Chapter Twelve #2
The gentleman in question was at present reclining in a comfortable chair in front of the fire in the coffee room of White’s.
In the chair opposite in a similarly reclined position was the man who had, in a way, propelled him into his present situation.
Lord William Dugdale. If he hadn’t suggested the Lyon’s Den as a suitable location to while away an evening, he would never have found himself in such a dire financial position.
At least, that was what he liked to believe.
Lord William was a young man who had never had to be wary of where his next readies were coming from.
He might be the younger son of a peer and unlikely to inherit, but his father was always of the most generous when it came to settling his son’s debts.
Plus his older brother was still not married, so it was entirely possible William might one day inherit his father’s title.
His situation was as unlike Fitz’s as it was possible to be.
If Fitz took the time to consider it, he would have put it down to the fact that his mother had gone against her father’s wishes and eloped with someone he’d dismissed as an unsuitable suitor.
Perhaps he’d taken out his annoyance on his grandson.
Whatever the cause, the old man was now dead and his replacement as duke, Fitz’s uncle, was as unlikely to put his hand in his pocket for Fitz as the old duke had been.
Lord William and Fitz had become friends at Eton, but whereas William had gone on to Oxford to while his time away pretending to study but in reality gambling and womanising, Fitz had been forced to seek a way to make his living and had chosen the army.
The one concession his grandfather had made was to buy him a commission in the regiment of his choice.
He had been assured in no uncertain terms before his departure that this was the last monetary support he could expect.
Knowing the old man, he’d been convinced he meant it.
The heat from the blazing fire was making him feel a little sleepy.
That and the brandy he’d consumed. He’d been here for several hours now, having escorted Georgiana to his sister’s house and left her there.
Something he’d been relieved to do. He had no wish at all to be involved by his sister in the preparations for the ball.
Georgiana might wish to learn how to do it, but he had no desire to do so.
William had only arrived a short time ago, but by the look of him was already a trifle bosky, despite it being not long after midday, and had clearly not shaved that morning.
Perhaps he’d not even been back to his lodgings.
His first actions had been to flop into his armchair, stretch his long boot-clad legs out, close his eyes, and utter a deep, heart-felt sigh.
“Been burning the candle at both ends?” Fitz asked.
William opened his eyes, which were of a startling blue. “I say, Fitz, I didn’t see you there you was so quiet. Got a pounder of a headache going here, so keep your voice down, can’t you?”
Fitz, who so far had imbibed only a cup of black coffee, regarded his old friend with a jaundiced eye.
Perhaps, perish the thought, with the eye of a married man for a reckless bachelor.
“I confess I have little sympathy for you, William, as from your appearance I would hazard that your present predicament is of your own making.”
William returned a wry smile. “I fear you are correct in your surmise.” He put a hand to his temple as one of the discreet waiters approached. “A hair of the dog for me. Brandy. And you, Fitz? The same?”
For a moment Fitz was tempted to join him, but an image of Georgiana’s face rose before him and for some unfathomable reason he shook his head. “Another black coffee for me.”
The waiter departed.
William sat up a bit straighter in his armchair and fixed Fitz with an enquiring gaze. “What’s this? Married for all of four days and it’s changed you already?”
Fitz frowned. “So news of my marriage is known, is it?”
“To your friends. I gather the Black Widow arranged it for you and the girl is quite the heiress. Lucky you. That should be the answer to all your problems.” Not a whit of jealousy marred his voice.
William, apart from being a bad influence, was an open and kind young man and his congratulations would be genuine.
He grinned. “Not at all sure you deserve such luck, what with your previous behavior where the fairer sex are concerned. But couldn’t happen to a nicer chap. ”
Fitz was pretty sure he wasn’t a nice chap. William was being generous here. There were many things in Fitz’s past he was not proud of, but he refused to think of them now. “Thank you,” he said. “At least I think so.”
William snorted with laughter. “Take it as a compliment for it was meant thus. And now,” He leaned forward. “Tell me all about your heiress.”
Georgiana’s determined face reappeared before his eyes.
