Miss in a Man's World

by Anne Ashley

  ‘Quite right, Trent, it cannot,’ his lordship concurred in a dangerously quiet tone. ‘And you would be wise to forget that you ever thought it could have been.’

  ‘Forgotten already, dear boy,’ he returned airily, before sauntering into the room.

  ‘Don’t look so crestfallen,’ his lordship chided gently. ‘People might suppose we’ve had a lovers’ tiff.’

  ‘But he recognised me, Ben. What dreadful ill luck! I would never have supposed for a moment that he was so observant.’

  ‘Don’t let that foppish air fool you, my darling. Sir Willoughby Trent is quite remarkably astute. Very little escapes him.’

  ‘Really?’ Georgiana began to view the baronet in a new light. ‘So he’s quite capable of organising these jewel thefts.’

  ‘Oh, more than capable,’ he concurred. ‘But I rather fancy he isn’t the one. I haven’t ruled him out quite yet, but he’s definitely bottom of the list. And don’t allow the fact that he recognised you trouble you unduly. He won’t say anything.’

  ‘But how can you be so sure?’

  ‘Because he has a rather perverse sense of humour. If he revealed your little secret, he would risk being disbelieved, besides denying himself the pleasure of tormenting you in the future. Furthermore, I know a thing or two about him that he definitely wouldn’t wish spread abroad. So put it from your mind and go and mingle with our guests. I do believe the Dowager and her granddaughter would appreciate a few words with you, as would several others. I’ll remain here to greet any late arrivals.’

  She was only too willing to oblige, and until the time came for her to partner Ben and lead the first set of country dances, she believed she maintained the role of a newly engaged young woman to perfection.

  At least Lady Sophia evidently detected nothing amiss when she claimed Georgiana’s attention the instant the dance came to an end. Her over-enthusiastic partner had inadvertently torn her flounce and Sophia wished to repair the damage at once.

  ‘You see, I’m supposed to be dancing with Mr Beresford next, Georgie, and I don’t want him to see me less than perfectly groomed,’ she revealed shyly. ‘I cannot thank you enough for inviting him. I do so much prefer him to any other gentleman of my acquaintance!’

  ‘I know you do, Sophie. And so does your grandmother.’ She cast the girl a sympathetic smile. ‘I know she approves of Beresford. After all, why should she not? He has no title, but he comes from a good family and he isn’t exactly impoverished. But have a care, my dear, because I do not believe the Dowager will give her blessing to a serious attachment between you, at least not this year. Next might be different. She wants you to enjoy the society of many young gentlemen before you finally think seriously about marriage.’

  Lady Sophia sensibly seemed to accept this. ‘And when I do finally become betrothed, I should like a party just like this one, not some grand ball where you hardly know anyone. Tonight has been lovely. Everyone I’ve spoken to thinks so.’

  This was gratifying to hear, for Lady Eleanor, the servants, Ben and she herself had worked so hard to make it a success. And so it was proving to be, despite the odd disappointment and the occasional disquieting moment.

  After seeing Lady Sophia into the ladies’ withdrawing room, where a young maid was on hand to assist in just such an emergency as a torn flounce, Georgiana, almost without thinking, continued along the passage to a small bedchamber overlooking the Square. It had been her very own room during those few short weeks she had stayed in the house the previous spring.

  Pushing wide the door, she was gratified to discover nothing had changed. Seating herself on the windowsill, as she had done many times in the past, she stared out across the Square in time to see a smart carriage depositing its passengers at the house opposite. She couldn’t help wondering whether the party taking place there was as enjoyable as her own was, amazingly enough, turning out to be. It was true she had suffered a disappointment when organising the event, when she had discovered that Charles Gingham wouldn’t be bringing his young wife along, but she had quite understood. Apparently, poor Louise was increasing again and not having such an easy time of it on this occasion.

  The encounter with Sir Willoughby Trent had unnerved her for a time, as indeed had her first-ever encounter with the supposed love of his lordship’s life. All the same, it was rather strange that when she had met Lady Wenbury face to face she had not experienced even so much as a twinge of jealousy.

