“So how came you to get vouchers for the Marriage Mart so soon?”
“Well! It was the most fortunate thing!” Bella seized on the question to lead the conversation on to lighter ground, hoping her intrusion into her brother’s private life would be the quicker forgotten. Dominic had never allowed her any speculation on the possible candidates for the position of Viscountess Alton. And she had long ago learned that any mention of his mistresses, past, present or potential, was sure to invite one of his more painful set-downs. Still, after Amelia’s warning, and her own unfortunate gaffe, she had felt justified in at least trying to broach the subject.
While Hills informed Johnson of the necessity of setting an extra place and returned to twist her hair into an elegant knot, Bella described the recent history of Georgiana Hartley. As she prattled, she watched her brother’s face in the mirror. He sat quietly studying his nails, paying scant attention to her words. His lack of interest worried her. She had hardly expected him to be seriously concerned with Georgiana. After all, he had barely met her and she was certainly not the sort of woman to hold his attention. But his introspection was unusual and disquieting, suggesting as it did the existence of some weightier matter dragging on his mind. Like matrimony. But surely, surely, he wouldn’t choose Elaine Changley?
It was with relief that Bella finally rose from her dressing-table. What with the distraction of Dominic’s arrival, the hour was well advanced. He accompanied her down the wide staircase and entered the drawing-room by her side.
Georgiana was talking to Arthur. Warned by his face that someone unexpected had entered, she turned and was trapped, once again without warning, in the blue of Lord Alton’s eyes.
The same eyes that haunted her dreams.
For Georgiana, it was a definite case of déjà vu. Her breathing stopped; her heart contracted. Her gaze was oddly restricted, the rest of the room fading away, leaving one strong face to impress itself on her mind. Her stare widened to take in his immaculate evening clothes, and the way his dark hair sat in elegant waves about his head. A cornflower-blue sapphire winked in his cravat, its colour no more intense than his eyes.
Then, thankfully, Arthur moved forward to greet his guest.
The worst was past. Georgiana’s natural poise reasserted itself and she could function again. Then Lord Alton turned to take her hand. His clasp was cool and gentle. He smiled and bowed elegantly.
“Miss Hartley. So we meet again. I do hope Bella hasn’t been tiring you out with her gadding.”
To Georgiana’s intense chagrin, her tongue promptly tied itself in knots and her voice deserted her. She managed to force out a weak, “Of course not, my lord,” around the constriction in her throat. What on earth was the matter with her?
Luckily, Johnson entered to announce dinner. Inwardly, Georgiana heaved a sigh of relief. But relief died a sudden death when she discovered Lord Alton was dining at his sister’s board. Naturally, he sat opposite her. Throughout the meal, which could have been the meanest fare for all she noticed, Georgiana struggled to avoid looking directly at the gentleman opposite, with mixed success. Arthur unwittingly came to her rescue, turning the conversation into political waters. He engaged his brother-in-law in a detailed discussion of the Corn Laws, leaving the ladies to their own interests.
As Bella seemed abstracted, Georgiana confined her gaze, if not her attention, to her plate. As course followed course, and the gentlemen’s discourse continued unabated, she was conscious of a growing irritation. Admittedly her awkwardness in the drawing-room had hardly been encouraging, but Lord Alton could at least make the effort to address some remark to her. Perhaps, in England, it was not done to talk across the table, even at family meals.
When the sweets appeared before her, Bella shook herself and glanced about. Only then did she notice that her husband and brother had embarked on a most tedious discussion, leaving poor Georgie to herself. It was on the tip of her tongue to call attention to their lapse of manners, when she recalled that neither gentleman would feel the least inhibited about alluding to her own brown study of the past hour, nor in asking the subject of said study. As she had no intention of once again drawing her brother’s fire, she turned instead to Georgiana.
“You see what it is to dine en famille in Winsmere House? Pearls before swine, my dear. Here we sit, only too willing to be enthralled, and all they can think of is their political problems.” Her eyes twinkled at her husband, sitting opposite her at the head of the table.
Unperturbed by her attack, he smiled back. “In truth, I’m surprised to see you still here. I had thought you were off to Almack’s tonight.”
Bella’s eyes swung to the clock, peacefully ticking away on the sideboard. “Heavens! I’d no idea. Georgie, we’ll have to bustle. Come. We’ll leave our two fine gentlemen to their port.”
Both men stood as she rose.
Georgiana perforce rose too. She could not resist throwing one last glance at the tall figure opposite her. To her confusion, she found he was watching her. But his face bore nothing more than a remotely polite expression. He returned her nod with genial but distant civility.
As the ladies departed the room, Arthur turned to his brother-in-law. “If you have the time, I’d value your opinions on how best to go about this business.”
Dominic started slightly, as if his mind had wandered from the matter they had been discussing for the past hour. “Yes. Of course.” His usual, sleepily bored smile appeared. “I’d be only too delighted, naturally.”
Arthur, not deceived, laughed. “Which means you’d much rather be elsewhere, discussing more enthralling subjects, but you will, of course, humour your host. You, Dominic, are a complete hand. Why you must belittle your efforts in this I know not.”
By unspoken agreement, they moved to the door. Dominic waved one languid hand, and a priceless sapphire caught the light. “Perhaps because my—er—efforts, as you term them, are so undemanding as to be positively valueless.”
Arthur was surprised into a snort. “Valueless? Who else, pray tell, has succeeded in even introducing the subject in Prinny’s presence?”
They entered the library and made for the two large armchairs by the hearth.
“Introducing the subject’s hardly the same as gaining His Highness’s support.” Dominic sank into one chair, stretching his long legs before him and emitting a weary sigh.
Arthur glanced sharply at him. “You know that’s not necessary. Just as long as His Highness is aware of how things stand. That’ll be more than enough.” He handed Dominic a cut-crystal glass filled with his oldest port, then settled comfortably in the chair opposite.
Silence fell, broken only by the ticking of the long case clock in the corner and a sudden crackle as a log settled in the grate. Arthur, who had had plenty of opportunity to observe his brother-in-law over dinner, and to note the arrested expression in those startlingly blue eyes whenever they rested on Georgiana Hartley, continued to watch the younger man, waiting patiently for whatever came next, confident that something, indeed, would be forthcoming.
Finally, Dominic’s gaze sought his face. “This Miss Hartley I’ve foisted on you… I assume you approve?”
Arthur nodded. “Georgiana is exactly the sort of company Bella needs. You have my heartfelt thanks for sending her to us.”