Gentle conquest

by Mary Balogh

  Ralph went very still. "As my wife?" he said. "What has Georgiana done?"

  "What has she done!" she repeated contemptuously. "Sometimes, Ralph, you are the merest child. Everyone else noticed. Stanley certainly did, and Gloria must have, though she will not say anything. Your wife behaved in a most disgraceful manner last night, flirting quite openly with Roger. She was with him for a whole hour and danced with him for only part of that time. I thought I would faint quite away when she disappeared with him into the refreshment room, and I was never so mortified in my life as when she sat alone with him in that alcove for fully half an hour, making eyes at him. Everyone knows what a dreadful rake Roger is."

  Ralph was on his feet. His face was paler than before, though his mother did not look up to observe the fact. "You have said enough, Mama," he said, his voice agitated rather than angry. "Pray, no more. I will not hear any more against Georgiana. Roger is her cousin now too. Of course she will show him civility. She danced with any number of men last night. It would have been quite unseemly if she had been unwilling to leave my side. I saw nothing indecorous in her behavior, and I would thank Stanley to keep such insulting suggestions to himself. I will talk to him."

  "You would do better to have words with your wife, Ralph," she said. "She will be making a fool of you, and heaven knows it is easy enough to do. I am beginning to wish that I had gone into society for a while and found out about her myself instead of taking Eugenia's word for her respectability."

  Ralph, who had been pacing the room, came to a stop before her chair. "Mama," he said, "I will answer for the respectability of my wife. I will not allow even you to call her honor into question. I do not wish to hear you talk about her in this way ever again. Or to her. I presume it is because of what you have said to her that she is in her own rooms?"

  The dowager countess bundled her sewing onto a table beside her and got to her feet, her hands to her cheeks. "I never thought to hear any of my own offspring speak so undutifully to their own mother," she said. "And it is all on account of that dreadful girl. Oh, if Chartleigh were only here still! You will oblige me by sending my maid up to me. I am too distraught to ring for her myself. I am deeply, deeply hurt."

  She stumbled from the room. Ralph made as if to go to her support, but he held himself back. He stood looking at the door, which his mother had closed behind her, for several minutes before following her out and ascending the stairs to his wife's apartments.

  Georgiana was in her sitting room, curled up on a chaise lounge, a book open on her lap. She was not reading it. She was torn between rebellion and remorse. It had been bad enough to have Stanley at the breakfast table asking how she liked their rakish cousin and inquiring how Ralph had approved of her spending so much time with him the night before. She had handled him with dispatch by replying that she liked his cousin quite well enough since he had conversation that consisted of more than unpleasant innuendo. She had added, as she got to her feet and dropped her napkin onto the table, that he might ask Ralph himself the second question, as she could not be expected to speak for him.

  But her mother-in-law! The woman almost never came out with an open attack. Georgiana had noticed that. She would know how to deal with that approach. She occasionally enjoyed a good verbal battle, especially since she had been blessed with a ready wit and a caustic tongue. But how could one fight against hints and suggestions, all very kindly meant, according to the dowager herself? How could one hold an adult discussion with a woman who treated one as a child, and a rather naughty, rebellious child at that?

  She was the Countess of Chartleigh, Georgiana reminded herself crossly, and she had let herself be forced into retreating to her own room just as if she

  really were still a child. And she knew just what would happen next. Ralph would come home and his mother would fill his ears with her poison. Then he would come to her-he was probably on the way right at that moment-and he too would have a talk with her. He also would be very kind and assure her that he was not angry with her at all. And then he would go on to hint and suggest that perhaps she had been indiscreet and that perhaps she should not be seen with Cousin Roger in future. It suddenly struck her how like his mother Ralph was, once one got to know the two of them.

