Chapter 25
“Wherein proposals are made.”
“What in the name of God were you thinking?”
Georgiana blanched and stared at the toes of her satin slippers. She didn’t know how to answer the earl, who was quite obviously at a loss to understand her motivation.
“Oh, Alex, do stop chastising the poor girl!” Céleste scolded him, coming to sit beside Georgiana and taking her hand.
“It is perfectly obvious why she did it after what the Duke of Sindalton said.” She squeezed Georgiana’s fingers in a reassuring manner and smiled at her.
“I’m so sorry, dearest, truly. But Alex is right, you must ‘ave a care.”
“He wants to marry me,” she said, effectively stopping the conversation.
“Lord Beaumont has offered for you?” Alex said in surprise and then glanced at his wife.
“It’s alright,” Georgiana replied, smiling. “I’m aware of his reputation and yes, the only reason he’s suddenly desperate to marry is because his creditors are getting impatient, to say the least. He was very honest with me. But he is also very entertaining and we’re good friends.”
“But you’re really considering it?” Céleste demanded, the surprise only too apparent in her eyes.
She gave her friend a speaking glance. “What choice do I have but to consider it?”
Céleste had already heard the whole pitiful tale last night. She’d unburdened herself of Sebastian’s hateful words, the truth about his mother and why he’d never offer for her ... and Beau’s kiss.
“You don’t love him,” Céleste said, her voice echoing the sadness visible in her eyes.
“No,” Georgiana agreed. “But not all of us are as lucky as you were, Céleste.”
Her friend’s face fell as Lord Falmouth put his hand on his wife’s shoulder and they shared a look of such intimacy that Georgiana’s stomach clenched with jealousy.
That was what she longed for, that unspoken connection, that deep and unbreakable tie that needed no words to prove the depth of its love and regard, and that was what she was never likely to have.
They looked up as a scratching sound was heard at the door and the butler appeared.
“My lord, there is a Lord Nibley to see you.”
Lord Falmouth nodded and left the room as Céleste and Georgiana looked at each other in surprise. She gave Georgiana a broad smile.
“I think perhaps Beau isn’t the only one with marriage on his mind.”
***
Twenty minutes later, with a scarlet-cheeked Lord Nibley wearing a hole into the carpet, Céleste was proved right.
Lord Falmouth, judging that Georgiana was in no immediate danger from Percy Nibley, had allowed the man to attend her alone. A fact for which Georgiana wanted to throttle him. She sat demurely, outwardly calm at least, while she ran through all the possible ways of letting the man down gently.
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid this really isn’t my area of expertise,” he said, breaking the awkward silence that had been smothering them both for the last interminable five minutes.
It had felt like hours. “If I was Beau, I’d have something witty and charming to say,” he added with a chagrined smile that was rather endearing.
“And if I was Sindalton ...” He shrugged.
“Well, a duke doesn’t have to say much to be impressive, does he? ”
Georgiana scowled; that shouldn’t be true. She certainly wasn’t impressed by his grace. She had loved the impoverished marquess he’d claimed to be, and wished he’d been a plain mister more than anything. Someone who didn’t have generations of ancestors expecting him to make a brilliant match.
“Oh dear,” he sighed and sat down in the seat beside her. “I’m making rather a mull of this aren’t I?”
She gave him a smile which she hoped was kind but not too encouraging.
“The thing is, Miss Bomford,” he began, and as she looked up at him, she found his eyes were serious.
“I know you don’t love me, I’m not so very foolish as all that,” he added with a rather disarming smile.
“But I thought perhaps, if I explained a little, you might consider my heartfelt, if not romantic, proposal.”
She inclined her head, not having the heart to give him an immediate rejection before he’d said his piece. The least she could do was listen.
“The thing is,” he said. “Is that I’ve become most terribly fond of you. You are a lovely young woman who I’d be overjoyed to make my wife. But I’ve been trying to think what could possibly induce you to marry such a dull fellow.”
“Oh, my lord!” she exclaimed, for that was too harsh. Yes, he was certainly a bookish type and yes, her eyes did glaze over when he became particularly enthused in explaining the difference between igneous, sedimentary and metamorphic rocks. “I cannot allow that. Why, you are wonderful company.”
