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Scandal's Daughter

Page 13

by Emma V. Leech


  "You can pay me back, you bloody fool, with interest if it will make you happy!"

  "No!"

  The two men stared at each other as Sebastian tried to force down the anger that was bubbling in his chest.

  "So you would rather marry that ... that creature than borrow money from me?"

  Beau let out a small bark of laughter and the fight seemed to go out of him. "I assure you it isn't any great sacrifice on my part," he said with a wry smile. "She is perfectly adorable and very beautiful, and I would dare to suggest - nothing like her mother."

  Sebastian gave an incredulous snort, despite the fact he'd thought it quite unlikely she was cast in the same mould himself.

  "I'll never be able to receive you both here."

  Beau shrugged. "Not while your mother lives perhaps, no."

  Shaking his head in frustration, Sebastian folded his arms, staring at Beau, trying to understand him, which was something he had never fully been able to do. "What makes you believe things would be any different when she's gone? Why should I receive her?"

  Beau just met his eyes and smiled. "Because you are the fairest and most forgiving person I have ever known."

  "Don't try and fob me off with Spanish coin," he replied, his tone gruff, though he was pleased by the compliment nonetheless. "You might be able to use that silver tongue to bed whomsoever you please, but don't think you'll bamboozle me into believing you marrying Lady Dalton is anything other than a recipe for utter disaster."

  "Well at least if I marry her the ton will stop looking so hard for gossip, especially if you can bring yourself to acknowledge her at least."

  "I have every intention of giving her the cut direct," he replied, his tone brooking no argument, no possible point of discussion.

  He heard Beau's sigh of disappointment. "Yes, I thought you might."

  "You know ... she might not want to marry you, did you ever consider that?"

  Beau gave him a smirk. "Of course it's possible," he allowed, though the twinkle of amusement in his eyes made it clear he thought it unlikely.

  Sebastian snorted, outraged if not surprised. "God, you're an arrogant devil."

  Chapter 18

  "Wherein our heroine faces the ton, and an Adonis makes his move."

  "I think the white," Céleste replied, looking at the row of beautiful dresses with a critical eye. "Oui, I'm certain."

  "B-but, I can't wear white!" Georgiana protested. It was finally the day she had been both dreading and waiting for. She would be making her come out tonight at Lady Allen's rout party.

  Céleste put her hands on her hips and turned on Georgiana with such fury in her eyes that she was quite taken aback. Small and delicate she might look, but the countess was a little firebrand when her temper was up as Georgiana had discovered.

  When she had finally confessed to her new friend everything that had happened to her Céleste's anger on her behalf had been quite spectacular. She had raged and cursed both in English and in French, to such a point that Georgiana had found herself in strange position of trying to calm her. "What if I'm just like my mother?" she'd asked, appalled. "What if ... if I'm ... fast?"

  Céleste hooted with laughter. "But 'e was 'andsome, non?" she demanded, her blue eyes wide with amusement.

  "Well, yes, very."

  The countess just threw up her hands in a well there you are gesture which didn't help at all until she sighed and shook her head at Georgiana and took her hands. "Chérie, just because you are a woman does not mean you do not want or desire. Oh!" she huffed with annoyance and waved one elegant hand in the air. "We are supposed to be so prim and sweet and innocent on the outside, but if you got to the bedroom and just laid there like a stick I assure you they would soon lose interest. They want it both ways these men. But I promise you, in bed they want to be wanted and desired, they want you to gasp and moan for them and call their names. You are perfectly normal, silly goose, and don't ever think otherwise."

  Georgiana blushed scarlet but found herself more than relieved by her friend's blunt answer. That being the case, she wondered if Céleste could enlighten on a few other topics. Of course she'd lived her whole life in the country and wasn't totally ignorant as to the way procreation was supposed to happen but ... a few details would be appreciated.

