly too naïve to go behind my back to spite me.’
‘Because you have been married for a day and a half,’ Oliver finished, then grinned. ‘And yet, she has already found a way to get around you.’
‘She did what?’ Fred leaned forward in his chair.
‘As I said before, my well-wishes were tepid at the ceremony, for I could not see what you would want with a milk-and-water miss. But now that I have got to know her better, I totally understand the attraction.’
‘You do.’ If he had not been honest enough to admit to his own friends the reason he was marrying, he had expected they would form some conclusion on their own. But did they seriously believe that it was a love match?
‘Indeed. If I were in any way inclined to marry, I might have snapped her up myself.’ Then he held up a hand to dismiss the idea, hurriedly pouring himself another drink. ‘Not that you need have any worries about my interference in your marriage. But knowing her as you do, you should realise that she is far too spirited to sit at home alone waiting for you to return.’
‘You think so, do you?’ Fred said, annoyed. The idea had not entered his head at all until Oliver had put it there.
‘A few more exploits like the one today and you will be the envy of every man in London. The girl is magnificent, Challenger.’ Oliver’s eyes were wide with admiration, as was the grin on his face.
‘Georgiana?’ Fred’s eyes narrowed as he poured another glass of brandy for himself, drinking deeply. ‘She is pretty, of course…’ Which was quite understating the case. From the first moment he’d seen her, he had decided to avoid her lest her beauty blind him towards her quite obvious faults. But what had his friend meant by ‘exploits’?
Oliver shook his head. ‘I will not deny that she is a looker,’ his friend agreed. ‘I am not blind, you know. But even though she claimed she could drive, I did not think she’d be such a dab hand with a whip.’
‘A what?’
‘A skilled driver,’ Oliver repeated. ‘This afternoon…’
‘She was shopping this afternoon,’ Fred said.
‘Not for long,’ Oliver said. ‘She drove my curricle back from Hounslow Heath,’ he continued, oblivious to Fred’s shock.
‘Drove, or raced?’ The road he was describing sounded like the Hounslow Road towards Colnbrook, a notorious straight that young men used to test the wind of their horses.
‘She tracked me down in Bond Street,’ Oliver admitted. ‘She was burdened with packages, so I offered her a ride back to your town house, and the next thing I knew…’
‘You gave her the reins,’ Fred said, shaking his head.
‘She bet me a guinea,’ Oliver added helplessly.
‘Oh. Well, then…’ he said, sarcastically. But Oliver could hardly be blamed. The girl was a corrupting influence on the best of men. ‘What were you thinking? She might have broken her neck. Then you could have taken your winnings from my dead wife’s reticule and bought me a funeral wreath for the front door.’
This was met by an embarrassed silence.
‘I trust you put her in her place,’ Fred said.
Oliver shrugged.
‘You did not let her beat you?’ There was such a thing as carrying chivalry too far, especially when it involved a friend’s wife.
‘I did not let her do anything,’ Oliver said sheepishly. ‘I drove out at a brisk pace. Not as fast as I might have, of course. I did not want to frighten the girl.’
‘Of course not,’ Fred agreed.
‘But fast enough to take the devil out of the horses and cause her to lose her bonnet.’
‘And I suppose she cried over that,’ Fred said, hoping.
‘Not a tear. She was too busy timing me with her little gold watch to notice. When we reached the mile marker, she held out her hands for the reins, turned the carriage like she’d been driving it for years and—’ Oliver clapped his hands ‘—we were off without giving the horses a chance to take a second breath.’
‘And she beat you,’ Fred said again.
<
br /> ‘I would have shown no mercy at all if I’d known she could drive like a demon.’ Oliver paused, as if suddenly remembering that this was not some fellow they both knew, but a woman. ‘A very attractive demon, of course,’ he finished.
‘Attractive?’ Fred repeated in a dark tone to remind that she was not just some girl, but the woman who had just become his wife.
‘Um, yes,’ Oliver said cautiously. ‘But also very ladylike, I am sure. She said she was taking her winnings to Bond Street to buy a new hat, since I had ruined hers.’ He grinned at the memory. ‘She is very like you were, at her age.’