  Although perhaps not in her first flush of youth, Lady Wenbury was undeniably strikingly lovely. From her perfectly arranged fair locks to her satin-shod feet, she bore all the perfection of a London modiste’s fashion plate. Accompanying her had been her spouse, a portly gentleman of average height who, in stark contrast, carried his clothes very ill. Yet, it wasn’t so much the baron’s appearance that surprised Georgiana as the Viscount’s attitude towards him.

  Not even by so much as a slight frostiness of tone had his lordship betrayed that he had felt the least animosity towards the middle-aged man who had married the woman he himself had very much desired to wed. In fact, he could not have been more welcoming or genial in his greeting. His attitude towards the baroness had been even more surprising. Apart from a remark clearly meant in jest, which had resulted in her tapping his arm flirtatiously with her fan, while favouring him with a provocative smile, he had shown no interest in her whatsoever.

  Quite the contrary, in fact! Not once had he at tempted to seek her out for a private conversation, nor had he seemed to search her out with his eyes. It was almost as if Lady Wenbury meant absolutely nothing to him now. At least he hadn’t appeared to consider her in any way more important than any of his other guests. So why had he made a point of inviting the couple?

  ‘What on earth are you doing skulking away in here?’ that deeply attractive and, oh, so familiar voice demanded to know, making her start guiltily. ‘Our guests will soon begin to wonder where you are, as I myself would have done had I not happened to glance out of the drawing room and catch you wandering along the passageway.’

  Good heavens! He might not have been watching Lady Wenbury, but he was certainly keeping his eye on her! As she didn’t know whether to feel flattered, or slightly alarmed, she decided it might be wise to be truthful, given that he had already revealed he knew very well when she was attempting to conceal something from him.

  ‘It just so happens I wandered in here without thinking. This used to be my room when I resided here,’ she reminded him.

  ‘Well, it won’t be again,’ he returned abruptly, which resulted in her wistful little smile vanishing in an instant. As he moved towards her he watched it replaced by a look that appeared to encompass both wariness and sadness. ‘What’s troubling that pretty little head of yours?’ he queried with the same gentleness as he traced the fine bones of her face with his fingertips. ‘Have I ever told you how very…lovely you are?’

  As he spoke his head lowered, his intention clear. Georgiana knew it was madness; somehow, though, she didn’t seem able to move, and when his arms had stolen about her and his mouth had at last fastened on to hers, she couldn’t have moved even had she wanted to. And the most worrying fact of all was that she experienced not the slightest desire to do so!

  Like some master puppeteer, he had her completely under his control. Exerting only the slightest of pressures he succeeded in forcing her lips apart and, as though operating some invisible strings, persuaded her to raise her arms and place her hands on his shoulders. In those delicious moments of experiencing this their first kiss, she felt she could deny him nothing and was more than happy for him to maintain complete control. It was only when he at last raised his head and the tender, invisible manipulation was finally broken, that a degree of common sense at last prevailed.

  Even he spoke with less than his customary aplomb as he said, ‘I think it might be wise to return to our guests now before the temptation to enter quite a different bedchamber becomes too strong. Besides which, someone has arriv
ed who particularly wishes to make your acquaintance, and as he has attained considerable influence in—er—certain quarters, it wouldn’t do to offend him.’

  Still somewhat bewildered by what had just taken place, and most definitely not in full possession of her faculties, Georgiana was once again content to be guided by him. Like some docile child, she accompanied the Viscount back into the drawing room, where he took her straight over to the celebrity whose attire was every bit as impressive as his own. He then left her with the young gentleman of renown, with the strong warning that he would be watching closely from the other side of the room.

  Chuckling at his distinguished guest’s witty response, the Viscount collected a glass of champagne before stationing himself in the doorway between the two reception rooms so that he might watch the dancing for a while. He was swiftly thwarted in this desire by a tap on his shoulder and he turned to discover his good friend Charles Gingham at his heels.