  Céleste of course was more than happy to fill in as many details as Georgiana wanted, some of which made complete sense alongside the conclusions she'd come to, and others ... which shocked her to her bones. Their discussion had carried on, in hushed whispers when they went downstairs for luncheon. When Lord Falmouth walked in on them and they both fell silent, however, his frown of suspicion had them both succumbing to such hysterics they drove the poor man from the room muttering about addle brained females.

  Now, however, Céleste was holding up a pure white dress with a glint of determination in her eyes that was unlikely to be talked down.

  "And why, tell me, should you not wear white? Are you a fallen woman? A Cytherean? Did you give the imposter your virtue?"

  "No!" Georgiana exclaimed in horror. "You know I didn't."

  Céleste gave a little huff of triumph. "Alors, then you will wear the dress, very simple with just some pearls I think and you will steal every man's breath, I promise you." As though that was the end of the argument, Céleste headed for the door. "Now I must get ready too or I will be late and Alex will be cross." She winked at Georgiana who knew as well as she did that Alex would be nothing of the sort and left her to attend to her own toilette.

  Georgiana sighed as her abigail gave a light scratch at the door to announce her arrival and the preparations began.

  Some time later, standing before the mirror, Georgiana had to concede that Céleste had a point. The dress was of white watered gros-de-Naples, with very rich lace around the hem surmounted by embroidered orange flower blossoms. Real orange blossoms adorned her hair which was burnished and curled around her head with the exception of one errant curl. This, at Céleste's instruction, had been left to fall over her shoulder and rest just above her breast. Georgiana had been scandalised, thinking it looked a little too daring when she was supposed to be the model of propriety.

  Céleste had just given her a pitying look. "What do you want from this, mon poussin?" she asked. "Do you just want to please all the old gossips and the nasty bitches who will talk about you no matter what you do? Or do you want to attract an 'usband? An interesting man who you could love and respect and do the same for you in return?"

  Georgiana huffed and raised her hands in surrender and Céleste nodded with approval. "Then you do as I say. If you look too dull and virginal people will think you are trying too 'ard. You 'ave dressed with perfect propriety but this." She tugged at the fiery curl with a smirk. "This is you poking your tongue out and daring them to try and squash your spirit. Tu comprends?"

  Oh yes, Georgiana thought with a sigh, she did understand.

  ***

  Though it was still early in the season, Lady Allen's party was a crush. Georgiana clung to Céleste like a limpet for the first hour or so, too unused to such numbers of people and too terrified by the calculating looks in their eyes whenever she caught them staring at her. She took a breath and tried not to wish she was back home, sitting by the fire and reading one of her favourite novels.

  "I feel like I am caught in a dream."

  She turned, startled by the soft voice that was suddenly so close at hand and found herself looking up into the blue eyes of her heroic Adonis. He was, if it were possible, even more handsome in the candlelight, but then of course this was his natural habitat. This was the hunting ground of the notorious seducer and he was clearly intent on making her his next conquest. The thought amused rather than troubled her as her heart was too damaged to allow another to hurt it any further.

  "A dream you say, Lord Beaumont?" she replied, amused. "Should I pinch you to be sure?"

  "Oh, no," he tisked and shook his head. "For then I might wake, and what a pity. For you see I a
m remembering a summer night when I was a very small boy."

  She turned a little further to face him directly, intrigued now. He smiled at her, a warm and inviting smile that she imagined had tugged at a good many hearts. "I had crept out of bed and gone to my father's orangerie. I had gone to see if any were ripe."

  "And were they?" she asked, quite unable to return his smile which was as infectious as it was delightful.

  "Alas no," he replied with a mournful expression. "But it was warm and the scent ..." He closed his eyes and leaned a little closer to her, and when he spoke again the words seemed to shiver over her skin. "The scent was decadent, as sweet and heavy as opium and I slept the whole night there like a babe, dreaming such wonderful dreams." She looked up to see him watching her, and his eyes darkened in the most alluring manner. "The scent of you makes me want to never wake again."

  She swallowed, well aware she was in the hands of a sophisticated lover and very far out of her depth. To her relief he saved her from any further form of reply.

