Gentle conquest

by Mary Balogh

  "So it has been worth all the risk, Georgie," he had stated. It had not been a question.

  He had looked away then and remained quiet until the carriage was drawn to a halt some distance from Middleton House. And even when he had taken her arm and escorted her to the side door of the house, he had said nothing beyond a good night greeting.

  She had been grateful for his tact. She had been very aware of how rosy her cheeks must be and how bright her eyes. She had been far too excited and happy to disguise her feelings. Now, of course, it was somewhat different. It was daytime. Here she was, apparently a respectable married lady calling on her mama and her sister. And there was he, handsome and elegant, an unmarried gentleman paying an afternoon social call. And just last night he had taken her to an illicit meeting with her own husband to render services for which she had been very well paid indeed!

  Georgiana almost giggled. She curtsied hastily and launched into speech. She had walked again from Middleton House, but one of the maids had been sent to accompany her, if anyone could imagine anything so tiresome. She had tried to persuade Gloria to come with her, but her sister-in-law was so busy with wedding preparations that she did not even have time for an afternoon visit. Did everyone like her new bonnet? She had not meant to purchase it at all, but when she had been on Bond Street looking for new gloves, she had seen it and fallen in love with it. Was it not a sin to be buying things one did not really need? But how dull to have only the necessities.

  "Georgie, dear, do sit down," her mother said, "and hear our news. The builders have finally finished the repairs on the house, and Papa says that we are to go home within the month. I never thought to say so, dear, but I shall be most awfully glad to get away from town for a while. I had no idea that life could be so dull with so many people away."

  "Oh, but I shall miss you," Georgiana cried. "Cannot Papa go alone, Mama, to see that the work has been properly carried out? Does he need to drag you and Vera along with him?"

  "I was just trying to persuade Miss Burton to walk with me when you arrived, Georgie," Lord Beauchamp said. "She was murmuring some fears about the wind, which is reputed to bite right through to the bone. Can you confirm such a report? I must say the only evidence of cold I can see in you is the rosiness of your cheeks."

  "Oh, it is windy," Georgiana said, "but very bracing. A lovely day for a gallop."

  "Galloping is not an extremely elegant way to move around on foot," his lordship commented, "but if a more sedate walk would suit you, Georgie, perhaps you and your sister will accompany me? I have two arms and can hardly think of a better use to which to put them."

  "I shall certainly come," Georgians said, leaping to her feet. "I cannot speak for Vera."

  Her sister frowned at her, unseen by Lord Beauchamp. "I shall be delighted to come too," she said, the tone of her voice contradicting her words. "But do sit down again, Georgie. I shall have to change into walking clothes and I hate to know that someone is standing impatiently down here waiting for me."

  "I shall come up with you," Georgiana announced, "and make sure that you wear a suitable color. You have a dreadful tendency to choose yellow or gray or some other shade that is all wrong for you."

  She followed her sister upstairs and into her room and curled up on the bed while Vera began to get ready. "Wear the green," she said. "It is very dashing with the frogged buttons and epaulets. I wish I had one similar. And I do admire the new way you have of dressing your hair, Vera. It looks far more becoming looped down over your ears like that. In fact, it vastly improves your whole appearance."

  "Why did you agree to go walking?" Vera asked. "You have only just arrived, Georgie, and Mama has h ad scarcely a chance to exchange a word with you."

  Georgiana sat up. "Have I offended her, do you think?" she asked. "I did not think of that. I am so used to doing exactly as I please with Mama. She is so easygoing."

  "No," Vera said. "I do not suppose Mama will mind. But Lord Beauchamp, Georgie! I really cannot like your association with him."

  "Why not?" Georgiana's eyes were wide. "He is Ralph's cousin."

  "And an unprincipled man and a rake," Vera said. "He does not even behave like a gentleman."

  Georgiana frowned. "How can you say that?" she said. "I have always found him perfectly friendly. And he has always been polite to you, Vera. He has danced with you and I have seen him conversing with you on several occasions. Why, he even came here today to take you walking. I believe if I were in your position, I should feel flattered."