  She would love to have a raging, screaming row with him. She would love to throw things at his head. The only trouble was that she was not quite conscience-free. She had been flirting with Roger Beauchamp until he put a stop to it. And as usual, she had done quite the wrong thing and got herself into a public scrape. The flirtation scheme had seemed to be a good one. What she had not once considered, of course-so typical of her, she thought ruefully-was that if she were to flirt enough for Ralph to notice, she would be doing so for everyone else's eyes too. At least, she thought, she had considered the possibility. She had decided not to go so far as to cause a scandal. But how could one flirt just a little bit, just enough to arouse one's husband's jealousy, but not enough for anyone else even to notice? She must be quite mad.

  So now she had won everyone's disapproval. Plus she had probably made Ralph look a little foolish. And she could not give herself the satisfaction of ripping up at him when he came to scold her. In fact, he might have some of the less-pleasant characteristics of his mother, but even so she was quite unworthy to be his wife. He never got into scrapes. He would never flirt with another woman. Of that she was convinced.

  Georgiana sighed and tried yet again to concentrate on her book. But she put it down with a resigned air of gloom when a soft knock sounded on the door.

  "Do come in, Ralph," she called.

  CHAPTER 10

  RALPH OPENED the door and smiled at his wife. "Hello, Georgiana," he said. "How did you know it was I?"

  "Oh," she said airily, closing her book and tossing it onto the cushion beside her, "I have been expecting you.”

  "Have you?" he asked, closing the door and crossing the room to sit in a chair close to her. "I hope I have not interrupted your reading."

  "Not at all," she said. "I have been all of one hour trying to read through a single paragraph. I am not in the mood for books."

  "Are you upset?" he asked. "I gather Mama has been talking to you."

  "Of course she has," Georgiana said. "And she has really said everything that could possibly be said, Ralph. I do not believe that she has left one single word for you to add."

  "She has upset you," he said, concerned. "I am very vexed that she should have done so, Georgiana. I wish you will not let her words prey on your mind."

  "Why?" she asked curtly, swinging her feet to the floor and smoothing the muslin of her day dress over her knees. "Did you wish to have a clear field, Ralph?"

  "I am not at all angry with you," he said. "I know you were not flirting with Roger last evening. I trust you more than to believe that of you. You have a good heart, and you are a good wife to me. Better than I deserve, I think."

  "But you would still like it if I were just a little more discrcet," Georgiana said, looking up into his face and staring at him with stony eyes. "Lord Beauchamp, after all, has something of a reputation as far as ladies are concerned, and one has to be doubly careful not to encourage him, or who knows what sort of a wrong impression one might give to the gossipmongers? And I have the illustrious name of Chartleigh to uphold now. I cannot behave with the same careless freedom as when I was merely Georgiana Burton. Not that you are at all suspicious of me, of course. But still and all-"

  "Good God!" Ralph leapt to his feet and looked down into his wife's cold eyes in some horror. "Is that what Mama said? Georgiana, they are not my words or my sentiments. I trust you. And I trust Roger. He is my cousin. We have always been very close despite our age difference."

  "Well," Georgiana said, "am I not fortunate to have chosen to flirt in such a vulgar manner with your cousin? Perhaps you would be less trusting had I spent as much time last evening with a stranger."

  "No," he said, coming and kneeling in front of her, the better to see her face
. "That makes no difference, dear. I have seen nothing to disapprove of in your behavior. Please do not upset yourself. Come, smile at me and let me see the sparkle in your eyes again. I do not like to see you look so unhappy."

  He smiled warmly up at her and held out a hand for hers. She did not respond to either invitation. She kept her hands folded in her lap and looked down at them.

  "You are a fool, Ralph," she said quietly, "if you believe my behavior was blameless last night. I was flirting with Lord Beauchamp, and everyone was aware of the fact except you."

  His hand remained stretched out toward her. There was a momentary silence.

  "No," he said gently, "that is not so, Georgiana. Why would you do such a thing?"

  "Because…" She looked up at him again, her eyes blazing. Because I wanted to make you jealous so that you would do something, she had been going to say. But those wide-open, vulnerable eyes were looking back at her, full of trust still. And she was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to hurt him quite viciously. She was hurting so badly herself. Let someone share her pain.