  "Shall we mingle and see who can amuse us tonight?"

  "No." The deep masculine voice was implacable and Georgiana looked around to see Lord Falmouth glaring at the Marquis.

  "Falmouth." The Marquis inclined his head just a little in greeting. "A pleasure to see you this evening. I was just asking Lady Dalton to take a turn about the room with me."

  "Oh, Alex, do let 'er. Beau is such fun, hein?"

  The Marquis' lips twitched a little as Lady Falmouth came to his defence. "Lady Falmouth, may I say how very lovely you look this evening."

  "You may," Céleste replied, a naughty twinkle glinting in her eyes and Georgiana realised she was only too well aware of the glowering fury of her husband's obvious jealousy. "Now then, run along, children," Céleste said, making a shooing motion as if she was some elderly dame. "And, Beau, behave yourself, I'm watching you." She pointed her fan at him in a threatening manner though there was laughter in her eyes. As they turned to walk away Georgiana heard her breathless laughter as she turned to her husband.

  "Oh, darling, Alex, how can you be so silly when you know I adore only you."

  Georgiana sighed and wondered if she would ever be lucky enough to be granted a wish as great as that one appeared to be : to love and be loved, with no lies, no pretences and no games.

  "They are a lucky pair aren't they?" She looked up at Beau in surprise, to find his face quite open and free of what she had begun to see was his usual playful, flirtatiousness. "What?" he asked her. "You think I can't see it too? You think I can't wonder what life would be like if I made such a match?"

  He paused, his eyes on hers very intent.

  "Do you?" she asked, genuinely curious. He didn't answer and they began to weave in and out of the crowd as he nodded to acquaintances in passing. "I used to read of you every week you know," she said, smiling as she saw him regard her with amusement.

  "Ah," he said, with a sorrowful shake of his head. "My reputation precedes me."

  "It does indeed," she agreed, as she noticed two women staring at them with obvious jealousy and spite on their painted faces. "In fact I became quite concerned after you disappeared to Scotland for such a time."

  A low masculine chuckle of amusement rumbled beside her and she couldn't help but smile in return. There was something quite irrepressible about him and she could quite understand why women dropped at his feet. "I am honoured to have stirred such pity in your breast."

  "You did," she said, smirking. "Though I began to fear you weren't half the rake I'd believed you to be when you stayed away for so long. I thought perhaps you'd ... lost your nerve."

  She laughed at his expression and then shook her head, fascinated to watch how his eyes dropped from her eyes to her mouth and then to the little curl that had come to nestle in her décolletage. There was certainly hunger in his gaze and it soothed her bruised heart a little to know that she was desirable.

  "Now I know how Eve felt standing beneath that apple tree," he murmured, never taking his eyes of the curl. "I have the most desperate desire to reach out and give that little curl a tug."

  "But you won't," she said watching as he raised his eyes back to hers with obvious reluctance.

  He pursed his lips as if giving the matter grave thought. "Not ... this time," he replied. Settling her hand back on his arm they continued on their survey of the room. "I suppose I must relinquish you back to Falmouth. For now ..." he added with a wink. They walked a little further in silence before he paused and turned back to her. "Do you know, I had a lot of time to think when I was in Scotland." He gave a self deprecating smirk. "Believe me it is usually a past time I avoid at all costs but ..."

  She raised her eyebrows at him, a little uneasy at the look in his eyes. "But?"

  "But what would you think if I said I was considering mending my ways and settling down?"

  She suppressed a smile and gave him a sympathetic look. "I would say your creditors are shouting rather louder than usual, my Lord."

  He gave a shout of laughter and looked back at her in delight. "Yes, you would say that wouldn't you." But then he covered her hand with his own and his face grew serious. "And I must marry for money, it is quite true. But it never occurred to me before tonight that ... that it could perhaps be more than that."

  She caught her breath, unable to say more as Lord Falmouth's disapproving presence loomed over them. Beau raised her hand and kissed the fingers, a warm look in his eyes.

