Chapter Nine #3
“You think so?” She seemed almost . . . hopeful. “For a man once besotted by her, you seemed rather unaffected.”
“Well, in truth—and I think you deserve the truth after that—” I smirked. “We’d only met once before I offered for her. And that man, Mr. Winston? She fell in love with him during our engagement.”
Her hands stilled. “Well, that sounds . . . awful. You must’ve felt—”
“Angry.” I swallowed, thinking back to all I’d done.
My demands and abuses from past actions.
I found I did not want to tell her. I did not want Georgiana to think ill of me, despite the reality that she should.
She should find my actions incredibly appalling.
She should fear me, as the Winstons did. “Things did not end well between us.”
Georgiana tilted her head and smiled. “What did you do?”
She’d look at me differently if I told her.
That smile would falter. Fear would fill her eyes.
But I’d done it. So I’d own to it. “I tried to force her hand. Told her I’d ruin her Mr. Winston’s life and prospects if she did not marry me instead.
Her father wouldn’t hear of it. Made me a very nice deal in exchange for releasing her. ”
Georgiana’s smile did falter. But not with fear. She seemed, were it possible, even more curious than before. “A fortunate woman, Mrs. Winston, to have had her father there to save her.”
“What just happened?” Maggie seethed as she stormed toward us. Her eyes widened when she saw Georgiana’s gloves.
“Just having a friendly conversation with the Winstons and company.” I looked to Georgiana, who returned my smirk.
She turned to Georgiana. “What on earth did you do?”
“Margaret,” I warned her. She might not like Georgiana, but she would not speak to her with such a tone. Not anymore.
“I think I made an error in judgment,” Georgiana said, unaffected by Maggie’s clear derision.
Deuces, why did I care what Maggie thought? “Miss Wood attempted to pour wine down the new Mrs. Winston’s gown.”
Georgiana held up her red-stained gloves. “Unfortunately I wined an innocent instead.”
Maggie looked between us like we were children caught with muddy boots and berry-stained fingers. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing. She turned to Georgiana with wide eyes. “Why on earth would you do such a thing?”
“I did not mean to.” Georgiana looked heavenward. “Miss Ollerton stepped between us at the exact moment—”
“Why would you attempt to wine Mrs. Winston in the first place?” Maggie’s voice rose, so she cleared her throat and looked round, smiling at the nosy eyes behind us.
Georgiana reared back with a look that said, Isn’t it obvious?
I shrugged.
She sighed, tugging her stained gloves back on regretfully. When at last she spoke, her voice came out calm and sure. “Because she hurt Marlow. And that is what friends do.”
Maggie seemed surprised by her answer. Her gaze found mine and hung there. Measuring. As though, perhaps, she’d missed something.
Just then, a servant announced dinner.
Georgiana looked down at her gloves, and I wished I had another pair to give her.
Maggie sighed. “You are as mad as they say, Miss Wood.”
“She is honest—” I started to argue.
Maggie raised an impatient hand and cut me off, her attention still on Georgiana. “But I think I should very much like to be your friend. Come, sit near me.”
Dinner passed by in a blur of conversation as did the subsequent dancing where Mother forced me into the company of the most eligible women in the room.
In short, by the end of the night, I was exhausted and foul-tempered, and Georgiana had won over both of my cousins, my mother, and half the ton.
“Lady Jersey is a dear friend of mine!” Maggie was saying as they walked arm in arm out of the house and toward the waiting carriage. “I shall have to introduce you. Of course, I cannot promise anything, but if we catch her on a good day . . .”
Georgiana had an eye set toward Almack’s, did she?
Gabriel helped them both into the cabin and practically jumped inside. He leaned back on his bench and closed his eyes. The night was still early for him. He’d take his own carriage to White’s and play cards well into the morning.
“I see now why our cousin befriended you,” Maggie told her. “You aren’t at all like they paint you in the papers. And . . . I am sorry for how I treated you earlier.”
Georgiana was beaming. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I mean it,” Maggie said. “I like you. No one will speak an ill word about you while we are together. I promise.”
“Did you meet anyone you liked in particular?” Georgiana turned to me with a little smile lifting her lips. A smile that begged for another compliment.
