Chapter Six #2
Geraldine wondered if her mama did remember, because she certainly didn’t. Mr Rovington had been living in Upper Bicklesworthy for a little over two years, but it was only in the last six months or so that he’d been sniffing around Holly Grange.
And goodness, didn’t the man like to remind everyone that his uncle was a highly placed governmental something-or-other.
Mrs Foster rose with a patient smile. “We very much enjoy opening our doors to all our friends at this time of year. I trust your uncle can spare you, since we’d enjoy your company.
” She glanced at Geraldine, shooting her what might be termed a speaking glance.
“Now I must see to some refreshments for you, if you will excuse me for a few moments? I’m sure my daughter will be pleased to keep you entertained during my absence. ”
“Of course,” beamed Rovington. “Thank you for your consideration.”
Oh God. Here it comes.
The door closed with what sounded like a crack of thunder to Geraldine’s nervous ears, and she clasped her hands firmly together in her lap.
“Miss Foster,” he began, closing the distance between them. “I’m sure you have noticed my particular attentions of late?”
She blinked at him. “Um…”
“Rest assured, my dear, I have your parents’ permission to speak thusly.” He held out his hand. “Won’t you come and stand by the fire?”
“I am quite warm where I am, sir…”
“Come now. Don’t be shy with me. Why it feels as if we’ve known each other forever.” His smile was cheerfully welcoming.
Unable to come up with a viable refusal…a broken leg simply wouldn’t fly under the circumstances…she rose and walked toward the fire, keeping her distance from the man eyeing her.
“You must be wondering why your Mama left us, Geraldine, my dear.” He neared her. “And why I take the liberty of addressing you with such familiarity.” His smile seemed to display a larger than normal number of teeth.
“I…”
“No, no, you must let me speak,” he interrupted.
If only I could stop you. She sighed at the thought.
“I find myself uncertain, Miss Foster. I’m sure that surprises you, given how well you know my character.”
“Uh…”
“I am uncertain as to your emotions. Let me reassure you that I am completely certain of mine, of course.”
“Of course.”
He seized her hand suddenly, before she could stop him or move aside. To engage in a tug-of-war with him would have been quite silly, so she just let it lie within his grasp which, at that instant, was slightly clammy.
“I am enamoured, Geraldine. You have bewitched me with your beauty and your intellect. I can think of nothing but you for hours on end.” He sighed. “My life has been completely altered by your presence.”
Unsure whether to apologise or not, she remained silent.
“Thus – after speaking with your father, of course – I am emboldened to tell you that he has given his permission for me to seek your hand…” He held up the one he was holding, addressing it dramatically. “This hand, in marriage.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to inquire whether he was going to ask for the other one as well, but she didn’t, mentally awarding herself a prize for her restraint.
“I trust you are not unaware of my feelings for you, even though I have done my best to conceal them. Such a fair young lady must be treated gently, and yet the depth of my affections encourages me to demonstrate how very strongly I am enamoured of you, Geraldine…” His gaze dropped to her lips, and he stepped even closer, sliding a hand around her waist.
Well aware of his intentions, she took a step backward, unfortunately catching her heel in her gown.
She tumbled, bringing Mr Rovington down with her.
He let out an “ooof” as he fell, then seized the moment to grasp her bottom, which was now quite conveniently near his hand. She cursed under her breath and turned her head away from his lips as he attempted to follow that move with a kiss.
“No, damn it, stop that at once,” she wriggled beneath him.
Apparently, squirming women inflamed his passion, as she became aware that his other hand was creeping up her leg, bared by the fall and the consequent rumpling of her gown.
Furious and uncomfortable, she fought to control her movements, and stilled, allowing him to shift position on top of her…to exactly where she wanted him.
Her knee, freed of his weight, rose with force – right into his groin.
He howled, rolled off her and hit the andirons. The poker promptly toppled over and thwacked him soundly on the head.
Geraldine picked herself up as her erstwhile suitor sobbed in agony on the hearth, one hand on his crotch, the other on his scalp. The door crashed open, and her mother rushed in with two maids right behind her.
“What on earth did you do to him?” She looked at her daughter, eyebrows raised.
“Me? I did nothing. He’s the idiot who tried to take quite horrid liberties with my body. It’s not my fault he pushed me so much I tripped on my gown.” She turned her head and looked over her shoulder at her skirts. “If he’s ripped it, I shall be very cross.”
Her mother looked at her, then down at Mr Rovington. “It would appear you administered suitable punishment,” she observed calmly.
“Well, yes.” Geraldine sighed. “I very much dislike being pawed. He never gave me chance to politely refuse his offer, either.”
“I think that topic has been put to rest, at least.” Mrs Foster hugged Geraldine. “I knew you were going to turn him down, but I didn’t think that refusal would turn physical.” She grinned at her daughter. “Used your knee to great effect, then, did you?”
“Just like you showed me, Mama.” Geraldine grinned back, unrepentant, while Mr Rovington quietly whimpered on the floor.