Chapter 8
To the Interesting Miss Pace,
I regret that I did not have much of an opportunity to speak with you last night at Solitaires. You seemed to be in distracted spirits. I hope you had not taken too much wine again. Perhaps we might converse soberly at the Blakes’s ball on Saturday.
Sincerely yours,
Lady Elizabeth Mortimer
Georgina held the missive as she sat at her dressing table.
She regarded herself in the mirror and watched the colour rise unbidden to her cheeks.
Surely, Lady Mortimer did not intend to bait her into a seduction.
Or perhaps she did. If so, it immediately elevated Lady Mortimer in Georgina’s esteem, regardless of Colt’s innuendos.
She went to her desk and withdrew a quill and paper.
Dear Lady Mortimer,
I fear you overrate sobriety. However, I look forward to you finding me interesting again at the Blakes’s ball. Perhaps you would like to distract me?
Warmest regards,
Miss Georgina Pace
With a satisfied little hum, Georgina sealed the letter and bestowed it on a footman to be delivered to Grosvenor Square.
***
Saturday evening brought the long-awaited Blakes’s ball.
Georgina had departed from her custom of breeches and instead selected a dress of deep red chiffon.
Unadorned with embellishments, lace, or jewels, the delicate fabric, fine stitching,and elegant cut revealed the quality of the gown.
Its bold hue lent her an exotic air. The perfect choice to draw attention to myself, she thought, as she glided confidently into the room.
As a recognised crush of the season, this ball would serve as the perfect guise for Georgina’s plot.
She had recently met Lords Lucas and Horace Blake riding through the park, where they bragged about the vast number of invitations they had delivered.
“We only hope our ballroom will be sufficient for all the acceptances we have received,” Lord Horace had said.
Georgina would make her appearance, then sneak away to Solitaires later in the night.
Being present this evening would mean half of London could vouch for her whereabouts, should Mrs Gardner ever accuse her.
The Blakes had decorated their fine ballroom in all that was opulent.
Ample candles flickered from the shining brass wall sconces lining the great hall.
The sounds of music, chatter and laughter spilled out into the vestibule.
Bunches of white roses clustered in huge vases and added to the sweet aroma of the room.
Bright loops of scarlet silk, shipped from Provence, adorned the ceiling, contrasting with the crisp white cloths shrouding long tables arranged along one wall.
They had not exaggerated when they insisted they would spare no expense for the enjoyment of their guests.
Each buffet was laden high with refreshments, while attendants circled the room, refilling the wineglasses of the thirstier guests. The Blakes had commissioned a splendid orchestra for dancing and established card tables in an antechamber for those who wished to indulge.
Georgina approached her hosts and congratulated them on the grandeur of their home, thanking them for their kind invitation. The Blakes reassured her she humbled them with her presence and offered to connect her to a suitable dancing partner straight away.
“Thank you, but refining one’s dance card for an evening is delicate work,” she informed them teasingly. “I should like to take my time.”
They furnished her with a glass of gin, and she circled the room, exchanging pleasantries.
Through the crowd, she spotted the luscious lady of Albemarle Street, standing with a few of her friends.
They made eye contact briefly, and Georgina saluted her with her glass, but she made a mental note to keep an eye out for the woman’s husband.
Then again, he might not have been able to recognise her—she had not been wearing much when she scrambled out of his marital bed and through the window, and it had been rather dark.
Nevertheless, she did not court that sort of scene this evening.
Georgina surveyed the dancing couples, looking for Sarah or Colt. Alas, another waltzing figure captured her attention.
Lady Prudence Ravenscroft looked as ravishing as ever.
-Prudence’s charisma was what had originally intrigued Georgina, after all.
She watched warily as Prudence smiled up at her own dance partner, dimples appearing in her cheeks.
Despite Georgina’s rude dismissal of the lady at Solitaires the other evening, Prudence had made it clear—through multiple missives and her occasional presence strolling up and down Georgina’s street—that she would welcome further interactions. Georgina remained uninterested.
Prudence glanced up, and her eyes locked upon Georgina. The smile froze on her face. She stopped talking to her companion.
