Chapter 18
“Wherein our heroine faces the ton, and an Adonis makes his move.”
“I think the white,” Céleste replied, looking at the row of beautiful dresses with a critical eye. “Oui, I’m certain.”
“B-but, I can’t wear white!” Georgiana protested. It was finally the day she had been both dreading and waiting for. She would be making her come out tonight at Lady Allen’s rout party.
Céleste put her hands on her hips and turned on Georgiana with such fury in her eyes she was quite taken aback. Small and delicate she might look, but the countess was a little firebrand when her temper was up, as Georgiana had discovered.
When she had finally confessed to her new friend everything that had happened to her, Céleste’s anger on her behalf had been quite spectacular. She had raged and cursed both in English and in French, to such a point that Georgiana had found herself in the strange position of trying to calm her.
“What if I’m just like my mother?” she’d asked, appalled. “What if ... if I’m ... fast?”
Céleste hooted with laughter. “But ‘e was ‘andsome, non?” she demanded, her blue eyes wide with amusement.
“Well, yes, very.”
The countess just threw up her hands in a well there you are gesture, which didn’t help at all until she sighed and shook her head at Georgiana and took her hands.
“Chérie, just because you are a woman does not mean you do not want or desire. Oh!” she huffed with annoyance and waved one elegant hand in the air.
“We are supposed to be so prim and sweet and innocent on the outside, but if you got to the bedroom and just laid there like a stick, I assure you they would soon lose interest. They want it both ways these men. But I promise you, in bed they want to be wanted and desired, they want you to gasp and moan for them and call their names. You are perfectly normal, silly goose, and don’t ever think otherwise. ”
Georgiana blushed scarlet but found herself more than relieved by her friend’s blunt answer.
That being the case, she wondered if Céleste could enlighten on a few other topics.
Of course, she’d lived her whole life in the country and wasn’t totally ignorant as to the way procreation was supposed to happen but . .. a few details would be appreciated.
Céleste, of course, was more than happy to fill in as many details as Georgiana wanted, some of which made complete sense alongside the conclusions she’d come to, and others ... which shocked her to her bones.
Their discussion had carried on, in hushed whispers, when they went downstairs for luncheon.
When Lord Falmouth walked in on them and they both fell silent, however, his frown of suspicion had them both succumbing to such hysterics they drove the poor man from the room muttering about addle brained females.
Now, however, Céleste was holding up a pure white dress with a glint of determination in her eyes that was unlikely to be talked down.
“And why, tell me, should you not wear white? Are you a fallen woman? A Cytherean? Did you give the imposter your virtue?”
“No!” Georgiana exclaimed in horror. “You know I didn’t.”
Céleste gave a little huff of triumph. “Alors, then you will wear the dress, very simple with just some pearls, I think, and you will steal every man’s breath, I promise you.
” As though that was the end of the argument, Céleste headed for the door.
“Now I must get ready too, or I will be late, and Alex will be cross.” She winked at Georgiana who knew as well as she did that Alex would be nothing of the sort and left her to attend to her own toilette.
Georgiana sighed as her abigail gave a light scratch at the door to announce her arrival and the preparations began.
Sometime later, standing before the mirror, Georgiana had to concede that Céleste had a point.
The dress was of white watered gros-de-Naples, with very rich lace around the hem surmounted by embroidered orange flower blossoms. Real orange blossoms adorned her hair which was burnished and curled around her head with the exception of one errant curl.
This, at Céleste’s instruction, had been left to fall over her shoulder and rest just above her breast. Georgiana had been scandalised, thinking it looked a little too daring when she was supposed to be the model of propriety.
Céleste had just given her a pitying look.
“What do you want from this, mon poussin?” she asked.
“Do you just want to please all the old gossips and the nasty bitches who will talk about you no matter what you do?
Or do you want to attract an ‘usband? An interesting man who you could love and respect and do the same for you in return?”
Georgiana huffed and raised her hands in surrender and Céleste nodded with approval.
“Then you do as I say. If you look too dull and virginal people will think you are trying too ‘ard.
You ‘ave dressed in perfect propriety but this.” She tugged at the fiery curl with a smirk.
“This is you poking your tongue out and daring them to try to squash your spirit. Tu comprends?”
Oh yes, Georgiana thought with a sigh, she did understand.
***
Though it was still early in the season, Lady Allen’s party was a crush.
Georgiana clung to Céleste like a limpet for the first hour or so, too unused to such numbers of people and too terrified by the calculating looks in their eyes whenever she caught them staring at her.
She took a breath and tried not to wish she was back home, sitting by the fire and reading one of her favourite novels.
“I feel like I am caught in a dream.”
She turned, startled by the soft voice that was suddenly so close at hand and found herself looking up into the blue eyes of her heroic Adonis.
He was, if it were possible, even more handsome in the candlelight, but then of course this was his natural habitat.
This was the hunting ground of the notorious seducer and he was clearly intent on making her his next conquest. The thought amused rather than troubled her as her heart was too damaged to allow another to hurt it any further.
“A dream you say, Lord Beaumont?” she replied, amused. “Should I pinch you to be sure?”
