Chapter 12 #3
Maybe his grace might see fit to start focusing more on one of them, and she might actually be able to raise her prospects once more. Her father had insisted he help her, but he had suggested nothing towards his not helping her sisters also.
At least if she did manage to convince Mary to go with her to the next event, she might act as a breaker between the two of them.
Maybe then she might actually be able to have a decent conversation with a worthy suitor.
That was before the duke went and scared him away when he called.
Perhaps she might somehow be able to warn them of his meddling beforehand.
Stomping down her anger, she tried instead to put her focus on finding a way around her self-imposed chaperone.
Chapter 12
“I still cannot believe you dragged me into this,” Lady Mary said the very next afternoon, as she sat beside her sister in the carriage on their way to Lady Ashmore’s garden party.
George smiled silently to himself, watching the two sisters as they bickered over Mary’s being there.
He had to admit that Lady Cecelia was right.
It would be good for her to get to know a few people before her own debut.
And besides that, her presence helped to take a little of Lady Cecelia’s attention from him.
After they had argued over the dinner table the night before, he was glad of that. And he had already decided to try and keep himself to himself for the day, not to rouse the lady’s anger all over again. It would not do to go causing a scene in front of Lady Ashmore’s guests.
“You shall be fine,” Lady Cecelia insisted, laying a hand on her sister’s knee. “All shall be well.”
“I shall hold you entirely accountable if it is not,” Lady Mary assured her, and George laughed all over again.
“What is so funny?” Lady Cecelia said, her gaze snapping up to meet his. “Is my sister’s anxiety so amusing to you?”
George shook his head. “I was merely remembering that you shared similar such anxieties several years ago,” he said, meeting Lady Cecelia's gaze.
There was a storm there, one that both unnerved and excited him in ways he would rather not admit.
“I never imagined you so eager to be out in society as you are now.”
“It is my duty to be so,” she pointed out. “I have to find a husband before the Season is over. Or had you forgotten that?”
George gritted his teeth. How could he possibly have forgotten when it had been all he was able to think about since learning of her father's last wish?
“Can we at least be civil today?” Lady Mary cut in as if she sensed the tension that was already growing between the two of them.
George continued to stare at Lady Cecelia, and she back at him, almost as if neither of them had heard her.
He couldn't help staring at her, for she seemed even more radiant than all the previous times he had laid eyes upon her. It was going to be an ordeal to try and keep any of the riff raff away from her, especially if she was so utterly determined to go against his judgements.
The green fire in her eyes roused something inside George and reminded him of the emerald gown she had been wearing the evening before, a gown that had left him utterly breathless when first he had laid eyes upon her.
It had only been her obvious temper towards him that had allowed him a modicum of self-control in not complimenting her openly as he might have done when they were children.
The pale blue gown she wore now, only a shade darker than Lady Mary's, was not nearly so breathtaking on her, and yet, she still wore it effortlessly. The matching jewels in her pinned-up hair made her jet-black locks seem all the darker.
“Can the two of you stop staring at each other like two wildcats about to claw each other to shreds?” Mary snapped at them when neither responded. “We are almost there.”
George glanced out the carriage window to see that Lady Mary was right.
The carriage had turned into the driveway leading up to Lady Ashmore's residence, and already there was a multitude of different carriages pulling up to the stone steps.
He sighed deeply as he realized there were going to be even more people in attendance than he had anticipated.
“I shall promise to be civil if the duke shall promise not to get in my way today,” Lady Cecelia said, and when George looked back at her, he found her still glowering at him.
A part of him immediately wanted to tell her he would promise no such thing, but instead, he forced himself to say, “I shall remain out of the way so long as I do not feel you are in danger of doing something utterly reckless or downright stupid.”
Her peach lips opened as if to make further protest, but before she could, the carriage drew to a halt, and Lady Mary swiftly rose, dragging her sister with her to exit.
As she went, Lady Cecelia glanced back over her shoulder, a warning look on her face, and George had to fight himself not to change his mind on not getting in her way just to spite her as he might have done when they were children.
***
Within minutes of being greeted by their hostess, George found himself in the gardens, surrounded by people, the usual crowd of all those who believed that if they put themselves in his way often enough, he might see fit to give them his favour.
