“I am with child.”
“Markham.”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“What will you do?”
“The only thing I can. Expose him.”
“And risk all?”
“What choice do I have?”
“You have proof?”
She pulled from her reticule some letters. “I found them in a secret compartment of his desk. It took me three days to find them and the butler almost caught me twice. It is Edward’s handwriting. I must take them to Major Price.”
Peter studied the papers and then gave them back to her. “You must put them back.”
“I can’t just let him continue to betray this country. Think of all the soldiers dying on both sides. Information like this could be the very reason Napoleon has been so successful, and the war will continue drag on. I cannot let him continue, Peter. More soldiers will die.”
“Soldiers? Or Nicholas?”
She remained silent.
“There has to be another way to stop him, Georgiana. If you do this, they will not only hang him, but you, for he will implicate you in his anger. Then they will strip his title, and the Crown will take Ravenstone and give it to someone else. Rupert will not inherit it.”
“Oh, God, I had not thought of that,” she cried. “But what can I do?”
“You have two choices. Let him continue and hope Napoleon loses anyway.”
“Or?”
“Or we find another way.”
“He must be stopped, Peter.”
“Let me think on it,” he said. “For now, I want you to put these back exactly where you found them. Come on.”
He took her by the hand and walked her out of the park, and hailed a hackney to take them back. He left her a few blocks from the house, walking the rest of the way on his own. He could not be seen arriving with her.
***
Georgiana studied her reflection in the mirror. The empire line of her dress was high, cut just under her bosom, and she adjusted the neckline trying to cover more of her chest, but the low cut would not allow for it. She sighed, feeling far too exposed. The dress was short sleeved and she pulled her long gloves up over her elbows. The white Indian muslin dress was of the highest fashion and had cost far too much, but the ball they were to attend demanded such an expense.
She ran a hand along the diamonds that glittered at her throat, the large stones catching the light. The jewelry must have cost a small fortune. Edward had insisted she wear the necklace along with the earrings. She turned her head to study her hair. Harriet had so expertly weaved long pieces of hair into her own strands and then piled them onto her head in a beautiful style. Her makeup emphasized her eyes and lips, and once again, she hardly recognized herself. The image reminded her of the one she had seen before for the Evansgate Ball.
She wondered if Nicholas would attend the Regent’s fete. Everyone else seemed to be. The end of the little season in London, a fete of this magnitude was strangely timed. The Regent, however, had ruled now in his father’s place some years, and he had garnered a reputation for lavish gatherings, famous for their extravagance. Hundreds of guests had been invited to Carlton house, and no expense had been spared for the evening. Every tailor, weaver, painter, carpenter, cook, and confectioner in London had been busy for weeks in preparation for this evening.
She turned from the mirror and thanked Harriet for making her beautiful. The girl curtsied and smiled, following her out, and watched her descend the grand staircase.
The carriage drew up outside the house, and Edward glanced up at her, and smiled.
“Your new wardrobe has quite done you justice for you look truly lovely.”
She smiled stiffly and paused to allow him to place her cloak about her shoulders. Then she placed her hand on his and he led her out to the new carriage he had purchased for this event alone. The horses were a perfect white and she studied them critically for a moment, but could find no fault. They were well bred. The carriage itself ostentatious, she loathed having to step into the white contraption with gilded trim. The interior was a gaudy scarlet, and she winced at the spectacle they must be creating.
“You will surely attract the wrong attention in this fright,” she said as he settled himself next to her.
“The Prince himself has complimented me on my good taste.”
“A man does not have taste just because he is a Prince.”
“A treasonous statement, my dear,” he said, his voice biting. “I have no wish to remind you that tonight you will keep your comments befitting your station.”
“Then why bring me at all?”