“Oh, no,” he tsked and shook his head. “For then I might wake, and what a pity. For you see, I am remembering a summer night when I was a very small boy.”
She turned a little further to face him directly, intrigued now. He smiled at her, a warm and inviting smile that she imagined had tugged at a good many hearts. “I had crept out of bed and gone to my father’s orangery. I had gone to see if any were ripe.”
“And were they?” she asked, quite unable to resist returning his smile which was as infectious as it was delightful.
“Alas no,” he replied with a mournful expression.
“But it was warm and the scent ...” He closed his eyes and leaned a little closer to her, and when he spoke again, the words seemed to shiver over her skin.
“The scent was decadent, as sweet and heavy as opium and I slept the whole night there like a babe, dreaming such wonderful dreams.” She looked up to see him watching her, and his eyes darkened in the most alluring manner.
“The scent of you makes me want to never wake again.”
She swallowed, aware she was in the hands of a sophisticated lover and very far out of her depth. To her relief he saved her from any further form of reply.
“Shall we mingle and see who can amuse us tonight?”
“No.” The deep masculine voice was implacable, and Georgiana looked around to see Lord Falmouth glaring at the marquess.
“Falmouth.” The marquess inclined his head just a little in greeting. “A pleasure to see you this evening. I was just asking Miss Bomford to take a turn about the room with me.”
“Oh, Alex, do let ‘er. Beau is such fun, hein?”
The marquess’s lips twitched a little as Lady Falmouth came to his defence. “Lady Falmouth, may I say how very lovely you look this evening.”
“You may,” Céleste replied, a naughty twinkle glinting in her eyes and Georgiana realised she was only too well aware of the glowering fury of her husband’s obvious jealousy.
“Now then, run along, children,” Céleste said, making a shooing motion as if she was some elderly dame.
“And, Beau, behave yourself. I’m watching you.
” She pointed her fan at him in a threatening manner though there was laughter in her eyes.
As they turned to walk away Georgiana heard her breathless laughter as she turned to her husband.
“Oh, darling, Alex, how can you be so silly when you know I adore only you.”
Georgiana sighed and wondered if she would ever be lucky enough to be granted a wish as great as that one appeared to be, to love and be loved, with no lies, no pretences and no games.
“They are a lucky pair, aren’t they?” She looked up at Beau in surprise, to find his face quite open and free of what she had begun to see was his usual playful flirtatiousness.
“What?” he asked her. “You think I can’t see it too?
You think I can’t wonder what life would be like if I made such a match? ”
He paused, his eyes on hers very intent.
“Do you?” she asked, genuinely curious. He didn’t answer and they began to weave in and out of the crowd as he nodded to acquaintances in passing. “I used to read of you every week you know,” she said, smiling as she saw him regard her with amusement.
“Ah,” he said, with a sorrowful shake of his head. “My reputation precedes me.”
“It does indeed,” she agreed, as she noticed two women staring at them with obvious jealousy and spite on their painted faces. “In fact, I became quite concerned after you disappeared to Scotland for such a time.”
A low masculine chuckle of amusement rumbled beside her and she couldn’t help but smile in return. There was something quite irrepressible about him and she could quite understand why women dropped at his feet.
“I am honoured to have stirred such pity in your breast.”
“You did,” she said, smirking. “Though I began to fear you weren’t half the rake I’d believed you to be when you stayed away for so long. I thought perhaps you’d ... lost your nerve.”
She laughed at his expression and then shook her head, fascinated to watch how his eyes dropped from her eyes to her mouth and then to the little curl that had come to nestle in her décolletage.
There was certainly hunger in his gaze and it soothed her bruised heart a little to know that she was desirable.
“Now I know how Eve felt standing beneath that apple tree,” he murmured, never taking his eyes off the curl. “I have the most desperate desire to reach out and give that little curl a tug.”
“But you won’t,” she said watching as he raised his eyes back to hers with obvious reluctance.
He pursed his lips as if giving the matter grave thought. “Not ... this time,” he replied. Settling her hand back on his arm they continued their survey of the room.
“I suppose I must relinquish you back to Falmouth. For now, ...” he added with a wink.
They walked a little further in silence before he paused and turned back to her.
“Do you know, I had a lot of time to think when I was in Scotland.” He gave a self-deprecating smirk.
“Believe me, it is usually a pastime I avoid at all costs, but ...”
She raised her eyebrows at him, a little uneasy at the look in his eyes. “But?”
“But what would you think if I said I was considering mending my ways and settling down?”
She suppressed a smile and gave him a sympathetic look. “I would say your creditors are shouting rather louder than usual, my lord.”
He gave a shout of laughter and looked back at her in delight.
“Yes, you would say that wouldn’t you.” But then he covered her hand with his own and his face grew serious.
“And I must marry for money, it is quite true. But it never occurred to me before tonight that ... that it could perhaps be more than that.”
She caught her breath, unable to say more as Lord Falmouth’s disapproving presence loomed over them. Beau raised her hand and kissed the fingers, a warm look in his eyes.
“Good evening, Miss Bomford. It has been a great pleasure, and one I intend to repeat very soon.” He nodded to Lord Falmouth, said goodbye to Céleste and left them alone.