Lauren turned up the flame in the lamp. “I saw Huntingdon dance with you, and then you disappeared. You should have heard the murmuring and whispers that followed his departure.”
“I did hear them. Why do you think I left?”
“Gina, don’t you understand what he did? By dancing with you, he practically dared every other man to do the same. It didn’t go unnoticed that you were the only lady with whom he danced. His attentiveness was absolutely wonderful! You’ll wear out your slippers dancing at the next ball.”
“I’m not going to any other ball.”
“Of course you are, silly goose. Everyone’s curiosity regarding you was finally piqued—”
“Lauren, I’m getting married.”
Lauren’s mouth dropped open, and her eyelashes began to flutter. “Pardon?”
“Huntingdon asked me to marry him. I said yes.” Although he hadn’t exactly asked, and she hadn’t exactly said yes.
“But I only introduced you to him tonight. How could you possibly fall in love with him that quickly?”
“I didn’t. I barely know him!” Georgina threw aside the covers, scrambled out of bed, and began to pace across the thick carpet. She knew many marriages were based on needs rather than love. She could accept hers would be one of those. But the litany in her mind did little to reassure her.
“I don’t understand,” Lauren said as she stretched across the bed and raised herself up on her elbows.
“Papa arranged it. Huntingdon needs money, and Papa wants to see me married.” She dropped onto the mattress. Pleasing her father was her single greatest joy. But this latest wish of his—what would it cost her to grant it? “I’ve been lying here thinking about it. How can I marry a man I don’t respect?”
“How can you not respect Huntingdon? For goodness sake, Gina, he’s an earl.”
“He didn’t earn the title or his position, Lauren. An accident of birth gave him advantage, and apparently he squandered it. Respect comes with hard work, not from careless disregard of the toil of those who came before you.”
“If you feel that way, then why are you marrying him?”
“Because Papa wants it so badly.” She studied her hands. “And I want children.”
She cast a furtive glance at her friend. “And there’s a little more to it. I never told you about New York.”
“What about it?”
She studied her hands. How could she explain the humiliation?
“Three years ago, Papa decided that it was time to stop our wanderings. He’d lost his fortune a couple of times, gambling, and this time, when he regained it, he wanted to make Mama happy. To make amends for some of the more difficult times. He thought New York was the place.
“But it was awful, Lauren. The city is owned by the old money. They have as many rules there as you have here, and I despise them all. Until one of the old families acknowledges you, you’re no better than something to be wiped off a shoe.”
“It’s not that bad here.”
“You don’t notice, because your stepfather is influential. For all the hard-earned money Papa had, he had no influence among the socially elite. And you’re nobody until a Knickerbocker recognizes you as such.”
Georgina swallowed hard, buffeting the painful memory.
“One evening Mama, Papa, and I were standing in the foyer at the opera house. One of the matrons of New York caught Mama’s attention. You should have seen Mama’s face, Lauren. She thought she was finally being accepted. The woman walked toward us, and then she breezed right by without saying a word.”
“A direct cut,” Lauren murmured. “In public. She must have been mortified.”
“She was such a gentle woman, Lauren.”
“I remember her well. She always made everyone feel welcome.”
“Well, shortly after that night, she got sick. Then the pneumonia set in. When she died last winter, Papa started making plans to visit here. I think he was hoping all along to find me a husband.”
“But why an Englishman?”
“Not just an Englishman. An aristocrat. I think at the very core of his heart, he genuinely wants to see me happy, wants to see me well married and with the children that I so desperately desire. But a part of him can’t forget the devastation on Mama’s face when the woman walked by her and looked away. What better way to beat the old guard at their own game than through marriage, to join a club more exclusive than theirs, even if it’s an ocean away? They’re bound to hear of it.
“And a part of me, Lauren, thinks why not? I’ve yet to find a man whose interest I can hold. Neither of us would have expectations of romance or love. I can’t help but wonder if a marriage of convenience would be better than no marriage at all.”
Lauren shrugged. “I suppose you could do worse than Huntingdon. After all, he is deliciously handsome. He looks as though he’d be delightfully wicked in bed.”
Georgina tugged on one of Lauren’s blond curls. “What do you know about being wicked in bed?”
Lauren’s cheeks blushed becomingly. “I’ve heard things.”
“Such as?” Georgina demanded.
Wearing a mischievous grin, Lauren edged closer to Georgina and whispered, “I’ve heard a man kisses you all over.”
“All over?”
Lauren nodded enthusiastically, her eyes twinkling. “From the top of your head to the tips of your toes—and everywhere in between.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Using her finger, Lauren made a cross over her heart in much the same manner as they had when they were children. “I swear it’s what I’ve heard.”
Georgina felt trepidation slice through her. The warmth from his mouth had seeped through her glove as he’d kissed her fingers. She couldn’t imagine his lips against her flesh or that a man might not expect something in return. “How is a woman expected to kiss a man?”
Lauren licked her lips. “In much the same manner, I imagine.”
“Since ours is to be a marriage of necessity and not passion, I don’t imagine I’ll be expected to kiss him anywhere.”
