Chapter 7 #2
“Good evening, Miss Williams.” He looked to her right, seeing another young lady with whom he was not acquainted.
“And to you also.” Not wanting any introductions, he returned his attention to the object of his interest and, with only a momentary hesitation, put out one hand to her. “Your dance card, if I might?”
Miss Williams’ eyes rounded, looking from his face to his open hand and then back again. “You surprise me, Lord Surrey.”
“And why should that be?”
Her lips flattened, her eyes flashing as she looked to her friend beside her, just as aware as he that she could not speak openly. “I was sure that you had determined not to dance.”
I had determined not to dance with you, yes, George thought to himself, as he kept his hand out, waiting. But I cannot help it.
“I am sure, if Miss Burnley is present, then Lord Surrey will be eager to dance indeed!” The young lady that George did not know giggled as George shot her a hard look, though that did nothing at all to dissuade her. “And you cannot only dance with her, I suppose, Lord Surrey.”
His jaw worked furiously but he said nothing. Looking back at Miss Williams, he waited for what felt like an eternity as she held his gaze steadily, assessing him.
Then, eventually, she relented. His breath came out in a whoosh as he took her dance card from her and blindly wrote his name on one of the dances, returning it to her just as quickly as he could.
“The waltz?”
George froze. “I beg your pardon?”
“You wish to dance the waltz with me?” she asked, her voice softer now, filled with surprise. “I am sure there must be some mistake. Perhaps you meant to write your name at the one before, the country dance?”
“Surely you will want to keep the waltz for Miss Burnley!” the young lady exclaimed, making George’s face heat, his hands curling tightly. “Unless she is not to be here this evening?”
“The waltz will suffice. Good evening.”
George spun on his heel and marched away, caught between confusion and frustration.
He had not meant to write his name for the waltz, that much he knew, but at the same time, his heart was delighted that he had done so.
Did he truly want to torment himself in such a way, dancing with her when he knew he could not pursue her?
One last time, he thought to himself, going in search of something to drink. This will be the last time I shall ever dance with her… and I must make it memorable.
“You are going to tell me everything, yes?”
George scowled as Lord Dorset sat down in an overstuffed chair, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I did not think you would follow me to Whites.”
“No?” Lord Dorset snapped his fingers at one of the footmen. “But I already told you that you would have to explain everything to me, and this, it seems, is the only way to have you do that!”
Glancing at him, George reached for his brandy. “By forcing your company upon me?”
There came silence for a minute or two, and George, catching the hurt in his friend’s expression, let out a heavy sigh.
“Forgive me. I do not mean to be so irritable.” With a shake of his head, he looked away from Lord Dorset. “I danced the waltz with Miss Williams, and it was so unlike the other dances we have shared, I find myself quite broken by it all.”
“Even though you are courting another?”
George nodded, knowing he had to explain, but finding the words difficult. “I do not want to be courting Miss Burnley, but I have no choice.”
“And why is that?”
Glancing around him, George sat forward in his chair, praying that he would be able to trust his friend with his secret. “You must not breathe a word of this, my friend.”
Lord Dorset’s eyes rounded, but he nodded fervently.
“Miss Williams and I,” George began, his heart tearing as he remembered how much he had felt for the lady, “we met a year ago last Christmas. Eighteen months ago, I think. I confess that I fell quite in love with her.”
Lord Dorset’s eyes flared. “Love?”
With a nod, George scrubbed one hand over his face.
His senses were a little dulled, given the liquor now running through his veins, but it was not enough to make him feel nothing at all.
Mayhap he needed more brandy. “I declared my affection to her,” he continued, keeping his voice low.
“I had every intention of going to her and to speak with not only herself but her family about what our future might look like – but it was not to be.”
Lord Dorset blinked. “You did not stay with her, then.”
George shook his head no. “I wanted to. I wanted to do all that I had said, but a letter from my father changed everything. Within it, he told me that I was now duty-bound to marry Miss Burnley and that the marriage would have to take place just as soon as was possible.”