“It is expected I attend with my wife for this is still a civilized country. I need not warn you, I hope, that I could—”
“—expose me for the whore I am and annul the marriage. Yes I know, I know, I have heard it often enough this past week. It is a bore, Edward, and you really must find perhaps new adjectives to describe me, or I fear I will die from tedium before you can make good your threat.” She could see she had angered him, and glanced at the fist he made of his hand. She smiled and glanced out the window.
“You think to provoke me?” he asked.
“I am beyond caring.”
“Or you think yourself safe now that most know you are to have my child?”
It was true she felt both less frightened by him, and she was beyond caring. She was more concerned about Peter. He had disappeared, leaving only a note to say he would return, but not when. What was he up to and where could he have gone for an entire week?
She and Edward ignored each other the rest of the way, and she studied the crowds that began to form the closer they drew to Carlton House. The streets were lined with people to watch the spectacle of the rich and titled pass in all their finery.
She wondered what they must be thinking. They were the poor and the middle class. The diamonds she wore would feed and house a family for years. The Horse Guards lined the Mall and St James’s Street and police kept the crowds back while the Foot Guards protected the avenues around Carlton house. The carriage slowed as they reached their destination, waiting in a long line that pulled up to the impressive colonnaded entrance.
When the carriage reached the front of the line, the door swung open and Georgiana stepped down onto a rich carpet that led through a hexagonal portico of Corinthian columns to the foyer. With her hand on Edward’s, he led her inside. They entered under a grand arched doorway, and her eyes were drawn to the elegant scarlet and gold drapery.
“Lovely, isn’t it?”
Georgiana turned toward the voice to see Lady Cloverdale standing beside her. She stood beside her husband, who bowed to her. Georgiana curtsied in response.
“We are well met,” said Lord Cloverdale, and he turned to Edward to point someone out to him.
Georgiana turned to Lady Cloverdale and smiled, happy to see her again.
“You are, as Edward has informed us, quite able to walk again,” Lady Cloverdale said. “I tried to call on you when we returned to London but you were out enjoying your new freedom, no doubt.”
“Yes,” she smiled. “It is wonderful to be so blessed, and I must confess I have been remiss in calling on my friends for I have been busy with dress fittings and shopping.”
“It is quite understandable.”
“I am sorry to have not come to see you,” she said, meaning it. “You were kind to me at Ravenstone, and I missed your company after your departure.”
“We have met now again and we will say nothing more of it. I have never seen such a crush in my life,” Lady Cloverdale said, gazing at the crowd around them. Her voice was slightly raised to be heard.
“It is the event of the little season, no doubt,” Edward said as his attention returned to them. “Not an ideal time for such a fete, but I for one have come to enjoy all the occasions when the Prince deems to throw open the doors of Carlton House. Come let us make our way into the staterooms.”
The entrance was crowded wi
th the fashionable life of London, nobility and gentry alike, and they made their way with some difficulty into the rooms beyond it. Also present were the French noble family and foreign ambassadors from the Continent. Women wore elegant dresses, sparkling with jewels, and waving plumes filled the air with movement.
The men wore court suits of rich fabrics and embroidery and there were also those who wore their military uniforms. The upper servants proudly wore dark blue uniforms trimmed with broad gold lace, which added even more hue to an already colorful scene.
“Look at the Marchioness of Downshire,” Lady Cloverdale whispered. “The size of her diamonds is surely in bad taste.”
Georgiana looked over her shoulder discreetly to see a woman in a splendid white dress trimmed in Spanish lace. She did indeed wear a pair of the largest diamond earrings Georgiana had ever seen. Georgiana also admired the Marchioness of Stafford, who glided by on her escort’s arm in a violet satin dress richly embroidered in gold.
“Come, you must see the room to rival all rooms,” Lady Cloverdale said and led the way.
The throne room was what she meant. Hung with crimson velvet and decorated with ornaments of pure gold, the canopy was beautifully carved, gilt and antique draperies hung on either side to complement the state chair and footstool. The room held two superb looking glasses in gold frames twelve feet high. Full-length portraits of the Royal Family hung on the walls, masterfully painted. These too were in gold frames.
