by Mary Balogh
"Hush," she said, "and pray do behave in a more seemly fashion. We are approaching my father's house and must already be visible from the windows."
"I am all gentlemanly decorum, ma'am," he said.
"Will you be leaving me at the door?" she asked.
"Oh, my no means," he assured her. "After walking all this great distance with you, my dear Lady Chartleigh, I shall at least come inside and pay my compliments to Miss Burton. She was gracious enough to dance with me the other evening."
Vera did not seem at all pleased with the courtesy he paid her. She was sitting in the green salon with her mother, having just bidden farewell to some other visitors. She rose and curtsied low to Lord Beauchamp, but her lips tightened and she did not raise her eyes. She sat down and picked up some embroidery.
"I walked over to see if you cared for a stroll in the park, Vera," Georgiana said. "I have not been out yesterday or today up until now and was beginning to feel as if my feet were about to send down roots. Lord Beauchamp arrived as I was about to leave and kindly offered to escort me here."
"How kind of you, sir," the viscountess said graciously, having just been presented to Roger. "Will you take tea?"
"Perhaps one cup, ma'am," he said, "before I retrace my steps and retrieve my horse from Middleton House. What delicate stitches you do, Miss Burton. It never ceases to amaze me how you ladies find the patience to produce such beauty and to cultivate personal charms and loveliness at the same time." He crossed the room to seat himself beside Vera.
"Mama," Georgiana said, taking a chair adjacent to her mother's after carrying the cup into which the viscountess had poured tea across to Roger, "have you received an invitation to Mrs. Hoby's soiree next week? Ours came this morning, but I do not know if we are to accept it. I have not seen Ralph yet today."
"Perhaps it is because most of us do not waste our time in such idle pursuits as visiting clubs and playing cards and going to the races, sir," Vera replied, not looking up from her work.
"Ah," Roger said. "I had not thought of that. If I gave up such wild pursuits, ma'am, would you undertake to teach me skill with a needle?"
Vera looked up in astonishment, her face relaxing unwillingly into a grin of pure amusement. "What an absurd idea," she said. "You make fun of me, sir."
"On the contrary," he said, his eyes fixed on her face. "I am trying my best to be agreeable since you appeared not to enjoy my conversation a few evenings ago.”
"I wish you would leave Georgiana alone," she said very quietly. Her mother and her sister were engaged in talking to each other.
"You think I should have stood on the steps of Middleton House a half-hour ago and waved my handkerchief in farewell while she set off on her lone walk here?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
She looked up in some annoyance. "Do you make a joke of everything, sir?" she asked. "I think you know very well what I mean."
"You must have a sorry opinion of your sister," he said.
"I am extremely fond of Georgie," she said indignantly. "But she is very young and impulsive and has had a tendency to get herself into innocent scrapes. I am afraid that she may be no match for a man like you."
"A man like me," he said. "And what is a man like mc. pray, Miss Burton?"
"It is quite clear that you are unprincipled where ladies are concerned," she said firmly. "But you might at least confine your gallantries to someone who knows how to handle your advances."
"Ah," he said. "The voice of experience, I perceive. Are you applying for the position, ma'am?"
Her eyes flew to his face in shock. Her face was flushed, her eyes wide. "You are insufferable, sir," she said. "I should slap your face if we were alone."
"I regret the extra bodies as much as you, ma'am," he said. "When you direct those eyes my way, my mind becomes hopelessly addled with speculations on how sweet your lips would taste. If we were alone, we could both fulfill our desires."
Vera's eyes dropped involuntarily to his mouth, and she drew an audibly uneven breath. She rose abruptly to her feet, folding her embroidery with hasty hands. "If you will excuse me," she said to the room at large, "I shall go and fetch my cloak and bonnet. That walk in the park will be very welcome, Georgie."
Lord Beauchamp rose to his feet and bowed graciously as she swept past him. "I shall say good day, ma'am," he said. "I must be leaving."