‘When I was her age, I was still at Oxford.’ And many of the stories from school still made him wince in embarrassment.
‘Exactly. And a young hellion, just as we all were.’ Oliver smiled fondly at the memory. ‘I had no idea that young ladies could have the same daring streak in them. But apparently, some do.’
‘Then they should have it trained out of them,’ Fred said firmly.
‘I am sure there is no harm in it,’ Oliver said, attempting to bury a situation that he had enabled. ‘As long as you are not serious in thinking she will stay by the hearth fire while you neglect her.’
‘I have no intention of neglecting her,’ he said. The negligence would be mutual. It was hardly a mistake if he was doing exactly what she wanted by leaving her alone.
‘That is good to hear,’ Oliver said. ‘Whether you realise it or not, you married that girl to fill the void in your spirit that we have all noticed since you returned from fighting Napoleon.’
‘There is such a thing as too much spirit,’ Fred said darkly. ‘What will the world think if it finds that after barely a day of marriage she is cavorting with one of my oldest friends?’
‘Cavorting?’ At this, Oliver laughed. ‘Is that all you are worried about? I thought you were concerned about the danger of driving breakneck in an open carriage and the possibility that we could have upset and been injured or killed. But if it is our cavorting you are worried about…’
What was he saying? He was supposed to be newly married and in love. If not besotted, he should at least care enough about his wife to worry more about her safety than his own pride. ‘Of course,’ he corrected. ‘I am worried for her safety.’
‘And, of course, you are jealous,’ Oliver agreed, with another laugh. ‘Jealous that I will suddenly forget two decades of friendship and steal your bride. You are being ridiculous, but I forgive you for it. Men in love seldom think with the head on their shoulders.’
So his friend thought he was ruled by lust. They must be better actors than he had thought, if even those closest to him were seeing signs of affection between them. ‘I apologise. It is just as you say. I am being ridiculous.’
Oliver nodded. ‘It is understandable. As I said before, Challenger, what a woman.’ He was still smiling in admiration, as if Fred had somehow won first place, even though he had not been racing.
CHAPTER TEN
When George came down to the breakfast room the next morning, Mr Challenger was there to greet her with his usual disapproving expression.
‘Good morning, Husband,’ she said, smiling brightly. Then, for the benefit of the footman, she went to his side and gave him a kiss upon the cheek before taking her seat. When she glanced back at him while reaching for the eggs it was clear that the gesture had affected him. He was still frowning, but his cheeks had gone pink and it looked as though he had forgotten what it was he meant to say.
At last, he settled on, ‘Good morning, Georgiana.’
Silence fell, again. She sipped her tea.
‘Did you enjoy your shopping trip yesterday?’
He would not have asked if he did not know the truth. She smiled sweetly. ‘Yes. Very much so. I bought a new bonnet.’
‘To replace the one you lost while carriage racing on the Hounslow Road,’ he finished, taking a slice of toast from the rack and reaching for the butter. ‘Did you not listen to a word I said, on the night we married?’
She touched a finger to her chin, pretending to think. ‘I believe you wished me to be frugal. Since I got the money for the hat off Mr Gregory, it cost you nothing.’
The bread in his hand crumbled under the pressure of his knife and he tossed it uneaten on his plate. ‘I also told you to avoid making a public spectacle of yourself.’
‘A public spectacle?’ She laughed. ‘It was only a mile down the road and back.’
‘In the company of a man who is not your husband,’ he reminded her.
‘A good friend of yours. Surely…’
‘And betting.’
‘One small wager,’ she said. ‘Which I won.’
‘The amount is not the point,’ Mr Challenger said. ‘The point is that I forbade you from driving…’
‘Not exactly,’ she said. ‘You threatened me with a pony cart.’
‘I do not threaten,’ he said.
It was not really a threat to be so overprotective. He might have been trying, in his own misguided way, to be kind. He had followed it by defending her against Marietta. For the first time in ages, someone had taken her side in an argument. Despite how much he annoyed her, she had wanted to kiss him in gratitude.
And then, on the ride back to the house, he had told her of his plans to abandon her for the evening to go to his stupid club.