  "Good evening, Lady Dalton. It has been a great pleasure, and one I intend to repeat very soon." He nodded to Lord Falmouth, said goodbye to Céleste and left them alone.

  Chapter 19

  "Wherein Almack's hallowed grounds are daunting."

  Sebastian strode in through the impressive doors of his home on Grosvenor square, surrendered his hat and coat to the footman and shut himself in his study.

  Good God but what a tedious and unprofitable afternoon. Two days earlier he had obliged his mother by presenting his own list of eligible females and between them they had whittled the names down to five. Five possible choices for his future duchess.

  He had gone this afternoon to pay a call on the one that had risen to the top of the list. Lady Anne Scunthorpe was the granddaughter of an earl. Her family came from a distinguished and well respected line. Whilst she was no beauty she was by no means unattractive with a sweet, round face and a pleasing figure. She was also accomplished and well used to hosting her father's impressive rout parties since her mother died some three years earlier. She would make a perfect duchess and to make the match even more desirable her marriage price included a vast tract of land that Sebastian had always coveted as it sat cheek by jowl to his own estate and was ripe for development.

  And yet.

  She had smiled at him, laughed at his - frankly appalling - jokes, and never ventured an opinion further than, "I'm sure you're right, your Grace."

  She would never do anything to displease him, she would look the other way to his affairs as long as he was discreet and she would always tell him he was right.

  He felt sick.

  And now he had to face bloody Almack's. Dammit all if there was another place he detested more on the face of the planet, he couldn't yet bring it to mind. He'd have to stand there, like a prize bull, while mothers chivvied their daughters into smiling and batting their eyelashes at him in the hopes of casting a lure to hook a duke on.

  He groaned and sat back in his chair clutching a large glass of brandy. Holding the cool glass to his temple he closed his eyes, and his thoughts immediately strayed to Georgiana.

  Oh God. He couldn't bear it. Not one more day without her. He would leave, he decided. First thing tomorrow he would go back and find her and ... and ...

  His brain stalled. Could he really offer her marriage?

  Beau was right about one thing, his mother might fear him falling into the clutches of The Siren but bringing home a country doctor's daughter as his bride might be enough to finish the old g
irl off for good. Ever since he was old enough to understand the concept, she above all others, had drummed into him the duty he owed his position. The privilege he had been given was great and he must make his own sacrifices to be worthy of it. But did that truly mean he could never be happy?

  There was only one thing he knew with any kind of certainty. He could never be happy without Georgiana.

  So he would leave tomorrow and he would find her and he would see what he felt, how she felt, when they met again. But if she loved him still, he didn't think he was strong enough to say goodbye to her a second time.

  ***

  "Look at this one!" Céleste said with glee, waving another newspaper at her. Georgiana snatched it from her hand and poured over the relevant page.

  Last night at Lady A's fabulously attended rout party, the great and the good of the ton were treated to their first glimpse of the dashing Lady D.

  Dressed demurely all in white this elegant lady seemed to take all in her stride and charmed many, much to the dismay of others. Our own dashing M of B was dressed to the height of fashion himself and was noted to have spent much time in admiring the lady himself. We await with impatience ...

  "The bloody impertinence!" Alex thundered, snatching the newspaper off the table in front of her and glowering at it. "Georgiana, you must stay away from Beaumont. I know he's an entertaining chap but he's nothing but trouble, and he certainly can't do you any good."

  "Oh, Alex, don't be so stuffy," Céleste replied laughing at him and feeding her spaniel a piece of buttered toast from her fingers. "His interest has already done her a great deal of good, and besides, from what Georgiana said he's not toying with her. He means to take a wife."

  Georgiana nodded. "Oh, of course it is my fortune that tempts him, my Lord. Please be easy, I have no silly ideas that he would look at me twice if not for that."

  "Oh, he'd look at you twice," Alex muttered with a grim smile. He looked back to Céleste and Georgiana watched with amusement as his face softened. "So, it's Almack's tonight?"

 

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