  ‘Where’s that divine fiancée of yours? Entertaining some young sprig on the dance floor?’

  ‘No, she’s over there,’ his lordship responded, gesturing to a certain spot in the drawing room, ‘entertaining that particular sprig in conversation. And doing an excellent job of it, if the Beau’s expression of rapt attention is anything to go by.’

  ‘Good gad! How on earth did you manage to get Brummell here?’ Charles looked about in some alarm. ‘He hasn’t brought Prinny with him, has he?’

  ‘Good God, no! Never having been a devotee of the Regent’s, I avoid the Carlton House set as a rule, with one exception. Although we differ in our political affiliations, George Brummell and I do have certain things in common, young though he is.’

  ‘Well, he clearly appreciates your choice of future bride,’ Charles responded, ‘and I don’t suppose for a moment it is simply because he has developed a penchant for that particular name.’

  The Viscount was not slow to follow his friend’s train of thought. ‘Ah, yes, his very good friend the divine Duchess of Devonshire! Undoubtedly a lady of great charm, but not one of outstanding beauty. At least I never considered her so, and that was long before her tragic disfigurement.’

  ‘But your own Georgiana is clearly very much to your taste,’ Charles parried. ‘Though at one time I would never have supposed it could be so.’ He gave a sudden bark of laughter as a distant memory returned. ‘If I recall correctly, your future bride was to be divinely fair and dutifully biddable—traits one could hardly attribute to Miss Grey, if you don’t mind my saying.’

  There was a suspicion of a twitch at the corner of his lordship’s mouth. ‘As you are clearly fast falling into a rollicking mood, I shall refrain from trying to maintain a sensible conversation with you. But perhaps if you have recovered sufficiently for a rational discussion you might care to join me in the library before we retire. There are one or two matters I should like to share with you.’

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘Damnably enjoyable evening, Finch!’ Charles declared, when they had finally repaired to the library to enjoy a glass of brandy before retiring. ‘All the guests thought so. Georgie, bless her, has certainly silenced any critics who might have wrongly supposed she lacked the necessary social skills for her future position in life. The dinner menu couldn’t have been bettered in my opinion, and the reception rooms, with those beautifully arranged flowers, looked an absolute picture! She did you proud, old fellow.’

  There was a hint of smug satisfaction in the Viscount’s expression. ‘Yes, she has worked hard this past week or so. I never doubted her ability to organise the event. And, of course, it was one way to keep her fully occupied and therefore less inclined to indulge in ill-judged behaviour.’

  ‘Eh?’ Charles was clearly startled to be told this. ‘Is she likely to do so, then? Not been gadding about in boy’s raiment again recently, surely?’

  ‘Afraid so, old fellow.’ There was a distinct menacing gleam in his lordship’s dark eyes now. ‘But she won’t again, if she knows what’s good for her. That said, I’m forced to own there was perhaps some justification for her having done so. And that is why I wished to speak to you now.’

  It was clear he held his friend’s full attention, so the Viscount wasted no time in revealing almost everything he knew concerning the seventh Earl of Grenville’s death. ‘So we are left with three possible suspects, and I am at present attempting to eliminate two of them.’

  Charles shook his head. ‘Do you know, I was only talking to Louise and Mother about this recently, Finch, wondering if these robberies were in some way connected. But how the deuce are they disposing of the jewellery? No one in London would be stupid enough to purchase any of it, surely?’

  ‘No. It’s going across the Channel. And that is where I would appreciate your assistance, my friend.’ His lordship’s gaze was unwavering. ‘I’m inclined to believe, you see, that your cousin Henri might well be involved in this business.’

  Not even by the slight raising of one fair brow did Charles betray surprise at learning that. ‘I assume you have proof.’

  ‘Only what Georgie herself managed to discover. That said, I believe he’s over in France as we speak, attempting to dispose of Lady Chalmondley’s emeralds. There’s plenty of smuggling going on, and many who’ll risk taking a passenger across to France for a price. I’m having a particular Channel port watched for his return. His movements will then be closely monitored for the foreseeable future. And it is with regard to Henri that I believe you might be of some help.’