“Such wealth,” Edward sighed. “It is surely a sign that our nation rides the pinnacle of its greatness.”
“Such wealth comes at a great expense to others,” Georgiana admonished him.
“You have a charitable heart,” Lady Cloverdale said before Edward could retort. “It is becoming of you, though misplaced tonight among this crowd. Come, I hear the music has started in the ballroom, and I wager it is there we shall find the Regent himself.”
The ballroom was decorated in an Arabesque theme and the finery about the room again reflected the wealth spent so recently on the rooms. The ceiling was ornamented in compartments, and figures were painted in panels around the room on gold backgrounds. The windows were circular with rich blue draperies with gold fringes and ropes. Sofas covered also in blue velvet and chairs of similar style were distributed about the room and occupied by ladies. The massive fireplace was of marble and ornamented with figures in bronze.
“There he is,” Edward said and Georgiana followed his gaze to the Prince.
He stood amongst the crowd in a rich scarlet coat, elaborately embroidered with gold lace.
“It’s shameful what he has done to his own father,” Georgiana said.
“A mad king cannot rule,” Edward said. “He had no choice but to have Parliament declare him Regent.”
“And see what he does with the kingdom,” she said. “He entertains lavishly and frequently, spending hard-won wealth on his whims. I know for a fact Parliament is ill-pleased with him and he is not even king yet. I fear what he will do when he does take the throne.”
“I will advise you strongly not to continue this line of discourse,” Edward said.
“Why? Are you afraid, perhaps, that I might say something treasonous? I could say, for example, that such utterly lavish spending is rather similar to what France experienced right before the Revolution. Perhaps we too shall see a guillotine in our squares before too long.”
“Dear Lord, forbid,” Lady Cloverdale said. “All this talk of revolution has made me quite thirsty. Come, Lady Fairchild, let us find the champagne.”
Georgiana allowed Lady Cloverdale to take her from her husband’s side, for she had pushed Edward into a simmering anger. She could feel his eyes on her as she disappeared into the crush around them. Soon they reached their end and Lady Cloverdale handed her a glass, which she sipped as she watched the dancers on the floor. An orchestra played a reel and she felt her heartbeat stop when she saw before her the blue naval uniform of a captain. The officer turned his head slightly and she saw that it was not Nicholas. She breathed again and hated her reaction to the mere possibility of his presence.
“What has he done that you so wish to provoke him to anger?” Lady Cloverdale asked. She was looking handsome in a dress of peach muslin. Her headdress was made of emeralds and feathers and she carried a matching fan. Georgiana wondered if the jewels were real, then admonished herself for the thought.
“It is not he,” she lied.
“Then which young man here tonight has brought you to such a foul mood? I certainly want to meet the man who can throw you into such a temper.”
She smiled and glanced across the room to meet the eyes of a young man in uniform.
Lady Cloverdale followed her gaze and said. “He is handsome, indeed. Who is he?”
“I don’t know,” she said, frowning. The young man in a white and red military uniform looked familiar.
“He seems to either know you, or he wants to know you, for he seems quite intent on you. Shall we endeavor to discover his identity?”
“No,” Georgiana said quickly, wishing to pass the evening as uneventfully as possible. The young man in question remained in the crowd, transfixed, his eyes firmly planted on her. He did not move toward them as she had expected.
A young woman in pink and lavender silk stood suddenly before them, blocking their view. “It is you, Lady Fairchild. I said as much to the others but they would have me believe you could not possibly be well enough to attend an evening out, but here you are on your own two feet. I tried so to come and see you before your departure for London but Mama would not allow it.”
“Hello, Lydia,” Georgiana smiled. “You remember Lady Cloverdale.”
“Indeed, yes,” she said. “It is your presence next to Lady Fairchild that convinced me it was she. You must come and sit with us for we are just over there.”