“Miss Burnley?” Lord Dorset repeated the name as if he had never heard it before. “But she is the daughter of a Viscount and you, an Earl. What purpose could there be in the match?”
Heaving a sigh, George closed his eyes. “There are documents, my friend. Documents that show that, many years ago, my great-grandfather took land and property from the Turnhill family.”
“Lord Turnhill being her father?”
He nodded. “There was meant to be an exchange, both of money and of marriage vows. The former took place, although I believe it was very little given what the land and property were worth, and the marriage did not occur either.”
“You are quite sure about that?”
George sighed. “I have had my solicitors look into the affair. I have put my father’s best man on it, and he has told me that, looking at the genealogy of my family, there was never a match between a Turnhill’s daughter and a gentleman from the Surrey line.”
“And you feel yourself duty bound to right it?”
Miserably, George reached for his brandy, his heart aching and heavy in his chest. “If I do not, then I am expected to return the land and the property, both of which I cannot do.”
Lord Dorset frowned. “Why not?”
“Because those who live in the property and those who work the land are my responsibility,” George answered, gripping the glass with tight fingers. “I cannot have them displaced, not when they have made their homes there.”
A breath blew out from Lord Dorset’s lips. “You are much too considerate, my friend.”
“I do not think so.”
His friend frowned at him. “Then you will give up your own happiness for the sake of others?”
With a lift of his shoulders, George nodded. “It is my responsibility and my duty.”
“But you will be miserable.”
A harsh laugh broke from George’s lips. “That may be, but perhaps in time, I will find life quite contented with Miss Burnley.” His heart screamed, and he leaned forward; the pain in his chest became so great that he could not think about anything else.
Lord Dorset frowned.
“I highly doubt that,” he said, in a voice that told George he knew exactly what he was talking about.
“Once you find yourself in love, once you have had such a lady capture your heart and take it for her own, you will find it very difficult indeed to remove her from it, especially when she returns your affection.”
“Returned.”
The frown on Lord Dorset’s face grew darker. “What do you mean?”
George closed his eyes. “She may have returned my feelings at one time, I cannot know for sure, but I am certain she does not have anything but upset and anger towards me now. Dancing with her this evening was like dancing with a stranger, one who did not want to so much as look at me and certainly did not want to exchange any sort of conversation!”
“Mayhap she is just as much in love with you as you are with her, but she cannot bring herself to admit it,” Lord Dorset suggested, but George’s heart rejected that notion in an instant.
Taking Miss Williams into his arms for the waltz had brought him nothing but agony, for it had reminded him of all that had gone before, pleaded with him to pursue her all over again…
but had shown him just how little feeling she had for him in return.
Her eyes had barely caught his, the flattening of her lips and the tension in her frame speaking of nothing but dislike.
“It is gone now,” George said, speaking as much to himself as to his friend. “What I had once shared with Miss Williams is quite gone, and I must, therefore, think only of another.”
There came silence for a few minutes, only for Lord Dorset to lean forward, looking keenly at George. “And you are quite certain, without a doubt, that there is nothing wrong with these documents? There can be no question about the authenticity of them? There is no record of a marriage?”
George swallowed the rest of his brandy and shook his head. “It is all just as it should be.”
“Then might I ask to see them?” Lord Dorset sat back in his chair as George, confused, frowned. “I want you to be happy, my friend. Let me look over the documents, let me assess them.”
“But my solicitor –”
“Please.”
There was no good reason for George to refuse, and so, with a shrug, he nodded. “Very well.”
Lord Dorset smiled briefly. “I thank you. We must make certain that you truly are bound to this lady, must we not?”
George did not have any hope whatsoever that Lord Dorset would be able to find some error in the documents when he had not been able to do so.
“I fear that, no matter how hard you look, you will find that I am well and truly tied to Miss Burnley,” he said, dejected as the footman brought him another brandy.
“There is no way out of this, Lord Dorset. I am to marry the lady and set aside all that I have shared with Miss Williams… including the love that lingers in my heart for her. It must go, it must be banished forever.” He hung his head.
“I just do not know quite how to do it.”