Obviously the club was the wrong diversion.
Where could he go? Ryland was still nursing a carved-marble-induced headache. Colin’s business associates wouldn’t care about his personal life, nor did they want to hear about anything that could mean he wouldn’t be making them more money in the future. He knew many other spies from the War Office, but aside from the fact that most of them were in France at the moment, they wouldn’t be any good unless Colin wanted to secretly sabotage Alastair’s new plans.
Colin was alone. And since being alone by himself was giving him a headache, he needed to be alone with other people. People who weren’t about to lose the family fortune on the turn of a card.
He made for the nearest coffeehouse, shivering a bit as the clouds moved over the sun. It was a sign he’d lived too long in London if the crispness of the air made him cold. His Scottish friends would laugh him right into the nearest loch to show him what cold truly was. Then they’d haul him out and drag him to the local tavern.
If they were even speaking to him anymore.
He scoffed at himself. When had he become so utterly maudlin?
The aroma of coffee and chocolate hugged him as he walked through the door. Only the addition of salted sea air could have made the aroma more blessed.
“Ho, there! Good afternoon, Mr. McCrae.”
Colin turned to see Lord Trent at a table in the corner and returned the younger man’s greeting. With a brief glance upward, Colin sent a silent prayer of thanks floating up to heaven. What was his mother always saying? “Trust God to give you what you need when you need it. If you get it too early, you might misplace it.” While Colin had never had much opportunity to interact with Lord Trent before, he couldn’t help but notice how often he’d done so this Season. God’s perfect timing indeed.
“Won’t you join us?” Lord Trent gestured to the chair across from him.
Colin sat, grateful for the invitation. Whoever was joining them to make up the “us” would hopefully be as welcoming as Lord Trent.
Lord Trent leaned back in his chair. “What brings you out?”
“Air. My eyes were beginning to cross.” Not an untruth. Colin’s vision had been decidedly unfocused before he’d left the study and had yet to clear completely.
Lord Trent nodded. “Numbers were never my best thing. History and athletics got me through school, and I’m man enough to admit it.”
A server delivered two cups of coffee to the table and took Colin’s order for a third. “I recall His Grace boasting about your marks enough that last year of school.”
With a laugh, Lord Trent leaned forward to wrap his hand around the coffee cup handle. “Griffith is still working out that fine line between father and brother.”
An image of his own sister flashed through Colin’s mind. Was he being a good brother to her? Was staying away helping her as much as he thought it was?
A feminine voice broke into his musings as the all-too-familiar glare of white filled the corner of his vision. “You’ll never believe it, but Jane insists that—Oh. How do you do, Mr. McCrae?”
Colin looked up into the eyes of Lady Georgina. Lord Trent was standing, assisting his sister into the vacant chair in front of the other cup of coffee. Colin attempted to rectify his ungentlemanly behavior and stand as well, but his foot was hooked around the leg of his chair and the lady was seated by the time Colin could rise halfway out of his seat.
With a sigh he plopped back down. “I’m well, my lady. Are you enjoying the Season?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, quite. Though I’ve only been in London a few days.”
What could he say to that? Fortunately the server appeared with his coffee, giving him something to do besides stare at Lady Georgina and wish she were sweeter, nicer, and about a dozen steps lower on the social ladder.
Which meant the only thing he liked about Lady Georgina was her unfathomable beauty.
Which made him an unbelievable cad.
He took a large gulp of coffee, wincing as it singed his tongue.
“You were saying about Lady Jane?” Lord Trent sipped his coffee, his mouth curved slightly at the corners. It was hard to tell if his general good humor was creating the smile or he’d noticed Colin’s overenthusiastic drinking.
Lady Georgina smiled at her brother. “Yes. She mentioned that Lord Howard was seen calling on Lady Sarah not a half hour ago, and if I’m not mistaken, she was jealous about it.”
Lord Trent looked confused, no doubt wondering why he should care about a man calling on any young lady other than his sister.