Lydia pointed with her fan in the direction she meant and Georgiana and Lady Cloverdale were forced to follow her to the group gathered around one of the blue velvet sofas. Georgiana glanced briefly in the direction of the young man in uniform, but he had disappeared
“He has departed,” Lady Cloverdale said, noticing her gaze. “But I’ll wager we have not seen the last of him tonight.”
“Why, Lady Fairchild, we had heard of the miracle of your recovery but scarce believed it, but behold you have walked across the room to us.”
It was Lady Kingston who had spoken. She was dressed in a dark blue velvet dress that did not suit and made her look like part of the furniture. Next to her sat Mrs. Jones and Lord Kingston.
“Dorothea and Caroline are both dancing,” Lady Kingston said as if that fact alone were a triumph. “You must stay until they return for they will want to see you for themselves.”
Georgiana turned to the dancers to see if she could find Caroline, desperate to see if Nicholas was there. But the dance floor was so enormous and so crowded as to make identifying anyone impossible.
“Yes, do stay,” Lydia said excitedly. “I believe Dorothea would not soon forgive us did we let you go for she has spoken of little else but seeing your brother here tonight.”
“Lydia,” her mother admonished and Lady Kingston gave her a withering look.
“I am not here with my brother,” Georgiana said. “I arrived with Edward.”
“Of course,” Lady Kingston said. “But surely your brother will attend this crush.”
“He did plan to attend, yes.”
Her answer seemed to reassure Lady Kingston who turned her attention to the dancers as the reel came to an end, and ladies were escorted back to their guardians. Caroline did indeed return on Nicholas’s arm, and Georgiana noted his surprise at seeing her present.
“Lady Fairchild, it is true then you are recovered,” Caroline said a smile on her face.
“I am well again, yes,” she said simply.
“Is it not wonderful, Nicholas?” she asked, turning to her fiancé, and noticed the look on his face, which she misread. “I had not
time to tell you of the news.” She turned to Georgiana. “He but only disembarked his ship this morning and I have only now seen him. I had not time to prepare him, and does he not look surprised?”
She smiled but could find no words.
“You must dance with her, Nicholas,” Caroline said generously.
“Oh, I could not,” she said quickly. “I have not danced in years, and have quite forgotten how.”
“Nicholas is a wonderful dancer and he will be the perfect gentleman to show you again.”
She glanced at Nicholas, not sure how to refuse further, but then he held out his hand to her and she was forced to step with him toward those already lining up for the next dance. She kept her eyes on the first gold button of his naval jacket, finding herself unable to look him in the eye.
Then the music began and they stepped toward each other, linking hands. She concentrated on her steps for she was not familiar with the dance and wondered was it two steps and a rise, then back? She had not lied entirely when she said she was out of practice. She found herself close to him and glanced up to see his eyes on her and looked away again. She could not concentrate, if she looked at him.
“I must see you,” he said urgently. “Will you meet me?”
She did not have time to answer him, for the next step took her away from Nicholas and brought her face to face with her neighbor, and she paled as she looked into the familiar face of the young man who had earlier watched her. Again, she was forced by the next step back to her own partner and she stumbled on her way, the shock of her situation muddling her brain to the point she could not think of the steps.
Nicholas guided her back into position with a firm hand, and she crossed over and they stepped back to back, and then returned to the original position. She glanced nervously at her neighbor, trying desperately not to believe what her eyes were telling her was true. It had to be a trick.
“Georgiana,” Nicholas whispered, and she snapped back to him and stepped quickly forward to meet him, already two beats behind.
“What is the matter with you?”
She stepped left, her gaze meeting that of the young man’s and she could not help staring at him as she continued. She almost missed the cross over with their other neighbors and cursed the complicated steps as she again made a mistake. With her right hand, she reached for her neighbor, and with six steps moved down the line, casting down on the opposite side and lead up. She found herself once again with that gentleman who had so disorientated her. Then again, they parted.
Raven's Shadow (Book 2, the Ravenstone Chronicles) Page 19