  "You mean if you were three-and-twenty and unattached and very plain," Vera said, "you would welcome the attentions of a handsome, charming rake."

  Georg(iana looked at her sister in surprise. Vera was always so placid, so sensible. Now she sounded cross, almost spiteful. "You have such a low opinion of yourself, Vera," she %aid. "I have always told you that you are not plain at all. And your single state is of your own choosing. I know for a fact that you have turned down at least two offers. And Roger is not a conceited man. He cannot help the fact that he has been blessed with extraordinary good looks."

  "He treats you with too great a familiarity," Vera persisted. "He calls you 'Georgie.' Why, even your husband does not call you that. I believe his intentions toward you are not honorable."

  "Stuff!" Georgiana was shocked enough to say. "Roger does not flirt with married ladies. He told me so himself."

  "You see what I mean?" Vera said, pausing in the process of pinning her hat to her hair. "What on earth was he about, to even mention such a thing to you? I hate to say this, Georgie, but I love you and I shall say it anyway. I think you are rather struck with Lord Beauchamp. And it is a shame. You have a husband whom I believe to be a fine young man. I am disappointed to see your eye roving already."

  Georgiana jumped down from the bed and smoothed out her skirts with angry hands. "It is not so," she said. "I am true to my husband and I appreciate his good qualities quite as much as you, Vera. Roger is merely a friend. I had not expected you to accuse me. It is bad enough to have Ralph's mother and brother insinuating such things."

  "Oh, Georgie," Vera said, her face full of concern. "Have they noticed too? Do have a care. You know how thoughtless you can be sometimes and what scrapes you can get into as a result. But this would be much worse than usual, you know."

  "We are keeping Roger waiting," her sister said stiffly.

  Lord Beauchamp appeared to notice nothing amiss in the atmosphere around him as he took a lady on each arm and led them in the direction of the park. He conversed amiably with both and soon restored Georgiana at least to good spirits. She was strolling along the edge of the grass beside the main pathway, swinging her reticule, when she suddenly stopped, pulled her arm from Roger's, and shrieked in most unladylike fashion.

  "Dennis!" she yelled, and picking up her skirts, she began to run toward a curricle which was approaching from some distance. The driver stopped his vehicle, swung himself down from the high seat while flinging the ribbons to his tiger, and broke her headlong flight by catching her in his arms and swinging her around.

  "Dennis Vaughan, you are back!" Georgiana announced rather unnecessarily. "You have been gone this age. And I have so much to tell you."

  "So I gather," the young man replied, doffing his hat to reveal a shock of bright red hair. "Not the least item being that you have got yourself married since I left, Georgie. Most unsporting of you, you know, without giving the rest of your admirers fair warning so that they might have made their own counteroffers."

  "Oh, nonsense!" she said. "You know you would not have offered for me, Dennis. You have said yourself that you will not marry until you are well past thirty, and you are only seven-and-twenty now."

  "Eight," he corrected her.

  "And anyway, we would make a dreadful match," she told him cheerfully. "We do not have a sensible or stable thought between us. We both need someone to control our madder impulses."

  He grinned and chucked her under the chin. "And is tha
t what you have found in Lord Chartleigh?" he asked. "I confess I have never met him, though I have heard that he is bookish and indecently young."

  "You must not say anything about Ralph that even borders on criticism, you know," she said, "or you will have my wrath to deal with."

  "Dreadful!" he said, cringing back from her. "A love match, is it, Georgie? Pardon me, Miss Burton. I am being dreadfully ill-mannered. How d' ye do, ma'am? Beauchamp?"

  Bows and greetings were exchanged.

  "If you are walking, I might as well join you for a while," Dennis said. "I need the exercise."

  He gave directions to his tiger to take his curricle to the gate and wait for him there. He offered his arm to Georgiana and the two of them strolled on ahead.

