Impetuous Innocent (Regencies 3)

“Enough? But, my dear, many girls marry with far less than—er—liking for their husbands.”

Georgiana stifled a sigh. She would have to try to make Bella understand. “Bella, did you marry like that?”

Bella shifted in her seat, her satin skirts shushing. “Well, no. But…well, you know it’s not the done thing, to marry for love. And,” she hurried on, “you’ve no idea the trouble I had, in marrying Arthur. No one could understand it. Oh, it’s accepted now. But if Dominic had opposed the match everyone would have agreed with him. Love is simply not a…a determining factor in marriage in the ton.”

Hearing the sincere note in Bella’s voice, Georgiana debated whether to tell her the truth. But, even as the idea formed, she shied away from it. Instead she tried another tack. “But you see, dearest Bella, I didn’t come to London to marry. I’ve given no thought to marrying into the ton. I’m not at all sure it would suit me.”

To this, Bella returned a decidedly unladylike snort. “Not marry? Pray tell, what else are you going to do with your life? Oh—don’t tell me you’ll be a companion to some old lady. You’ll never convince me you would rather be that than married to some nice, considerate gentleman who’ll shower you with everything you desire.”

Under cover of the dark, Georgiana grinned. Well, she was a companion, although Bella didn’t know it and the lady wasn’t old. But would she really prefer to be married, regardless of the man, to have to tend to the comfort and consequence of some faceless gentleman? Georgiana sighed. “You make it all sound so straightforward.”

“It is straightforward. It’s simply a matter of making up your mind to it and then, when a suitable gentleman comes along, saying yes instead of no.”

Georgiana gave a weary giggle. “Well, if the right gentleman comes along, I’ll promise to consider it.”

Bella wisely refrained from further pushing, hopeful that she had at least made her errant protégée think more deeply on her future position within the ton. For Bella was quite determined her Georgie should marry well. She was attractive, which was more to the purpose than beautiful. And the gentlemen liked her—as evidenced by three proposals within two weeks. She had held great hopes of Mr Havelock, but Georgie had refused him without a blink. All she could do now was to hope Georgie’s elusive right gentleman came along before her protégée got the reputation of being difficult to please.

A GENTLE BREEZE cooled Georgiana’s warm cheeks as she accompanied Lord Ellsmere back to his phaeton. She deployed her sunshade to deflect the glances of any curious passers-by as they left the secluded walk and crossed the lawns to the carriageway. Her hand resting gently on his sleeve, she cast a tentative glance up into his lordship’s handsome face. He was watching her and, catching her gaze, smiled ruefully.

“Forgive me, my dear, if my actions seem somewhat importunate. You’ll have to make allowances for my—er—strong feelings in this matter.”

For the first time since that night at Almack’s, now more than three weeks ago, Georgiana felt flustered. Only this morning she had been congratulating herself on having managed to keep her earnest suitors from making any further declarations. How could she have guessed what his lordship had plann

ed in the guise of a perfectly decorous drive in the park?

“Oh, yes, of course,” she muttered incoherently. She noticed his lordship’s slightly smug expression, and her temper, usually dormant, stirred. As she allowed him to help her up to the high seat of the phaeton, she made a heroic effort to pull herself together.

She could hardly claim that no gentleman had tried to kiss her before. But, in Italy, the flowery speeches and extravagant gestures that usually preceded such an attempt gave any lady all the warning she could need, should she wish to avoid the outcome. But Lord Ellsmere had given no indication of his intent. One minute they had been strolling comfortably along a secluded walk, screened by the lush growths of a long summer from the more populated carriageway and lawns, and the next she had been trapped in his arms, quite unable to free herself—not that she had struggled, stunned as she had been. Lord Ellsmere had, unfortunately, taken her lack of reaction for acquiescence and acted accordingly. Then she had struggled.

To give him his due, Lord Ellsmere had immediately released her, only to capture her hand. He had then proceeded to declare his undying love for her, to Georgiana’s utter confusion. Her mind had been miles distant before he had acted, and she had struggled to manage even the most feeble disclaimer.

And now, of course, he merely felt he had acted precipitately and swept her off her feet. He had made it clear he did not accept her refusal of his suit. He would, he had said, live in the hope she would, with time, see its advantages.

As he climbed to the seat beside her, Georgiana turned impulsively towards him. “My lord…”

Lord Ellsmere’s eyes followed his diminutive tiger as the boy left the horses’ heads to swing up behind them. Then he turned and smiled at Georgiana. “I’ll see you at the ball tonight, my dear. We’ll continue our discussion then, when you’ve had more time to consider.”

His words were kindly, and Georgiana inwardly groaned. This was precisely the sort of situation she had been trying to avoid. But with the tiger behind, she could do nothing other than acquiesce to his lordship’s plan.

In truth, as she felt the cooling breeze ripple past, she welcomed the time to marshal her arguments better. Lord Ellsmere was not Mr Havelock, nor Viscount Molesworth. He had every right to expect her serious consideration of his suit. He was eminently eligible—title, fortune, property and connections. Oh, heavens! What would Bella say this time?

Any thoughts Georgiana might have entertained of keeping her latest offer from her friend died a swift death when, re-entering Winsmere House, she made her way to the back parlour. Bella was there, reclining on the sofa, flicking through the pages of the latest Ladies’ Journal. She looked up as Georgiana entered. And frowned.

“I thought you were driving with Lord Ellsmere.”

Georgiana turned aside to lay her bonnet on a chair. “I was.”

Bella’s frown deepened. “Didn’t he come in?”

“No.” Georgiana would have liked to add an excuse which would explain this lapse of good manners on his lordship’s part, but could think of nothing to the point. Under Bella’s close scrutiny, she coloured.

“Georgie! Never say it! He’s offered?’ Bella sat up abruptly, the magazine sliding unheeded from her lap.

Bright cheeks made it unnecessary for Georgiana to answer.

“Oh, my dear! Ellsmere! Whoever would have thought it? Why, he’s…” Georgiana’s lack of response suddenly struck Bella. She stopped in mid-exclamation, disbelief chasing elation from her face. “Oh, no!” she moaned, falling back against the cushions. “You’ve refused him!”

Georgiana smiled weakly, almost apologetically. But she wasn’t to be let off lightly. Not this time.