Chapter Nine #2
“Long walks out of doors, is that not what you said, Marlow? Rejuvenating to the spirits.” Georgiana looked from Lady Diana up at me with what I had learned was her London Season smile.
It wasn’t her true smile by far. A politer version.
A version that said, Agree with me now, or regret it later.
“In fact, he especially loves afternoons at . . . which country estate were you telling me about this morning? Your favorite?”
We’d been playing this game around the ballroom for the past two hours.
The rules were that when Georgiana trailed off, I finished her thought with the correct answer, and I made myself sound as interesting as possible.
The result was her interacting pleasantly with the ton, and my impressing the eligible ladies.
Namely, at this present moment, Lady Diana, who seemed quite interested. Exactly according to plan.
“Ah.” I pretended to think through an imaginary morning conversation with Georgiana. The estate I preferred was the one Father took us to every summer. “Tinlow Court.”
“Tinlow, yes.” Georgiana nodded as though she could picture the place in her memories. “Doesn’t the name itself just sound like a dream?”
Lady Diana looked between us. She had a long face.
Angular features. Brown hair, porcelain skin, and a healthy set of teeth.
Well enough for my purposes. She’d been an eager conversationalist, as had the majority of the room so far, much to Georgiana’s delight.
But I was exhausted from socializing. And deucedly bad at conversation.
I was starting to wonder if perhaps I’d made a mistake trying to find a wife the modern way.
I could have simply pulled a name out of a jar and been done with it.
I’d all but done so with Miss Newbury, though, and look how that had turned out.
I’d found Miss Newbury not long after reentering the ballroom.
Dark brown hair and a slim, delicate figure.
Wearing white, she looked exactly as I’d left her.
Unlike her dreadful husband, shorter than I was by a whole head, though even I had to admit he cut an intimidating figure.
Last I saw him—saved him from a brutal attack, per the gossip papers—the man was all but bleeding out.
Now, his bruises and wounds were all healed.
His face a natural color. And he was grinning.
He had her tucked into his side a few arms’ lengths away from us.
“You’re clenching your fists, my dear, darling friend,” Miss Wood whispered from my side. “And it wouldn’t hurt you to smile.”
Deuces, she was right. I was in a state, and for what? I did not care one whit about Miss Newbury. I had certainly never loved her. It was the principle. She’d made me a promise, and she’d broken it. Worse, she’d made me look like an utter fool. And that was unforgiveable.
The closer we moved to them, the heavier the stares seemed to weigh on my back.
“I hope to see you both again soon.” Lady Diana curtseyed. My attention snapped back to her.
“As do I,” Georgiana said with that plastered, tight smile. She widened her eyes and nodded once sharply in Lady Diana’s direction.
My cue. I bowed. “It would be a pleasure.”
And she was off. I let out a breath of relief.
“A pleasure.” Georgiana whispered through her teeth as we turned from them. “You, Duke, are hopeless.”
“What is wrong with ‘a pleasure’?”
She shook her head. “Women want to hear more. We want, ‘I would dearly love to call upon you, and I shall count the hours!’ Or, ‘It was an utter joy making your acquaintance; I cannot bear to part!’”
I watched as her expression softened, her gaze faraway in romantic longings. Coldhearted, my hat! Had Sir Ronald said those things to her? If he had, he was more of an imbecile than I expected.
“I cannot lie to women. It’s against my principles.”
“Well, if you want one of them to marry you, you’d better give those principles a reevaluation.” Her eyes grew round, brows raised. She was taking this entirely too seriously. “And stop smirking at me. Save your good humor for the next poor woman and perhaps you’ll come off as charming.”
A servant stopped in front of us with a tray of drinks. “Wine?”
“Yes, thank you.” I handed a glass to Georgiana first, then took one for myself.
The servant turned away, offering drinks to someone else, then left.
And there she was. Out in the open.
Directly in front of us.
Looking right at me.
“Miss Newbury.” I cleared my throat, surprised, though I shouldn’t have been. I’d seen her near, but I’d somehow forgotten just how near. With that buffoon of a man beside her.
“Mrs. Winston, now.” Winston tucked his wife behind him. His grin vanished, replaced by an ugly scowl. My lips twitched. I again imagined what it might feel like to direct my fist into his already marred nose.
My old intended frowned and stepped around her husband. “Mar—” She stopped herself. “Your Grace.” She gave me a fleeting curtsey, and I nodded at her.
“My congratulations,” I taunted. “And what a surprise. You’ve healed up rather nicely, Winston.”