  "So, Miss Burton," Lord Beauchamp said, taking Vera's hand and setting it inside his arm again, "you find yourself trapped into being alone with me after all. My commiseration, ma'am."

  "Thank you," she said, "but I find walking in the park with another couple quite respectable exercise, sir."

  "Ah," he said, patting her hand, "I see. It was to walking alone with me here that you objected when I first made the suggestion, was it? Did you fear that I would give into my baser passions and take you behind a tree to taste of your lips, perhaps? You malign me, ma'am. I shall choose a far warmer and more comfortable setting in which to do that when the time comes."

  "Do you talk to all ladies this way?" she asked in a suffocated voice. "I find your conversation quite shocking and insulting."

  "No," he said, "in fact, I do not. Now, what is it about you that gives me the irresistible urge to shock? You have an air of great calmness and self-control. Admirable qualities, doubtless. But does that manner reveal the whole of Miss Burton? I think not. If you wish to be left to your quiet existence, you must curse the fate that gave your face that trick it has of transforming itself when you forget your ladylike dignity. And those eyes of yours, my dear. They tell me that you are a woman of deep feeling and passion. They excite me. There, have I succeeded in paralyzing you with shock?"

  "If your purpose is to seduce me," she said, her voice low, her eyes firmly fixed on the ground ahead of her, "I must tell you that you waste your time, my lord. You are a type of man I despise."

  "A type?" he said. "You could scarce have wounded me more. Do I have no individuality, ma'am?"

  "No," she said, "I think not. There is a certain type of man who has good looks, charm, and wealth, and believes that the world is here to cater to his every whim and that every female must be falling over her own feet to attract him. You are such a man, I believe. But I am not such a woman."

  "Indeed," he said, and the teasing note in his voice had been replaced by a somewhat biting edge. "You almost tempt me, ma'am, to go to work to proving you wrong. But, alas, it has never been my practice to seduce either married ladies or virtuous unmarried ones. That principle has left me a very obvious choice, has it not? No, my dear, my intentions toward you-if intentions I have-are entirely honorable. I do not, by the way, call a kiss a seduction, do you? I fully intend to kiss you before the winter is out. I have a notion that it will be an interesting experience."

  "If you enjoy having your face slapped, then I must agree with you, sir," Vera said.

  He laughed and patted her hand again, his good humor restored. Georgiana turned at that moment to make some observation, and both couples started back in the direction of the gates. The conversation became general.

  ***

  Ralph had accepted a dinner engagement for himself and his wife that evening at the home of Lord Standen, whose acquaintance he had made during the past weeks in the House of Lords. Lord Standen shared his concern for social reform and had several interesting ideas that had drawn Ralph's attention.

  Ralph arrived home before Georgiana in the afternoon and waited for her in the drawing room. Gloria was bright with the news that David Boscome was coming to London for a few days as soon as he could leave his parish, in order to see her and discuss their wedding plans. His mother, Ralph noticed, made no comment but continued with her embroidery.

  "Mama," he said, "will you wish to go to Chartleigh early in December? You know so much more about organizing big events than anyone else in the family. I am sure your presence will be invaluable."

  She looked up. " Well, as to that," she said, "I have indeed had much experience. Chartleigh expected me to oversee all our entertainments, you know, even though we always had servants enough to see to things themselves. And if Gloria is really set on this marriage, I suppose I had better make sure that everything is done as it should be."

  Ralph smiled. "It will be the grandest wedding the countryside can remember, I am sure," he said. "Whatever would we do without you, Mama?"

  "Well," she said, clearly gratified, "I have always known my duty, Ralph, and I have always tried to teach you and Gloria and Stanley yours."

  He crossed the room to kiss her on the cheek. "I think I am going to tell you of a Christmas present I have been planning for you," he said. "I would like to keep it a secret, but I think the gift would be so much the better if you helped plan it. How would you like to have the dower house, Mama, and a free hand to decorate it and furnish it as you choose?"

  She looked up at him sharply. "The dower house?" she said, frowning.