An hour later, she had been tearing down the road toward Colnbrook with the wind in her hair and her husband’s friend swearing on the driver’s seat beside her.
‘You do not threaten?’ She smiled and took a sip of tea. ‘Well, neither do I. I said I had no intention of following the ridiculous strictures you placed on me. And I meant it.’
She waited for his response. He did not seem like the sort of man who would strike a woman. But what could he do to her, short of lock her in her room? She almost hoped he would try, so she might test the strength of the drainpipe outside her bedroom window.
‘Then I will renege on my part of the bargain,’ he said, smiling over his coffee cup.
‘And what might that bargain be?’ she asked, feeling the first hint of worry.
He set down his cup and stood, walking over to stand behind her chair, resting his hands on the back, so she could feel the heat of his fingers through the back of her gown. He bent down until his lips were touching her ear. Then he whispered in a voice so soft that the footman at the door would not hear a word. ‘You wish to live apart? If you do not obey me, it will never happen. You will never be rid of me, until death us do part, just as the bishop said. We will be together, night and day. We will live in the same house. We will sleep in the same bed.’
‘You would not dare,’ she whispered back. ‘I would not…’ She turned her head to whisper back into his face. And this time she was the one who forgot how to speak. Their lips were less than an inch from each other, so close that she could smell the coffee on his breath.
When he kissed her, it was more gentle than their last kiss had been, as if it was nothing more than his answer to the morning greeting she had just given him. His hands were on her shoulders, kneading the muscles until she was near to purring with pleasure. She could not help herself. She kissed him back, eager for more.
Then he kissed his way back to her ear, nibbling the lobe before whispering again, in a calm, unemotional tone, ‘If you do not obey me by choice, I have the power to make you beg to do exactly what I want. Do not forget it.’
Then he stood up and gave her an avuncular pat on the back. ‘Have a good time on Bond Street, my sweet. And be sure that shopping is all you do today.’
The man was insufferable. She had known it from the first moment they’d met. But then, she had not seen the worst of him. At first, she had hated him without reservation. Now, that hatred was mingled with confusion. When she’d agreed to the mar
riage, she’d had no idea that his kisses could make her act against her better judgement.
When he was not kissing her, she was as resolved as ever to go where she pleased and do as she pleased. But with one touch of his lips, she could imagine nothing more pleasurable than total compliance to whatever he suggested. And while he was not totally unmoved by her presence, she saw no sign that receiving a kiss from her could similarly move him to become more reasonable.
But knowledge of the fact did nothing to help her decide how to spend the day in a way that did not annoy him or bore herself. She wrote a brief note to her father to tell him of the carriage race, then tore it up before sending it. At one time, he’d have thought it the most amusing thing in the world. But perhaps now he would disapprove, just as her husband did. It might create an even greater wedge between them. In the end, she wrote a whole page of boring nonsense that even Marietta could not object to and closed with another invitation to tea.
After such a bland missive, it seemed only natural to spend the rest of the day behaving in the conventional manner that her husband expected. She spoke with the housekeeper about the week’s menus, spent some time familiarising herself with the household accounts, then dressed to go out. She made her first official social call: a visit to the home of her husband’s brother to see her sister-in-law, Caroline. Between them, they agreed to take his younger sisters shopping that afternoon.
He could not possibly object to her making nice with his family. Though she’d had no luck with her own, it was her duty to make an attempt with his. A success with the Challengers might prove to him that she was not as difficult as he claimed.
At least she could be less contrary than her husband himself. On their wedding day, he’d made little effort to encourage a friendship between her and the ladies of the family, treating them every bit as rudely as he had her. Now that they’d spoken, she found Caroline to be quite charming and just as eager to accept her friendship as she was to offer it.
Neither was it hard to gain the approval of the younger sisters. On their shopping trip, the three girls occupying the carriage seat opposite her were lovely and well mannered, so she told them so. In response, they giggled. Judging by their behaviour at the wedding, it was their answer of choice for many situations.
Convenient Bride for the Soldier & the Major Meets His Match & Secret Lessons With the Rake (9781488021718) Page 10