A tightness formed in Georgina’s belly as she recollected her own behaviour in Cornwall. Even she deemed her actions reckless and deplorable.
The Christmas party she had attended with her father seemed so long ago now.
Her dalliance with Prudence was intended only to relieve her boredom during an insipid holiday season.
They had shared a few intimate moments together, but Georgina had not grown emotionally attached to the chit.
On the fateful night when Prudence murmured words of love and excitement about their future together, Georgina knew she had taken things too far and contrived to leave at once.
To her father’s astonishment, Georgina required him to quit Cornwall with her the following morning.
As their procession trundled away before most of the other guests had emerged for breakfast, Georgina praised herself for making such an artful escape.
However, seeing Prudence now, Georgina could admit her retreat had been cowardly. In fact, she suspected Prudence would be well within her rights to confront her about her contemptible conduct.
Not that a confrontation was likely, Georgina told herself.
Prudence was now happily married to Lord Ravenscroft.
Yet her unyielding determination to track Georgina down had been noticeable.
Drumming her fingers along the crystal of her tumbler, Georgina shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
She wished she had never put herself, nor Prudence, in such a position. It was less than ideal.
She turned away from the dance floor and found both Edmund and Arthur approaching her in a determined fashion.
“Gentlemen,” she greeted them both, dipping a curtsey.
Both men proffered her an appropriate bow.
“I say, George. You look a treat,” Edmund declared, casting a critical eye over her through his quizzing glass.
“I live for your approval, Edmund. How are you, Arthur?”
“Qu-quite well, G-George.”
Arthur’s features were a little paler than when she had seen him before. Perhaps the stress of the Great Matter was weighing on his mind.
“That’s not entirely true, now, is it, Arthur?” Edmund prompted.
Georgina motioned for the pair of them to follow her to the far side of the room so they might converse more freely. This also took her out of Prudence’s direct eyesight.
“What is troubling you?”
After a reassuring nudge from Edmund, Arthur said, “I am running short on time. I think Lady Maggie may not wait for me if I do not propose. She wants me to buy her a ring.”
“Well, that is rather audacious. Young people have no sense of romance these days,” Georgina remarked, offended on Arthur’s behalf that he should feel so sewed up. “Perhaps Lady Maggie is not your ideal match if she is this demanding.”
Edmund jostled Georgina. Perhaps she was being a little too harsh on the poor chap.
The wounded expression on Arthur’s countenance softened when Edmund patted him on the back. “Of course she is your ideal match, Arthur. You have loved her this last year at least.” Edmund glared at Georgina. “Don’t listen to her. She is very negative about love.”
Besieged by guilt, Georgina smiled at Arthur.
“Edmund is right. Indeed, Lady Maggie seems like your true love. And you shall be able to purchase an engagement ring for her presently.” Seeing an opportunity present itself, Georgina decided to try her luck.
“As it happens, I have your money at my house, Arthur.” She took his hand and squeezed it, hoping he would not detect her holding her breath.
If he accepted the financial assistance, at least that would remove him from the equation.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “N-no. Not silly, G-George. Need the I-IOUs.”
Georgina sighed. “Well, I have not got those back yet. I have almost settled the Great Matter, Arthur. I hope to have good news on that front soon.”
“By Jove, you are a corker, George,” admired Edmund, his face radiant.
The waltz had drawn to a conclusion and Georgina did not wish to stand in the one spot for too long, lest Prudence found her. Besides, she had to be viewed by as many people as possible this evening, should she ever require an alibi.
She gave Arthur a pat on his arm. “Now, if you will excuse me. I believe Sarah is beckoning me over to her. I wish you both a pleasant evening.”
***
Georgina located Mrs Sarah Fortescue standing before a backdrop of white roses.
A gown of white with a gold silk net overlay and long white gloves complemented her warm brown skin tone.
Her glossy black curls were pinned into a cluster at the crown of her head, and a gold- and emerald-set tiara framed them.
“How stunning you are, Sarah,” Georgina said, embracing her with a light kiss on each of her cheeks.
“There you are, George. It’s such a squeeze tonight. I can hardly find anyone I want to talk to.”