Laughing, Lauren plopped onto her back. “And you said I’d become a prude.”
“You’re teasing me.”
“No, honestly, it’s what I’ve heard.”
“Who told you?”
“Tom.”
Georgina heard the wistful longing in Lauren’s voice. “Did he kiss you everywhere?”
“Of course not. He said I was too young, but he promised he would on my seventeenth birthday. Then we moved here when I was fourteen, so he never had a chance.” Lauren rolled over, raised herself up on her elbows, and held Georgina’s gaze. “Promise you’ll tell me if Huntingdon kisses you everywhere.”
“He won’t.”
“But if he does…”
“He won’t!” Because she wouldn’t dare let him.
Glancing over her shoulder, Georgina studied her reflection in the mirror. She liked the way the back of the blue wool dress was gathered into puffs that went both lengthwise and across. The simple lines leading to the modest train made her look elegant.
And not a single bow in sight. She hoped as much as she dreaded that Lord Huntingdon would honor his promise and call on her today.
She’d visited a seamstress first thing that morning and ordered a gown of white. It was supposed to be completed in three days, and Georgina had no idea if that was soon enough. He’d said they’d be married by the end of the week.
Had he meant they’d be married by Friday, in which case the wedding would take place on Thursday? Or had he meant Saturday with the wedding to take place on Friday? What day did he consider the end of the week? Did he mean they would be married on that day or the day before?
And what was a special license? Would certain conditions apply to their marriage?
She thought about asking Lauren, but she was incredibly embarrassed that she’d agreed to this marriage without addressing all the particulars. Of course, she hadn’t truly believed he�
�d honor the bargain. No lies, no love, no false flattery.
She turned away from the mirror. She shouldn’t have been so quick to reveal her conditions. What would it hurt to be told just once by someone other than her father that she was beautiful—even if it wasn’t true?
The rap on the door started her heart to thundering.
Elizabeth Montgomery peered into the room. Her once blond hair was now a gentle white that reminded Georgina of soft dandelions. Her blue eyes sparkled. Georgina had no doubt Elizabeth had flourished by marrying Christopher Montgomery and moving to England. She just wasn’t quite sure coming here had been the best thing for Lauren, although she had to admit Christopher Montgomery seemed to be a good father.
Elizabeth smiled warmly. “You have a gentleman caller. Lord Huntingdon.”
Georgina’s knees grew weak. He’d come! Until this moment, she hadn’t realized she’d convinced herself he wouldn’t show. Nor had she realized how desperately glad she would be that he had arrived.
“I’ll be right down.”
“You might want to don a hat and grab your parasol. He mentioned he had an interest in taking you for a boat ride on the Thames.”
“By God, you were supposed to court her!”
Standing in the foyer, Devon had barely given Elizabeth his message before Pierce pounced on him like a rabid dog. The splotchy red covering the man’s face made Devon fear that he’d collapse in an apoplectic fit at any moment.
“Perhaps we should discuss this matter in a more private setting,” Devon suggested.
“The library. Now!” Pierce thundered.
“I assume Ravenleigh isn’t in here,” he murmured as he followed the man to his cousin’s lair.
As soon as he entered, Pierce turned on him.
“We had a gentleman’s agreement—”
“Which I have honored.”
“How do you figure that? I wanted her courted and wooed. I wanted her to feel loved. A woman should only be asked once to give her hand in marriage, and by God, that moment should be one she’ll carry with her until her hair turns gray.”
Devon had a feeling Georgina would always remember the moment. He knew he certainly would. “Our arrangement was based on my conforming to three conditions. I will have more success at convincing her that I find her beautiful and am in love with her if she is my wife rather than my interest.
“And I’m rather certain you’ll agree giving her a child is facilitated by a hastily arranged marriage. As to my remaining faithful to her, that as well cannot be tested until a wedding has taken place.”
“A shotgun wedding was not a condition—”
“Oh, Papa.”
Devon spun around at the sound of Georgina’s voice. How much had she heard? She knew money was a factor in their hasty marriage. She knew he was willing to give her a child. But for reasons he could not fathom, he had not wanted her to know that her father thought it necessary to demand his faithfulness or that he had been told to convince her that she was beautiful.
Both those conditions suddenly seemed cold and harsh. While financial consideration was the basis for their marriage, he’d hoped to spare her the truth of the details. A woman should not only expect fidelity from her husband, but she should feel as though he did find her attractive.
She strolled past him and placed her hand on her father’s shoulder. “Oh, Papa, you’re giving Lord Huntingdon a tongue-lashing for nothing. What woman wouldn’t be pleased that her suitor wished to marry her as soon as possible?”
What woman indeed? She’d neither referred to herself nor confirmed that she was pleased. She’d spoken the truth, but not necessarily a truth that applied to her. He wondered if she merely wished to put her father’s doubts at ease while keeping her own counsel regarding her true feelings on the matter.
If Pierce’s diminishing agitation was any indication, she had succeeded. Pierce settled his gaze on his daughter. The depth of love in his eyes caused Devon to regret he didn’t have time to court her properly, to make her feel as though she was indeed fortunate he had selected her.