***
Ralph decided to spend that evening at home, though he did not find the prospect a comfortable one. He had offended his mother and felt unhappy about that. Yet he could not apologize to her. He had not spoken to her in haste and had not said anything deliberately bad-mannered or disrespectful. He felt that he had been right to tell her that he would encourage Gloria to continue with her wedding plans. And he certainly felt justified in telling her to leave Georgiana to him. He could not feel sorry for a word he had said, but he was sorry for the necessity of speaking thus. He was sorry at the moment to be the Earl of Chartleigh. He felt all the loneliness that a position of authority must bring with it on occasion.
He felt even worse about having to face Georgiana. He still could not believe that that terrible quarrel had really occurred the afternoon before. He had known he was not a good husband. And he had known that his behavior to her was indecisive, that he would have to do something to try to win her trust and even her affection. But he had not known how terribly hurt she was.
He remembered her as she had appeared to him on the first two occasions he had met her, especially on the second, when he had made his offer to her. She had been so quiet, so sweet. He had learned at Chartleigh that she was not timid, that she could be talkative and lively and exceedingly brave in the cause of others. But he had seen nothing at all in her to dislike or to censure.
What a change he had wrought in her in such a short time! She had lost her temper the previous afternoon. She had even used language that he had never thought to hear on the lips of a woman. And she had admitted to flirting with Roger. Because she was bored, she had said. Because he himself was not man enough for her. And she had threatened to take a lover.
Could that have been Georgiana? What had he done to her? It did not occur to him to blame her at all. She had changed in a very short time. There could be only one cause for that change: himself. She must be right. He was a failure.
And there seemed no way to put things right. She hated and despised him now. The time when he might have gone to her and tried to make a new beginning on their marriage was past. If the rest of their married life was not to be an utter disaster, he would have to approach the problem with considerable decisiveness, skill, and knowledge. And he had none of those things where Georgiana and women in general were concerned. He was aghast at his own youth and innocence. How did one win the trust and love of a woman who hated and feared one?
He had been unable to face Georgiana for the rest of the day and most of this. He had walked around the streets of London the afternoon before and ended up calling on Roger. It was unusual to find his cousin at home, but it was close to dinnertime when he arrived. Roger had persuaded him to stay and to accompany him to the opera in the evening.
The motive for the chosen entertainment had been immediately obvious to Ralph. His cousin had seen that lie was no more cheerful than he had been on an earlier occasion at White's. He took him to see a little dancer whom he had been considering bringing under his own protection but whom he was magnanimously willing to renounce in favor of his cousin.
Ralph had looked at her and felt a shiver of revulsion and something else. A feeling of inevitability, perhaps. She was small. She had a good figure and was light on her feet. She was not unlike Georgiana if one did not look at her face and her hair. But who could escape doing so? Her hair was a vivid red, in a mass of short curls around her head. The color was clearly not natural. And her face was heavily painted. Even at a distance from the stage, Ralph could see the sheen of bright red Lip rouge and the rosy glow of false color on her cheeks. She was pretty, he supposed. But
there was a coarseness about her that repelled him.
"Of course she wears paint," Roger said on Ralph's comment. "She is on the stage, my lad, and is in the business of attracting attention. The hair is dyed for the same purpose. Doubtless all would be suitably toned down in a boudoir. She is a pretty little armful, Ralph, my boy. Fresh from the country. I hear that Grimble has been trying to get her, but he is notoriously closefisted."
"I cannot imagine how women can live such an existence," Ralph said, gazing at the little dancer with some sadness. "She is surely very young, Roger."
"It is probably a better existence than the workhouse," Roger said. "If she is frugal, she can probably save enough in these years to ensure a comfortable life afterward."
"Poor girl," Ralph said.
Roger laughed. "She would not thank you for your pity," he said. "Doubtless she believes she has the world at her feet at the moment. Do you want her?"