I had no intention of giving her the satisfaction of a real response. “Did you?”
“So sweet that he values your opinion,” Maggie said to her, and Georgiana grinned, knowing full well I did not.
Georgiana continued, “I thought Lady Diana was beautiful. You ought to call upon her tomorrow. Then, perhaps Hyde Park next? Where we all can walk and talk together.”
Ah. Another of her outings. She wanted Hyde Park at the fashionable hour.
She was finding the social success she sought, and I had no doubt, with my aid, she’d be back in the ton’s good graces in a fortnight.
Regrettably, she was right. Best to get both of her remaining outings over and done with as quickly as we could so I could focus on business.
“Why not skip the call and walk Hyde Park tomorrow, then?”
Georgiana leaned back in her seat and mulled it over. “A call will be brief, a walk more intimate. Reserved for if you’re feeling more confident about her. Let’s wait a few days.”
I leaned back too. Smart for Georgiana to draw the outings out. Doing so was in her own best interests, for our names would be entwined for a longer period of time.
A call or a walk, neither would make much of a difference in my decision. Tonight had been a disappointment for me. I’d met dozens of women, the most qualified among them for the dukedom clearly Lady Diana. And, yet, I could not force myself to feel enthusiastic toward any of them.
Lady Diana was pretty, but not any prettier than the rest. And she had said she was “not opposed to, though not overly fond of” pets, which in a polite lady’s terms meant that she hated them. I did not.
“Do you feel confident enough in Lady Diana to call upon her at all?” Maggie asked.
Gabriel’s eyes opened to slits under furrowed brows.
I considered ignoring her question. My feelings were none of her business, nor were they Georgiana’s or Gabriel’s.
Though, I supposed, whoever I chose would become a direct part of my cousins’ lives, considering how often they visited.
I raked a hand down my face. My knee started to bounce.
Maggie was the closest thing I had to a sister.
Would it be all that bad to have her opinion?
“In truth, my first impression of Lady Diana was not encouraging.”
“Surely you don’t mean that.” Maggie crossed her arms. “Lady Diana is beautiful and respected and amply accomplished.”
Georgiana nodded her agreement. “First impressions are dangerous things. You cannot judge her based on a single meeting. Do you not remember ours? And look at us now.”
“Were you dreadful to him?” Maggie laughed.
Georgiana’s eyes locked with mine, and my leg stilled. It was as though, together, we remembered.
“He actually came to call upon my brother.” She watched me as she spoke. “And I had been reading in the barn like an animal. A country girl to the core. When I came into the house, I still had straw in my hair, but he greeted me all the same. I must have smelled like horse manure.”
“You did,” I told her. But the truth was, I hadn’t really noticed.
I’d been so preoccupied with getting my ring back.
I did remember the straw in her hair and a tint of dust on her face and her clothes.
When I thought back on that meeting, what I remembered most was how angry I’d felt.
How wronged I’d been by Gabriel. I’d felt exhausted.
I hadn’t truly noticed Georgiana at all.
“And yet, here we are,” she said. “Friends. You’d do well to remember that sometimes what you see at a glance is not always the full picture. For better or worse.”
By that logic, I could certainly allow a measure of understanding for an awkward first introduction, but what about the fundamentals? Did those change based upon one’s mood?
“I am ill-advised to think Lady Diana’s temperament might change how she feels about keeping a pet indoors, for which she is not at all keen, and yet I am.”
A little crease formed between Georgiana’s brows. The same she’d procured when I’d told her about my engagement with Miss Newbury, and when her wine had missed its intended target.
I was beginning to feel rather fond of that crease.
It stayed as she said, “Perhaps she was frightfully nervous. Perhaps she’d not slept well, or hadn’t eaten, or had just argued with her mother.”
Maggie nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe her cat had just clawed her favorite chair.”
Georgiana laughed. “Precisely!” Her eyes widened at me. “We must know for certain. Which is why you’ll call upon her tomorrow. And we’ll discuss Hyde Park soon.”
I leaned my head back, for no matter what I said, with these two women one thing had become apparent: No matter which choice I made, I was wrong. And for once, I did not feel like having the final say.