What was there he could tell? Certainly not the reason for their marriage.
“She’s pretty,” he said, thinking of her soft brown eyes and the curve of her lips and how color rose to her cheeks when she was embarrassed or fired up with excitement about a horse.
“Not tall, but with as trim a figure as any other girl of the ton.” Only she was soon to lose that pleasing figure and not because of anything he had done.
The sudden realization that he would have liked her to be carrying his child manifested itself.
“Something troubles you about her?” William could be annoyingly astute.
Damn it. Was he so easy to read? But he could be more open with his old friend than with anyone else he knew.
“You understand that it’s an arranged marriage,” he said, mulling his words with care.
“Georgiana entered into it with no feelings for me, and I confess I agreed to it purely because of her inheritance, a fact that I now find a little shameful. She is one of the richest heiresses of the season. Perhaps of many seasons.”
“And? Is there a problem in that? Many marry without love and I never took you for a romantic, despite your forays amongst the petticoats. Do you like the girl?”
Fitz nodded. “I do. She’s led a sheltered life under the control of a spinster aunt and not entered into society.
Right at this moment my sister is organizing a ball at which she will present her as my bride, as she’s not been out into society before.
In many ways Georgiana is an ingenue, but in others wise beyond her years. She’s one and twenty, by the way.”
William narrowed his eyes. “A paragon. So what is the problem?”
Fitz shrugged. “I find that I would very much like her to like me back a little more than she does. I have the distinct impression she’s keeping me at arm’s length most of the time.”
William scoffed. “Good heavens, man. Why is that important to you in a wife? A mistress, yes, but not a wife. By reason of her place in your household, she has to like you. And agree to whatever you ask of her.”
Could he admit to his friend that this marriage was not one likely to be consummated?
At least not in the near future. Was that not a great embarrassment?
Even in the most formal of arranged marriages, consummation was expected, even if the young lady concerned was not keen on it.
It was a wife’s duty to please her husband.
So why had he, who considered himself experienced in the ways of women, not insisted that first night when she’d given him that peremptory goodnight outside her room?
“She is…I think she is a girl who needs wooing.”
William’s eyes flew wide. “My God. You haven’t yet breached her defenses, have you?
Well, I’ll be damned. I never thought you’d be caught being backward in coming forward with a woman.
What on earth are you thinking of? A virgin has to give it up some time, you know, and it’s most usually on her wedding night.
Might hurt her a bit the first time, but she’ll get used to it. ”
Why did William’s words sound so callous? He wasn’t voicing things that he, Fitz, hadn’t thought for himself in the past. And yet, he found it distasteful to think of Georgiana in this manner.
He pressed his lips together for a moment and stiffened his spine.
“I don’t wish to force myself upon her. I…
I want her to want me.” Odd how the truth was seeping its way into his mind only now.
Yes, he wanted her, but he also wanted her to want him back.
And although he couldn’t put his finger on why, something was telling him this was different to the way he’d felt about every other woman he’d had in his life. Damn it.
William chuckled. “When have you not been adept at persuading a woman to want you and getting her into bed? Have you lost your touch? Has being married addled you? Atrophied the part of you that should be champing at the bit?” He lowered his eyes to indicate precisely where he was talking about.
Fitz shook his head and chuckled. “None of that. Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’ll tell you. I think I might be falling in love with her.”
“What’s wrong with that? I believe loving one’s spouse is not a punishable offense. Although it is somewhat unusual in men such as you or I.”
“Yes, you’re quite right. I’m unused to such a state of mind. And I find myself thinking that I’d rather like it if she were to give me an indication she might like to return the favor.”
William slapped his thigh in untoward delight. “Stap me, but you’re in trouble in love, my boy, at last. You’re just like the rest of us. But if you can’t get the chit to love you back before the month is out, I’ll… I’ll eat my hat.”
Fitz’s eyes slid to where William had cast his beaver aside. “I wouldn’t speak too soon if I were you,” he said with a sigh. “The girl’s in love with someone else and he’s unassailable.”