Colin’s mind, however, whirred to life like the experimental steam engine he’d seen in Leeds last year. If Lord Howard was paying a visit to a respectable young lady, it meant he was looking for a wife. Which meant he was preparing to settle down. Which was a good indication he was ready to pay closer attentions to some of his holdings. Which could mean making improvements and updating the lumber mill in Norfolk. Given its proximity to . . .
With a shake of his head, Colin forced his mind away from speculations and onto the people sitting at the table in front of him. He needed more in his life than business dealings, and that started with being able to set the business aside.
Lady Georgina frowned at her brother. “Honestly, Trent, Lord Howard is a viscount. Hardly the type of man I would allow to call on me.”
Colin nearly choked on his coffee. Had Lord Trent suggested his sister wanted Lord Howard’s attentions for herself? Colin grinned. Even he knew the lady’s taste ran higher than that.
He couldn’t resist the urge to rile her, though. “I called on you.”
Two pairs of green eyes swung in his direction. One set laughing at his apparent gall, the other threatening to spear him through with a spoon.
The sip of coffee he took was more for show than anything else. He was too busy trying not to laugh to take a drink of any significant size. “I haven’t a title to my name at all.”
“Yes.” Lady Georgina’s eyes narrowed to slits. “We must tell Gibson to be more discerning.”
Lord Trent’s eyes crinkled at the corners, giving Colin a sense of safety in pursuing the teasing conversation. Their placement in the corner and the general noise of the coffeehouse kept their discussion private, and a moment of levity was certainly welcome after the morning he’d had. His eyes widened into what he hoped was an affronted expression. “You would deny me entrance after I’ve already been allowed to call on you? A call that lasted nearly an hour, I might add.”
Lord Trent pressed his lips together but a laugh sputtered out nonetheless. He was well aware that the majority of Colin’s time in the house had been spent seeing to Ryland’s welfare. How much Lady Georgina knew of the afternoon was anyone’s guess. After learning that the Duke of Marshington was, indeed, in her house, she’d drifted off in a daze, telling her mother to call her back downstairs if the duke awoke.
Lady Georgina placed her hands in her lap and sat a bit straighter. Her face almost appeared contrite. “I fear, sir, that any time dedicated to our drawing room would be a waste on your part. In all kindness, I must encourage you to spend your energies elsewhere.”
Colin bit his cheek to hold in a smile. “Very prettily put, though I think you do yourself a disservice.”
“I assure you I know my own value.”
“Precisely. The mere fact that you allowed me into your drawing room raises my esteem in the eyes of many.”
Lord Trent wasn’t even bothering to hide his fascination. His gaze flew from Colin to Lady Georgina and back again.
All pretense of politeness dropped from her face. “Pray tell me whose esteem you wish to procure. I shall put in a good word if it will hurry you from my side.”
“I seek no particular esteem, only general consideration. Though being seen with you in a coffeehouse is probably doing more for that than a mere afternoon call.” Colin made a conscious effort to relax, or at least give the appearance of it.
Lady Georgina leane
d in. “We did not purpose to meet you here.”
Colin leaned in as well, wondering if they appeared to be having an intimate conversation with her brother as chaperone. Perhaps he would muse aloud on that next. “They don’t know that.”
She snapped back into an upright position in her seat. “Trent, we’re leaving.”
Lord Trent grinned. “Now? But it was getting so interesting.”
“Now.” She pushed to her feet and both gentlemen rose as well.
“Very well.” Lord Trent turned to Colin. “Mr. McCrae, you and I are members of the same club, are we not?”
Colin nodded with a bit of trepidation. Had he pushed the exchange with Lady Georgina too far? It had been perilously close to several boundaries of propriety.
“Let’s meet for billiards soon. I think you and I might get along famously.” Lord Trent extended his hand with a grin.
Lady Georgina groaned. “Brothers. You are absolutely worthless.”