Pierce patted her hand. “Thought I was prepared for giving you over to another man. Reckon I’m still adjusting to the thought.”
Georgina kissed his leathery cheek. “I’ll always be your little girl. Now, if you’ll excuse us, it’s my understanding that Lord Huntingdon is taking me boating.”
Georgina tried to enjoy the scenery, the sight of the other boats floating along the river, but her attention kept returning to Huntingdon and the powerful bunching of his muscles as he rowed. He’d removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves past his elbows. She was surprised by the hard, knotted look of his forearms, the veins that stood out in sharp relief beneath his bronzed skin.
Her gaze continually darted between his broad shoulders, his wide chest, his flat stomach, his hips, and then it would dip lower, and she would feel her face scald with the heat of speculation. What would it be like to kiss every inch of that remarkable torso…and then some?
“Is everything all right, Georgina?” he asked in that deep rumble that caused little chill bumps to erupt over her flesh.
Or perhaps it was his informality that elicited the delicious shivers.
“Shouldn’t you address me as Miss Pierce?” she asked, preferring the distance such formality evoked.
“Once engaged, it is acceptable for a couple to address each other using first names,” he explained. “Therefore you may call me Devon.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know why it flustered her to think of calling him by his first name. She’d addressed boys in that manner for as long as she could remember.
Only he wasn’t a boy, and each moment brought her closer to an intimacy with him for which she wasn’t prepared.
Elizabeth had wanted to come with them and act as chaperone, but Georgina had refused the offer. It seemed absolutely silly that a woman couldn’t trust the man she planned to marry. Besides, with chaperones around, how in the world did these people get to know each other? A person couldn’t talk about personal things with someone near enough to hang onto every word.
“You didn’t answer my question, Georgina.”
His question, asked long ago, had slipped her mind completely. “Yes, everything is fine.”
“You look warm.”
Only on the inside. She could certainly use a fan right now, a Texas fan that was good at cooling, not communicating.
“I’m fine,” she rushed to assure him.
She wondered how she would manage to survive her wedding night with any amount of decorum when he had the uncanny ability to set her heart to thumping against her ribs with nothing more than his presence. She couldn’t claim he gave her longing looks, the kind she read about in the romance novels she enjoyed.
Yet neither was he ignoring her. Rather she had a feeling he was taking measure of her, just as she was of him. These moments should have been shared before they’d ever broached the subject of marriage. If he looked too closely, he might change his mind. If she looked too intently, so might she.
Lauren was right. Huntingdon was devilishly handsome. He had a generous mouth, his lower lip the only portion of his face that appeared to be soft. The lines that fanned out from the corners of his mouth and eyes had not been carved by joy. Would he ever know happiness with her? Or would they simply exist side by side, going their separate ways until the need to fulfill a promise brought him to her bed?
She wondered if he would bed her on their wedding night as dispassionately as he’d proposed. Would he simply lift the hem of her nightgown or would he dare trail that luscious mouth of his over her body? How could she allow a man she barely knew to take such liberties?
Should she ask for a reprieve, a period of adjustment, during which time they could come to know each other well enough for the awkwardness to fall away?
What if that moment never came?
“If I may be beastly bold, Georgina seems a rather harsh name for a woman,” he said, bringing
her musing to an abrupt halt. “Although George or Georgie doesn’t seem much of an improvement.”
“Gina,” she said softly. Only her dearest friends referred to her as such. She’d never expected him to. She’d somehow imagined in this stuffy society they would forever refer to each other in the strictest formal terms.
He leaned forward slightly, not upsetting the rhythm of his strokes in the least. “Pardon?”
“Those close to me call me Gina.”
“Indeed.”
Was he questioning her statement? “I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t so.”
“Of course not. I was simply speculating as to whether or not you were granting me permission to address you…as intimately.”
His eyes darkened, and his scrutiny made her wonder if she should have accepted Elizabeth’s offer to serve as chaperone. Wouldn’t that be something? To actually have to fend off a man’s advances when all her life she’d expected she might have to lasso and hog-tie a man in order to hold him close?
“I assume once we’re married, we’ll be intimate—” she began.
“Indeed we shall be,” he interrupted.
Her stomach quivered, and she felt her face breaking out in those unsightly blotches that announced to the whole world she was uncomfortable with her current situation. “Therefore calling me Gina is acceptable.”
“I appreciate the generous consideration.”
She wondered if when they were old and feeble he’d still speak to her as though they were passing strangers. She found it odd that he’d seemed to test the waters by hinting he wished permission to call her Gina and then retreated by distancing himself with so much politeness she was tempted to rock the boat until he toppled into the water.
Surely a time would come when she would be able to actually carry on a real conversation with him. Where words weren’t measured, meanings analyzed, and interpretations avoided.
“I have to admit I’m amazed to see you row with such skill. With the aristocracy’s penchant for servants, I’d assumed you’d have a rowing boy,” she said.
To Marry an Heiress Page 6