The man said nothing in return.
We stared.
And stared.
As did what felt like the entire room.
A hand laced into the crook of my arm. Voice softer than a rose, “Won’t you introduce me, Lucas?”
Georgiana looked up at me through her lashes, a sly smile on her face.
She was perfect.
So perfect, I nearly stumbled on my words.
“F-forgive me.” I ducked my chin in reluctant repentance only for her, then turned back. “Georgiana, may I introduce my old friends, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Winston? Winstons, a dear friend of my family, Miss Georgiana Wood.”
“How do you do, Miss Wood?” Miss Newbury—no, Mrs. Winston. That name would never feel right—curtseyed. Concern writ in her countenance. Perhaps, a little fear? What, did she think I’d forced Georgiana’s hand into marriage too? If only she knew, the shoe was quite firmly on the other foot.
“A pleasure.” Miss Wood looked down on them with the audacity of a queen.
It was almost too much, and yet, I reveled in it.
Having a partner was truly better than going it alone.
Having her as my partner was almost gleeful.
She was brilliant. She did not miss a single measure.
“I have heard much about the both of you. I trust you are enjoying your evening as much as we are?”
“Yes. London is busy and exciting this time of year.” Mrs. Winston looked over my shoulder and reached out her hand. “You remember our dear friend and neighbor, Miss Eliza Ollerton?”
How could I forget her? Mousy and plain with a little button nose. She rounded us with the same look of concern, stopping at her friend’s side. “Your Grace. Miss Wood.”
“Miss Ollerton.” Georgiana looked up to me, then leaned close. “We are acquainted from last Season. Miss Ollerton and I attended many of the same parties.”
My brows lifted. Strange to think she and I were associating with the same people less than a year ago, and yet I’d had no idea she existed. “If only I had been in London then.”
I wasn’t sure what I meant by saying it, but it had the intended effect. Miss Ollerton looked to her friend and took her arm.
“If only you had. Would have saved us both a lot of trouble.” Georgiana turned skillfully toward the Winstons. “How long are you in London this Season?”
“’Til week’s end.” Mrs. Winston glanced to her husband. “We prefer the country, but I—I have never visited London during the Season before.”
Ah. I’d almost forgotten. How desperately she’d wanted to go.
“Is that so?” Miss Wood stepped a mite closer, her full wine glass sloshing lazily in her hand. She was barely taller than Mrs. Winston, but something about her was . . . intimidating.
I marveled at her.
And then she said, “What a lovely dress.”
Mrs. Winston smoothed her skirts. She sensed it too. They all did. “Thank you. We ought to be going, hadn’t we, Charlie?”
I looked to Mrs. Winston, saw her cowering. She would never have risen to the duty. She was too frivolous. Too fickle. I supposed I ought to thank him for saving me from a terrible mistake.
Nods were given, and Winston again pulled her to his side. He made to turn, but it was as though Miss Wood had been waiting for this precise moment, for she made the opposite turn.
The entire room collectively gasped as Georgiana’s wineglass—
“Ros!” Miss Ollerton cried. “Heavens, I’m so sorry. Do forgive me. Look at this mess.”
A heavy scent of wine permeated the space.
Georgiana’s lips had parted. Her hand dripped with red liquid. Wine, everywhere. Well . . . everywhere but on Mrs. Winston.
The majority of the liquid had poured down poor Miss Ollerton’s dress. The foolish woman had saved her friend.
“Dear me. I stepped right into that,” she said, as though she’d done so on accident.
“Forgive me,” Georgiana said through her teeth as Winston and several other gentlemen thrust their handkerchiefs at Miss Ollerton. “I owe you a thousand apologies.”
“No mind, Miss Wood. I know it has been a hard past year for you.” Miss Ollerton curtseyed, and the Winstons quickly ushered her away.
“A hard year?” Miss Wood muttered, hands still outstretched with her dripping glass.
I knew what she’d done. What she’d really intended. It was mean and cruel, but she’d done it for me. To vindicate me.
“Smile, Miss Wood. Everyone is watching.”
She grinned fully then as I took out my handkerchief and handed it to her in exchange for her now near-empty glass. We moved to a quiet corner, and I placed her glass and mine on a nearby table while she removed and dried her gloves as best she could.
“It turns out I’ve lost my touch. I cannot even properly wine a lady’s dress.”
I bit back my grin. It was the most devilish thing to say, but also, in some twisted way, the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. “I think your efforts still had the intended effect.”