Colin grinned back as he shook the younger man’s hand. “Afternoon after tomorrow?”
“Splendid.” Lord Trent offered his arm to his sister. “Come along, Georgina. You’ve a two o’clock appointment to have your claws sharpened.”
The smile on Colin’s face as he watched the siblings leave was no doubt wider than it should have been. He couldn’t help it, though. That had been the most fun he’d had in a very long time.
Perhaps his frequent encounters with Lady Georgina weren’t such a bad thing after all.
Chapter 9
“People are starting to stare, my lady.” The quiet, subservient tone of Harriette’s voice did more to remind Georgina they were amongst other people than the words did. Only in public did Harriette become the picture of an ideal lady’s maid.
The street was crowded, and a brief glance around revealed that people were indeed beginning to notice that she was standing in front of a bookstore and not going in. Would they possibly be able to guess why? To the left of the window filled with colorful leather bindings and large antique books was a jewelry store, sparkling and familiar.
Surely Georgina needed a trinket of some kind. A birthday present? A new brooch? A hatpin at the very least. “What do you think of a new pin? I believe I could use a bit more sparkle with two of those evening gowns we purchased.”
Harriette’s brows drew together as she took a half step closer, pressing into Georgina’s shoulder. “You didn’t storm from the house determined to buy baubles. We’re here for a book.”
Yes, they were. She’d been putting off this errand, knowing the endeavor would put her in a foul mood. Since her encounter with Mr. McCrae at the coffeehouse had left her in a dismal temper, she’d hauled her maid out shopping as soon as Trent had seen her home. Time was running out for her to select a suitable reading passage, and there was no reason to ruin two days this week.
“You can do this, my lady. Just as we planned. We go in, go to the poetry section, and select the slimmest volume we can find. Then we pretend to look through a few more in case someone is looking before making our purchase and leaving.” Harriette gave Georgina’s hand a squeeze. “No more than twenty minutes.”
“Good afternoon.”
Georgina startled at the quiet greeting, noting the unspoken question in the phrase. Why did it have to be such a beautiful day? If it had only seen fit to rain this afternoon or at least threaten to do so, there wouldn’t be nearly as many people out shopping. She smiled at Lady Sarah and her mother. “Good afternoon. Isn’t the sun glorious today? I can’t bear to leave it and go inside the shops. I should have taken a turn in the park instead of venturing to Bond Street.”
Lady Sarah’s eyebrows rose before she looked at the sky herself, a small smile erasing her curiosity. “It is a glorious day.” She turned back to Georgina. “We’ve only one more stop to make. We could go for ices when we’re done. It is certainly the type of weather to warrant such an outing.”
“That sounds delightful.” It sounded anything but delightful. However, if eating an ice would help Lady Sarah swallow Georgina’s nonsense about enjoying the weather on the side of the road, she’d gladly partake of the cold treat. “Shall we meet you at Gunter’s in an hour?”
Lady Sarah’s agreement brought an end to the conversation, leaving Georgina once again standing outside the bookstore for no reason.
Harriette’s smirk was barely visible in the corner of Georgina’s vision.
“Not a word,” Georgina mumbled as she pushed her way into the bookstore before someone else caught her and she found herself agreeing to a horse race.
The abrupt change of lighting had her blinking as they wandered farther into the store. Where was the poetry section?
“Left.” Harriette’s low whisper directed Georgina’s attention, and she moved in that direction.
A slim book, already bound in blue leather with gold lettering on it, sat on display on a shelf at eye level. Georgina snatched it. “This one. Will this one do?”
The maid turned her head to read the cover. “It is poetry, my lady, but I’ve no idea if it’s any good.”
Georgina opened the book and flipped through the pages. Words were printed on each page. “Someone thought this person good enough to print an entire book of poetry by him. There’s bound to be one decent poem in the bunch.”
Harriette shrugged.
Georgina clutched the book to her chest. “That’s settled. Let’s go.”
“But what about the plan?” Harriette’s eyes were wide as she looked around the store.