There were the eager mamas determined to put their pretty daughters in front of him, the gentlemen hoping to gain some kind of business patronage from him, and the usual gossipers hoping to glean some kind of new information from him.
And all the while that he was offering them his attention, he had one eye on the ladies, Cecelia and Mary, who stood only a few metres away in quiet conversation, looking over the other guests as they awaited an opportunity to make connections.
Already, George noted several men making a target of them, their eyes pinned on Lady Cecelia as if she were some grand prize.
Luckily for him, the first to approach her was one gentleman whom George didn't mind. He actually smiled as he watched Walter and his sister, Elizabeth, join the pair.
Even from a distance, it was clear to see the chemistry between Walter and Lady Mary, how the young woman blushed and averted her gaze as he spoke, how Walter admired her as she laughed.
And George was unable to stop himself from making his excuses with the eager mamas in favour of joining his old friends. Just seeing them all together in that manner made him wish he could turn back time.
He approached cautiously, hoping Lady Cecelia wouldn't believe he was attempting to get in the way somehow. That she and Walter might ever become more than friends was absurd. If she wasn't able to see the way he fawned over her sister, then he truly had his work cut out for him.
“Might you let me in on the joke?” he asked as he stepped in between Lady Cecelia and Elizabeth.
“Oh, Your Grace!” Elizabeth exclaimed, looking as if he had startled her. She dipped a quick curtsey. “Walter said you might be here, but I couldn't quite believe it.”
“Do you now?” George asked, holding his arms open.
“I still find it utterly baffling,” Elizabeth admitted. “I don't think I have seen you in attendance at a single event since … well, since you returned from France.”
George cringed at the mention of it but quickly brushed off the sensation.
“Well, I thought I should come and see what all the fuss was about,” George said, shrugging. He then added, “And I'm glad I did, for you are quite radiant this afternoon, Miss Avery.”
At that, Elizabeth blushed, but it was Lady Cecelia's reaction that caught his attention. Though he did not look at her, he felt the way she stiffened beside him, heard the way she inhaled sharply.
Why his offering a compliment to another young lady would bother her, he did not know, but it intrigued him.
“We were just discussing what a sorry bunch we find ourselves amongst this afternoon, Your Grace,” Lady Mary put in, her voice little more than a whisper as she leaned in from where she stood beside Walter. “Many of the men here are old enough to be our fathers.”
George glanced about him and saw that Lady Mary was quite right. Save for he, Walter, and one or two others, many of the men in attendance were upwards of forty, even fifty.
He had to bite back laughter as he imagined Lady Cecelia trying to find her match amongst such a sorry bunch. At least he wouldn't have to safeguard her so closely as she wished, for he was certain even she would not be desperate enough to marry a widower or, heavens forbid, a divorcee.
“I'm sure there are many guests yet still to arrive,” Lady Cecelia suggested, looking at him as if she had guessed what he was thinking.
“Indeed, the hour is still quite early,” Walter said.
“Early it may be, but I find I am already quite parched with all this laughter,” Lady Mary said, wafting her fan. “It is much warmer than I'd anticipated.”
“Please,” Walter said, offering his arm, “allow me to escort you to the refreshment table?”
Lady Mary's cheeks grew redder at that, and she turned to her sister expectantly.
“Go on,” Lady Cecelia insisted, “I think I am quite safe for now.”
Lady Mary smiled, dipped her head to George and Elizabeth, and allowed Walter to guide her away. George watched them go, certain the two would be inseparable for the rest of the event.
“I am certain you must be quite safe anyway, Lady Cecelia,” Elizabeth said as they left, and George felt her lay a hand on his forearm. “Walter tells me George kindly agreed to be your chaperone this Season.”
“Something like that,” Lady Cecelia grumbled, and George knew her anger from the evening before wasn't entirely put out.
Elizabeth looked to George with a questioning expression.
“Don't mind, Cece,” George said, falling into the old habits of childhood. He noticed how the lady tensed at his muttering of her childhood name. “She is feeling a little out of sorts. You know how she has always hated these things.”