  "Because I am bored!" she almost yelled at him. "Bored, bored, bored! Do you understand, Ralph? You bore me. Always so quiet and so gentle and so… so damned proper! Why should I not turn to other men for company and some excitement? Why should I not even take a lover, perhaps? Can you give me a reason? You are not even capable of making me your wife!"

  And then she gazed, frozen with horror, into his eyes, which had lost their vulnerability. They had become opaque, dull. His hand was still held out before him, palm upward. He got to his feet and closed his eyes for a moment.

  "Ralph," she said shakily. "Oh, please. I did not mean it. My wretched tongue! I have been in a devilish bad mood and have said what I did not mean."

  He opened his eyes and looked down at her. His face was chalky white, even his lips, Georgiana noted in dismay. "You are right," he said, and she could tell what an effort it cost him to keep his voice steady. "I have not been a husband to you at all. And I am turning all your sweetness to bitterness. I wanted you as my wife. I loved you. But I had no business marrying you. I do not know the first thing about making a woman happy. I wanted to bring you happiness, and I have brought you misery. I…”

  He drew a shuddering breath, but no more words would come. He stared at her in agonized silence.

  "Ralph," she said, "it is not true. It is I who have been at fault."

  "No!" he said harshly. "Never say that, Georgiana. I will not have you blame yourself. I must… I will.,." He paused and sighed in frustration. "I have to leave. Just do not feel guilty, please. There really is no need. You did not behave with any impropriety last night."

  He turned and left the room hurriedly, even as she jumped to her feet and reached out her arms for him.

  ***

  Lord Beauchamp arrived at Middleton House the following afternoon just as Georgiana was about to leave. The butler, as she came down the stairs to the hallway in her pelisse and bonnet, bowed and informed her ladyship that the visitor had been shown into the drawing room but had asked specifically for her.

  "Oh, bother," Georgiana muttered. "Is there anyone in the drawing room?"

  "Her ladyship, ma'am," the butler replied.

  By which title Georgiana guessed him to mean her mother-in-law. Gloria had gone out with her aunt in the morning to shop for her trousseau and was not expected to return before dinner. Her mother had been indisposed and unable to accompany her. But she had obviously decided that she was un-indisposed, Georgiana thought nastily. Probably the recovery had been made when she heard that her daughter-in-law was on her way out to visit her parents.

  Georgiana considered continuing on her way out of the house, but she sighed and turned to climb the stairs again to the drawing room. She continued to pull on her gloves as a footman opened the double doors for her.

  "Good afternoon, Mother," she said. "Is your headache better? Good day, Roger." _

  Lord Beauchamp was on his feet and bowing to her. "Good afternoon, Georgie," he said. "I see I have come calling at an inopportune moment. May I see you to your carriage?"

  "I am going to Papa's," she said, "on foot."

  "On foot? Georgiana! That will never do," the dowager said, surprised out of the icy silence with which she had received her daughter-in-law's greeting. "Would you have all our acquaintances believe that Chartleigh is too miserly to allow you the carriage?"

  "By no means, Mother," Georgiana said calmly. "It is a mere ten-minute walk. By the time I order out the carriage, I shall be there already."

  "You are taking your maid, my dear?"

  "I had not planned to," Georgiana said.

  "Then allow me to escort you, ma'am," Roger said. "It will set Aunt Hilda's mind at rest to know that you are properly accompanied."

  Georgiana did not look to see how the dowager had received this dubious reassurance. She smiled at Lord Beauchamp.

  "I had not thought that walking would be in your line, Roger," she said. "But I shall not refuse your offer Shall we go?"

  A few minutes later they were walking along the street, her arm linked through his.

  "Well, Georgie," he said, breaking the silence, "you are looking remarkably elegant. But a trifle out of sorts?"

  "Oh, no, sir," she said. "Whatever makes you say so?"

  "Nothing at all except a certain absence of inclination to talk," he said. "I believe that to be out of character."

  "Oh," she said, "but then, it is not always easy to chatter away to a virtual stranger."

  "A stranger?" he said, looking at her sideways, amusement on his face. "Do I take it that I must drop `Georgie' and address you as 'Countess of Chartleigh' again?"