"What?" Ralph said. He looked at his cousin's raised eyebrows and flushed. It was stupid to pretend not to understand. "I don't think I could, Rog. I am a married man."
"And not too happily so," Roger pointed out. "Why not do a bit of the living you have missed in your years at university, my lad? Then perhaps you will be able to settle to a happier marriage."
Ralph looked back to the dancer. "I would not know how to go about attracting her notice," he said.
"That is the least of your problems," Roger assured him with a wave of one hand. "I shall be your ambassador, my boy. I don't think there will be any difficulty once she hears whom I represent and how much you are prepared to pay. I take it you will give me a free hand in deciding on terms? And my house in Kensington is available to you. Evelyn moved out almost a month ago and I have been enjoying my freedom too much to replace her yet. Well, what do you say, Ralph? Shall I go down after the performance and have a word with her?"
"No!" Ralph said sharply. "I really do not want to do this, you know. I must consider."
Lord Beauchamp could not induce his young cousin to make any more definite commitment for that night.
And the following evening Ralph was still confused, unhappy, undecided. He sat through an uncomfortable dinner, responding as best he could to Gloria's attempts at conversation. She talked about the shopping expedition she had made that day with Aunt Elspeth. Apparently a large number of her bride clothes had been either purchased or ordered. He was glad he had talked with her before leaving the house the previous afternoon. She seemed to be acting on the assumption that her wedding would take place before Christmas.
He sat in the drawing room after dinner, attempting to talk to both his mother and Georgiana. It was hopeless. Neither ignored him. But there was no communication. They were all worlds apart. He excused himself early and retired to his room. He was miserable with the knowledge that his wife was unhappy and that he was about to sin against her. He was about to set up an opera dancer as his mistress.
He was going to be unfaithful to Georgiana.
CHAPTER 11
"AUNT HILDA, I have been charged by Mama to tell you that if you have recovered from your headache, you are to call out your carriage this afternoon and go to take tea with her. She is expecting other company that she believes you will enjoy." Roger Beauchamp smiled at his aunt and waited with raised eyebrows for her reply.
"I am still not in the best of health," the dowager countess said, "but perhaps I will accept dear Elspeth's invitation, Roger. Everyone in my own household is too busy to keep me company. Not that I can expect them to. They all have their own lives ahead of them. I have had mine already. Stanley is rarely at home, though of course he is a growing boy and needs to get out to meet new people and keep up with the fashions and the news. Ralph is more concerned with the affairs of the House of Lords than with his family, and Gloria has suddenly become giddy and taken to visiting friends in the afternoons. And now you have come to take Georgiana driving."
"Dear aunt!" Roger said. "May I speak to your butler about bringing around the carriage?"
"Tell him half an hour," she called as he turned to leave the room. She turned to Georgiana. "I am sure Ralph would consider it unexceptionable for you to drive in the park with my nephew, dear. But then Ralph never did have much of a notion of how to go on in society. You are fortunate indeed, Georgiana, to have such an indulgent husband. My dear Chartleigh would have called out the man who dared to so much as talk to me without his consent."
"Yes, I am fortunate," Georgiana agreed, smiling warmly at her mother-in-law. "How dreadful it must be to have a husband who does not trust one's good judgment and character."
She rose to her feet and left the room to fetch her cloak and muff for the ride in the park. How dreadful she was becoming, she thought with some remorse, digging in her claws just like a cat.
"My mother-in-law does not approve of my driving out with you, you know," she said to Roger a few minutes later as his phaeton was maneuvering its way in I lie direction of the park.
"She never did trust me after discovering me at the age of eighteen fondling one of her scullery maids in a broom closet," Roger said, turning to grin at Georgiana.
"How shocking!" she said. "Did you really?"
"And she would disapprove of this outing still more if she knew that you had written to me this morning asking for it," he said. "Do you have no notion at all of proper behavior, Georgie?"
"Certainly," she said. "But if I had done the proper thing and waited until I saw you next, I might have waited for weeks."