  ‘Of course, I’ll do what I can. But I haven’t had any contact with him in…oh, must be five or six years,’ Charles reminded his lordship. ‘I believe he still resides in the capital, but I couldn’t tell you where, exactly.’

  ‘It shouldn’t be too difficult to discover where he’s lodging. I’ll write to you in a week or so. Then you can make casual contact, and see what you can discover from him without arousing his suspicions. Seemingly, a relative of his is involved in disposing of the gems.’

  ‘He has a number of French cousins,’ Charles pointed out. ‘I’ve never been acquainted with any of them.’

  ‘That’s of no importance. Just make contact with Henri again on his return and see what you can discover. Any small detail he lets fall could turn out to be important and might ultimately lead to the brains behind it all.’

  Charles shook his head, evidently having some difficulty believing everything he was hearing. ‘And you say Georgie herself discovered Henri’s involvement. How the deuce did she accomplish that?’

  ‘Would you believe by visiting a—er—lowly tavern in the east of the city, where it was arranged that the booty would be handed over to your cousin?’

  ‘Good gad!’

  ‘Quite!’ his lordship agreed, smiling faintly. ‘It just so happens it was on that particular night I persuaded her to become engaged.’

  ‘Eh…?’ Again Charles didn’t attempt to hide his astonishment. ‘Do you mean she didn’t wish to become betrothed?’

  His lordship considered for a moment. ‘I’m not altogether sure, old friend. What I can tell you is that she’d never considered a marriage between us.’ His smile faded and he was suddenly serious. ‘You see, Charles, Georgie believes the engagement to be bogus and that my only interest is to prove beyond doubt I had nothing whatsoever to do with her godfather’s demise. You must remember I was one of the—er—so-called “favoured five”.’

  Charles was clearly all at sea now, and it showed. ‘But surely she doesn’t suspect you?’

  ‘No, she doesn’t,’ his lordship responded with absolute conviction.

  ‘Then why on earth don’t you tell her the truth?’

  ‘What…? That I’ve been in love with her almost from the first?’ The Viscount’s smile had a decidedly bitter curl. ‘I’ll tell you why, Charles… It’s because I’m a damnable coward, that’s why! Past experience has left me distinctly wary about revealing my feelings to a member of the fair sex.’

  ‘You’re th
inking of Charlotte, naturally,’ Charles returned softly. ‘I did wonder why you had invited Lady Wenbury tonight. Surely you weren’t comparing the two?’

  ‘Assuredly not! To me Georgie is far above in every respect the woman I now consider merely a youthful indiscretion. But I’m not so foolish as to suppose she hasn’t at some point learned of my association with the baroness, and all the foolish conjecture that resulted after her rushed marriage to Wenbury. I believe Georgie now realises I’m not suffering any regrets about what happened. Quite the opposite, in fact! I consider I had an extremely lucky escape. I can never thank you enough for dragging me over to France all those years ago.’

  His lordship was silent for a moment, staring thoughtfully down at the amber liquid in his glass. ‘I’ve experience enough and am arrogant enough to believe Georgie cares for me very deeply. None the less, she is not certain of my feelings towards her or of my genuine motives for wishing the engagement to take place. Why, she must be asking herself, does a gentleman present a lady with a fortune in gems, only to insist they remain in his charge, if he intends her to keep them? And why too does he never bestow other tokens of his affection, except rarely, when natural inclination overcomes resolve?’

  Again there was a hint of smug satisfaction in his smile. ‘Yes, I have succeeded in maintaining poor Georgie in a state of delicious confusion during these past couple of weeks, and I intend to do all in my power to keep her there, at least for the time being. While her mind is focused on attempting to comprehend my diverse behaviour, she will be less likely to concern herself with other matters.’

  Undoubtedly the Viscount would have derived much satisfaction from the knowledge that his betrothed had spent much of that night pondering over his perplexing behaviour: one moment the gentle, persuasive lover, the next the dour elder brother determined to keep a younger sister under strict control.