He smiled again, deep pleasure showing in his brown eyes as he adjusted his wire-framed spectacles. “Well, you’re very kind, too kind perhaps,” he added, looking down at his shiny boots. “I’m not about to pretend that I can claim any of the attractions of Beau or ... or your other suitors. But ...”
She waited, realising she did want to know what this curious, rather awkward gentleman thought they could find together.
“But I would never embarrass you. I would be faithful, reliable and your happiness would always be my foremost concern. I ... I think you know that I am ... well, not so badly situated,” he said, obviously finding the subject of his finances distasteful.
“So, you need never be concerned that your fortune held any lure to me and indeed I would let you keep whatever money is yours as your own and hold no claim to it.”
He paused and to her astonishment slid to one knee and took hold of her hand.
“Miss Bomford … Georgiana,” he amended, his rather thin face colouring a little, though there was sincerity in his eyes that made her throat tight.
“I admire and respect you. You are the most courageous, charming and perfectly lovely woman I have ever known. I know my limitations only too well but ... if you marry me, I will show you the world. We’ll travel and explore and .
.. and I will give you anything in my power to make you happy, if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife. ”
Georgiana swallowed hard. Somehow this funny, awkward fellow had made the most charming proposal and quite unsettled her.
She gave her circumstances and her choices a good hard look.
The man she loved could clearly never countenance the idea of a marriage between them with anything other than abhorrence.
Beau was seductive and charming and kind, and he’d be very easy to fall in love with if her broken heart ever recovered enough to make the attempt.
But Beau would likely smash it to pieces all over again as he was the worst candidate for husband material that she could possibly consider.
He’d never be faithful to her and she’d have to accept she would never be his one and only love.
Indeed, love had never been something he’d even offered her and nor would he.
She knew that much. Thanks to him, too, the scandal sheets were full of their shocking disappearance into the trees yesterday.
Far worse than that, though, were the bets that history would repeat itself, that the two powerful men who were previously the closest friends were now rivals, and the affair would end inevitably by one murdering the other.
“I-I truly don’t know what to say, my lord,” she replied, putting one hand to her cheek and finding her face hot.
“I am more honoured than you can possibly imagine by your ... your quite wonderful proposal.” She smiled at him, a genuine warm smile that grew as she saw the way his face lit with pleasure at seeing it.
“I think you underestimate yourself, by the way. You really are terribly romantic.”
He gave a startled little laugh, his eyes so full of hope, she felt very afraid.
She didn’t want to hurt this man by getting his hopes up but .
.. but he might be far better for her than any other offer she could hope to get, and she did need to think about his proposal.
At this point someone reliable and dependable, someone who wouldn’t hurt her .
.. that sounded a rather wonderful thing.
Georgiana looked at him again and knew she could never feel passion for him.
She’d never feel the heated, desperate need to tear at his clothes and lose herself in his body, in his touch.
But maybe that was all to the good. She’d experienced the destruction such furious emotions could wreak. Perhaps it was best avoided.
“Does that mean ...” he began, as if he hardly dared hope.
“I can’t answer you yet, my lord,” she said, her free hand clutching the tapestry cover of the sofa she was perched on.
“P-Percy,” he stammered, looking stunned beyond measure. “You may call me Percy.”
She smiled at him and nodded. “Percy. You have given me such a lot to think about. But I must tell you ... the truth is ... m-my heart is ...”
“I know,” he interrupted, squeezing her hand. “I know that your affections are otherwise engaged. That is ... I guessed as much. You needn’t tell me anymore. But ... can I hope you will consider my offer?”
Georgiana took a deep breath and nodded. “I promise you. I will consider your offer with every seriousness, and I am very aware of the great honour you’ve done me, Percy.”
He let out a breath, looking overwhelmed and then, rather daringly, lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.
“Thank you, Georgiana,” he said, his voice very soft. “But the honour is entirely mine. I will wait until you are ready to give me your answer but ... may I call on you again?”
“Why of course, Percy,” she replied, smiling at him. “I should be very put out if you didn’t.”
Georgiana spent the rest of the morning going around and around in circles as she considered her options. If she looked at it dispassionately, then Lord Nibley was the perfect solution to her situation.