"Quite so," he said. "And I cannot imagine any female having the fortitude so to deprive herself. To what do I owe the honor, my dear little cousin?"
"I have been thinking," she said, "and I believe you are right. It would do Ralph the world of good to gain some experience with other women."
"Spoken with a stiff upper lip and a breaking heart, doubtless," Roger said. "But I mistrust the gleam in your eye, Georgie. Out with it. What are you planning? To catch him red-handed in compromising circumstances so that you may beat him over the head with a frying pan?"
"No," she said, turning and looking at him with wide eyes, "I mean it, Roger. You must persuade him to take a mistress."
"Are you relinquishing all interest in him?" Roger asked. "Or are you planning to sit back for a suitable number of months or years, patiently twiddling your thumbs until he has the experience to make an interesting husband?"
"Neither," she said. "I am going to be his mistress."
Roger gave her his full attention. A carter shouted angrily as his horses swerved toward the center of a crowded road. "I believe I have missed a step in this-very fascinating and quite scandalous conversation, Georgie," he said. "Hang on a minute. Let me coax these brutes through the park gates before you continue. I have the feeling I am going to need all my concentration to listen to you."
Georgiana did as she was bidden and sat primly beside Lord Beauchamp, hands clasped inside her muff, feet in their warm half-boots set side by side on the footrest before her.
"Now then," Roger said at last, "let me hear this plan of yours, Georgie. I would wager my fortune on its being quite priceless."
"Has he met that dancer yet?" Georgiana. asked. "Has he begun a liaison with her?"
"By no means," Roger said. "I do not believe he is even interested."
"And she is a little like me, you said?" Georgiana asked.
"Absolutely not!" he assured her. "Except a little in height and build, I suppose. No, she has not nearly your beauty or delicacy of feature, Georgie. And probably none of your indelicacy of tongue, either."
"That will be good enough," she said. "It will be your task, Roger, to persuade Ralph that he does want her. I shall impersonate her."
"What?" Roger began to laugh. "You would have to dye your hair bright red and smear your face with cosmetics at the very least, Georgie."
"How disgusting!" she said. "But that will be quite unnecessary, of course. I assume the assignations would be a night?"
&
nbsp; "Probably," he conceded.
''It will be easy enough then," she said. "A darkened room, a heavy veil over my face and head, a feigned voice, and the disguise will be complete."
Roger had drawn the horses almost to a halt. He held the reins loosely in one hand and continued to laugh.
"Impossible, Georgie," he said. "Do you seriously believe that your own husband would not recognize you?"
"Yes," she said. "He would not even see me. Are you to make the arrangements? I imagine so, since I do not believe Ralph would know how to go about setting it all up. Then you must tell him that this dancer is somewhat eccentric and refuses to let herself be seen except on the stage. The room where I receive him can be quite dark, can it not? And the bedchamber can be completely without light. And I will not need to talk a great deal. I do not imagine such women talk much, do they, Roger? They are too busy with other matters."
"Georgie!" Roger said, turning a grinning face in her direction. "You are putting me to the blush. Please remember that, unlike you, I am unmarried and unversed in such matters."
"Oh, pray be serious," she said crossly. "We have much to arrange and should really not be gone from the house for longer than an hour. That would not be proper, especially as the park is virtually deserted at this time of year. You see, I do know something of propriety."
"You could have deceived me by what you have chosen as a topic of conversation for this afternoon," Roger said fervently. "How would you get out of Middleton House to keep your assignations, Georgie? And how get back home again? Have you thought of that?"
"Well, of course I have thought of that!" Georgiana said. "Do you take me for a complete clothhead, Roger? I have a faithful maid, who used to help me escape from Papa's house all the time when I was sent to my room for various offenses. And though I was punished numerous times, it was never for one of those escapades. I was never caught. And as for getting to the rendezvous, wherever that is, why, you will escort me there and back, of course, Roger."