  "You always liked to entertain when Papa was alive," Ralph said, "and I know that you were greatly respected as a hostess. It has struck me that perhaps you feel inhibited somewhat now that I have a wife. Perhaps you feel you are no longer free to treat the house as your own and to plan your own entertainments. I would not wish you to feel that way, Mama. I would like you to be mistress of your own establishment-provided you will promise me that I shall always be welcome there."

  He was leaning over his mother's chair, smiling gently down at her. She patted his hand after a moment's hesitation.

  "You have always had a generous heart, Ralph," she said. "I will grant you that. If only you had some of your dear papa's firmness of manner, you would promise very well. I will not be cheap, you know. The dower house will need a great many changes before it will be a suitable establishment for me."

  "I told you, Mama," he said, straightening up and laying one hand on her shoulder, "you may have a free hand. It will be a Christmas present that will come to you with all my love."

  Gloria had been listening quietly from across the room. "Mama," she said now, "I believe that if you look very closely, you will find that Ralph's gentleness of manner hides a remarkably firm character. I am exceedingly proud of my brother."

  Georgiana saved Ralph from the embarrassment of having to reply. Though as to that, he thought as his eyes alighted on his wife, this was a moment he had been dreading all day. He had not seen her since before his visit to Kensington the night before. He had not known quite how he would face her without his guilt and shame showing for all to see.

  Georgiana beamed on everyone, her eyes sliding away from Ralph so that he was saved from the ordeal of having to meet her gaze. She was flushed from walking and was unusually animated. She started talking immediately, telling them about visiting her mother and sister and finding Roger there, going walking with him and Vera and having the good fortune of running into her old friend Dennis Vaughan, who had been obliging enough to walk with them for fifteen minutes and tell them all about his summer at Brighton, where he had actually seen the Regent's pavilion, which he judged to b e a monstrosity and an uncomfortable building to be inside because Prince George kept it so hot that ladies were always fainting all over the place, but Prinny never would admit that it was less healthy to exclude all fresh air than it would have been to risk some drafts now and then.

  The dowager cut off this breathless monologue by telling her to sit down and pour herself some tea from the pot, which was still hot. Ralph had been watching her with growing wonder. What had wrought this change? Had Roger or this Vaughan had something to do with it? He knew a sudden stab of guilt over the fact that she had
to seek companionship from men other than himelf. He had given up taking her out in the daytime when it became clear that they could not be alone.

  "Do you have enough energy left to go out for dinner tonight, Georgiana?" he asked.

  She turned her attention to him, and the flush on her cheeks seemed to deepen. "Oh, where?" she asked.

  "Lord Standen has invited us together with some other guests, I believe," he said. "I said we would come."

  "That would be lovely," she said, her voice sounding breathless to his ears. She smiled.

  "You really should do less walking, my dear," the dowager said to her. "You will ruin your complexion. If you are going out tonight, I would suggest a rest for an hour. You do not want shadows under your eyes. There is nothing more calculated to make a person look bagged."

  Georgiana turned the smile on her mother-in-law. "That is a good idea, Mother," she said. "If you will excuse me, I think I shall take your advice. Will my blue satin and lace gown be suitable, Ralph? And my pearls?"

  "Perfect," he said, rising to open the door for her. "And your complexion looks very far from ruined to me, dear."

  He followed her upstairs a few minutes later. It wits far too early to get ready for dinner, but he too felt that a rest might do him good. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

  He was soon in a pleasantly drowsy state, lying on top of the covers on his bed, his hands linked behind his head. There was a fire crackling in the grate, giving off a cozy warmth. He was glad that he and Georgiana were going out to dinner. Just the two of them. She had seemed quite delighted when he mentioned the engagement to her. He had expected some opposition. Lord Standen's parties were not renowned for the gaiety of the entertainment they offered. Rather, they were usually gathering grounds for intellectual conversation and the interchange of political ideas. Perhaps Georgiana did not know that.