“No one is paying us the least bit of attention.” Georgina hoped, anyway. She was afraid to look around in case she accidentally caught someone’s eye and found herself embroiled in a discussion about the latest gothic novel or some other such nonsense. “We’ve found a book. We’re leaving.”
“As you wish.”
Georgina paid for the book and waited for the clerk to wrap it in paper. The smell of books surrounded her—leather and paper and ink, all foreign enough on their own, but combined left her feeling out of sorts and a bit woozy.
She left Harriette to wait for the book and fled back to the street. Something was certainly going to have to be done about Jane’s new interest in poetry. Georgina refused to go through this every week.
Colin’s agitation had settled greatly after his interlude with Lady Georgina and Lord Trent, but the inane conversation in the corner of Lady Buckton’s drawing room was enough to try his patience all over again. This was a card party, and he’d somehow gotten trapped in a conversation with two men who were both terrified of and desirous to please the London elite bustling about the various rooms.
“Have you been asked to participate in Leatham’s Cornwall project, McCrae?” Sir Robert Verney asked, trying and failing to look at ease.
Colin shook his head, both in answer to the question and in disbelief at the other man’s attitude. People like Sir Robert could easily move in a lower social circle and be the most important person in attendance. Being overly notable never suited Colin’s purposes, though, which made him perfectly comfortable to be the most inconsequential man in the room.
Most of the time.
Mr. Craven, the third man in their pitiful corner trio, laughed at Sir Robert’s question. “McCrae wouldn’t touch that if you paid him. We all know how McCrae feels about doing business with Leatham.”
Colin looked around the room to avoid his companions’ eyes. Leatham was still using slave labor in his northern mines. While Colin wasn’t naïve enough to think he’d completely evaded the practice, Colin did his level best to avoid business ventures that utilized slave labor.
“I’ve made a tidy sum from Leatham’s mines this year,” Mr. Craven said.
Of course he had. It made Colin sick. Fortunately that was one of the few things Colin and his father had agreed upon. Whatever arguments they’d had over the running of the company, they’d at least agreed to not ship people.
“I’ve made a tidy sum off Celestial Sh
ipping,” Colin said, unwilling to let the conversation slide by. He liked Mr. Craven most of the time, at least when they weren’t in social situations like these. Perhaps Colin could convince him to move his money away from Leatham.
Whatever else Colin might have planned to say got stuck in his throat as he once again found himself distracted by the eye-catching glitter of an all-white ensemble. Why was his gaze always drawn to her? She should have faded away, lost in the sea of colors and trimmings.
His internal musings died as the personification of narcissism advanced directly toward him, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was entertaining to contemplate, though. What would the great Lady Georgina do if her target simply walked away?
Which did beg the question of why he was her target. After the exchange at the coffeehouse, he would have expected her to give him a wide berth.
Sir Robert and Mr. Craven continued to discuss lucrative investment options, but the conversation wasn’t enough to motivate Colin to look away from the lady’s approach, even though he wanted to. She cut through the crowd like a beam of light. It had been mere days since she made her first bow at the masquerade ball and already people were calling her the Angel of the Season, confusing her penchant for dressing in the color of purity with the actual possession of a sweet demeanor.
Colin likened her to a lump of ice and would be perfectly happy to go the rest of the Season without risking frostbite again.
At least she was hauling Lady Miranda behind her. By all accounts the sisters had nothing in common but a set of parents. For Ryland’s sake, Colin hoped that was true.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” Lady Georgina simpered, as if she truly wanted to talk to Colin and the two gentlemen next to him. “But my sister insisted we come over here.”
She smiled at Colin’s acquaintances before turning the carefully constructed curve of her lips in his direction. “Mr. McCrae, she particularly wanted to meet you. Lady Miranda, this is Mr. Colin McCrae. I believe you know the other two gentlemen.”
An Elegant Façade (Hawthorne House Book #2) Page 9
