The Proposal

‘That young lady you have been dancing with. She’s on my list,’ she said, pulling her notebook out of her bag and looking at her scribble. ‘Ah yes, here she is. Marina Ellis. GFLPCVD.’

‘And what does that mean?’ he asked, frowning.

‘Good fun, loose, probable carrier of venereal disease. Something about an unfortunate liaison with a sailor during her time in Paris.’

The mention of Paris made him stand up and take notice. No doubt Marina had been boasting about her time on the Continent.

‘VD?’ he said slowly.

‘Only a rumour. I’m sure she’ll deny it, but you just can’t be too sure,’ said Georgia, snapping her notebook shut and lowering her voice to a whisper. ‘I hear these sexually transmitted diseases are dreadful to get rid of once you’ve been given one, so good luck. Tread carefully.’

She waited one second and watched his mouth drop open, then turned on the slim heels of her shoes and returned to her table.

‘Mum, we really should be going,’ she said, removing the champagne from her mother’s hand.

‘But it’s so early,’ protested Estella.

‘I’m tired . . .’

‘Oh Georgia, stop it. Stay and dance with Freddie.’

‘Fancy another spin?’ said Frederick, offering his arm.

‘Go on,’ urged Estella as Frederick led her off.

‘Hide me,’ whispered Georgia, hooking her arm through his.

‘What on earth have you done? Spiked the punch? Laced the Dowager Duchess’ cake with arsenic?’

‘Worse.’

‘Darling Georgia, you really are a feisty one.’

They went to retrieve her wrap in anticipation of a quick getaway. When they returned to collect Estella, they were met by Sybil with a face like thunder.

‘We need to talk,’ she told Georgia sternly.

‘I was just leaving.’

‘That might be appropriate,’ replied her aunt, her mouth in a fixed, unsmiling line.

Georgia gulped hard.

‘A debutante is in tears over there, and apparently it is all because of you.’

Georgia glanced towards the exit, wondering if she should make a run for it.

‘Apparently you have been spreading wicked lies about her. Did you not think it would get back to the person concerned? Did you not think it would wound and offend her?’

‘I don’t care,’ said Georgia defiantly. ‘She deserved it.’

‘Deserved it! Georgia, the organisers of the ball have got to hear about it and demand an immediate apology.’

‘I’m not saying sorry. Not after what she said about my mother, and my friend.’

‘The Dowager Duchess witnessed the crying!’ said Sybil, not even listening to what Georgia had to say. ‘You won’t be able to show your face on the circuit again.’

‘Good. I told you at the beginning, I don’t want to be here. Stupid, snobby girls and silly tiaras and men who only want to get their hands down your knickers.’