  "Oh, of course not," she said, dimpling. "What an absurd idea."

  "I thought only your friends called you 'Georgie'," he said.

  "And so they do," she replied.

  "And how can I be both a stranger and your friend?" he asked.

  She laughed lightly. "Ali," she said. "There you have me, Roger. It is just that I was very indiscreet the other night. It puts me to the blush just to recall how freely I talked to you."

  "I was honored to be so confided in," he said. "And I have put my brains to work to quite an extraordinary degree in your behalf. I think I have the solution to your little problem."

  "Indeed?" she asked guardedly.

  "Assuredly," he said. "You wish to have a bolder, more assertive husband. Am I right?"

  "Well," she said, "it is not that I do not like Ralph as he is."

  "Oh, quite," he agreed. "But ladies, I have found, like to be able to relax in the knowledge that their men have… er, some little experience, shall we say?"

  Georgiana blushed and stared straight ahead.

  "I have thought that perhaps I can help my young cousin to gain that experience," Roger Beauchamp explained.

  "What?" Georgiana squeaked. "You mean as in mistresses and such?"

  "It cannot do Ralph any harm to sow some wild oats, can it, Georgie?" he asked. "And you stand only to gain, my dear, considering the present lamentable state of your marriage."

  "I fail to see how I would gain from my husband's taking up with a- mistress, sir," Georgiana said caustically. "And what do you know of the state of my marriage, pray?"

  "Oh, come now, Georgie," Roger said, laughing down at her. "You admitted to me at the Boothby's party that you are-shall we say?-in your maidenly innocence still."

  "I said no such thing!" Georgiana said indignantly. "And how dare you speak to me of such a matter, sir!"

  Roger stopped walking, threw back his head, and roared with laughter. "I really do not know how I dare," he said. "I could never have imagined myself having such a conversation with any lady, let alone the very young and very innocent wife of my cousin. But you started it all, you know, Georgie. You are the one who flirted quite outrageously with me and succeeded in arousing my interest in your affairs. 'Affairs' being not quite the word, of course."

  "Well,
I have never heard anything so outrageous in my life," Georgiana said. "Do you really have the nerve to suggest to me that I permit you to find my husband a mistress so that he may prove to be a better husband to me?"

  Roger patted her hand on his arm and started walking again, "In short, yes," he said.

  “I will not hear of it," she said.

  They walked a few paces in silence. Around the next corner, they would be able to see her father's house.

  "And did you have anyone in mind, pray?" Georgiana sked sharply.

  "Certainly," he said. "When I think, Georgie, I think in practicalities."

  "What is she like?" Georgiana asked.

  "Are you sure you wish to know?" Roger said. He looked at her indignant face and laughed. "She is small and slim. A dancer."

  "I don't like her," she said.

  "You do not have to," Roger replied. "She is not unlike you in size, Georgie, but no match for you in looks or breeding. You need not be afraid that Ralph will become attached to her."

  "I am not at all afraid of any such thing," she said. "He will never even see her."

  "Oh, he has already done so," Roger said. "Did he not tell you that he attended the opera with me last night?"

  "Roger," she said with ominous calm, "has this affair already begun? Is that what this insane conversation is all about?"

  "Oh, by no means," Roger said. "He has seen her on the stage, you will understand, but he has not met her."

  "You are to see to it that he never does meet her,"

  Georgiana said. "Or any other… female. Do you understand me, Roger? If Ralph is ever unfaithful to me, I shall hold you personally responsible."

  He laughed and patted her hand again. "This begins to look more and more interesting," he said. "You know, Georgie, I think you are a fair way to being in love with my young cousin."

  "Nonsense," she said. "But Ralph is a sweet innocent. He needs to be protected from the world of mistresses and ladybirds. He would not know how to cope."

  Roger roared with laughter again. "And you know everything there is to know about that world," he said. "Georgie! You are a veritable delight. I could almost find it in me to envy Ralph. I wonder if he will ever learn to cope with you."