‘I cannot help worrying that marrying me isn’t what he really wants.’ She shut the lid and put the box back on the shelf.
Sukey grinned. ‘Oh, is that all? Georgiana, you goose! He must have known what would happen if he got caught up here. And yet he still came up. So he must have been prepared to take the risk.’
‘Yes, that’s what he said, but that still isn’t the same as actually deciding he wanted to marry me and proposing in the regular way, is it?’ She dropped on to a stool by the full-length mirror.
Sukey made a dismissive motion with her hand. ‘Who cares what he thought, or why he acted how he did? You are going to be a countess. And I’m going to have a whopping great dowry. Which means clothes galore!’ She whisked off her shawl and twirled round with it over her head, almost knocking the candlesticks from the mantel.
‘There’s more to life than clothes,’ said Georgie, flinching out of the way as one corner of Sukey’s shawl whizzed past her nose.
‘Such as?’ Sukey stopped twirling and draped the shawl over her head, letting it droop over her eyes like a veil.
‘Such as being a good wife,’ said Georgiana wistfully.
‘I don’t know why you are worrying about that. It’s easy.’
‘Is it?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Sukey blithely, settling the shawl round her shoulders with an effortless flick and a shrug. ‘Mama says all you have to do is ask your husband, at the outset, what he wants of a wife and then pretend you are trying to be that.’
Georgie rested her chin on her fist. ‘He’s already told me what he wants. He wants children. Heirs,’ she said despondently as she cast her mind back to the reason he’d refused her proposal in the first place. ‘But—’
Sukey shuddered. ‘Oh. I see what you mean. You are picturing having to do your duty in the bedroom. With him.’
‘I don’t know why you should pull a face like that. I am sure it won’t be...’ She struggled to find a suitable word.
‘Nasty,’ supplied Sukey.
‘No. It most definitely won’t be nasty.’
‘How can you tell?’
Because of Liza and Wilkins. It had been a miracle for her to have imagined that scene in the stable without shuddering. For her to have experienced a shaft of wicked excitement when she’d replaced herself and Edmund in those positions told her a lot.
Not that she could admit as much to Sukey.
‘Well, because whenever most men take my hand, or even look at me in a certain way, I feel...contaminated,’ she finished on a shudder. ‘But when Edmund does so, it is quite the opposite. I get a sort of fluttery feeling, here.’ She pressed her hand to her stomach. ‘And when he kissed me—’
Sukey shrieked. ‘He kissed you? When?’ She dropped to the floor at Georgiana’s feet.
‘When he came to my room,’ she said. And paused, reliving the wonderful moment when he’d leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead.
‘What was it like?’
A warm tingle swirled through her middle as she recalled how close his face had been to hers. She’d been able to smell his soap and his clothes, and his skin. She’d wanted to turn to him and press her lips against that smoothly shaven cheek.
‘It was lovely, actually. It made me want to—’ Her lips had actually parted, now she came to think of it. If Stepmama had not burst in she might very well have kissed him back.
‘Yes?’ Sukey leaned forward eagerly.
‘Well, it made me feel...’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I cannot describe it. It has just made me realise—’ although not until this afternoon ‘—that nothing he does, no way he could touch me, could ever possibly disgust me. Not even...the ultimate intimacy.’
‘There, you see? Did not Mama tell you that it was all a question of finding the right man? Now you have found him, you feel differently, don’t you? Oh, it is all going to be wonderful. I am so happy for you.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ she said. ‘Edmund wants...or rather, he doesn’t want...or doesn’t seem in any hurry to—’ She broke off, blushing, and started fiddling with the trimming on her sleeve.
Now it was Sukey’s turn to gasp.
‘Did he actually tell you that? Today?’
Georgiana nodded.
‘Why do you think that could be? Do you think—? No, there isn’t anything wrong with him. He’s had several mistresses, hasn’t he?’
‘Yes. But none of them have looked anything like me, have they? Not according to gossip. They’ve all been dainty, extremely feminine little things. I’m just not his type, Sukey. And...well—’ She broke off in consternation as a big chunk of tulle came away in her agitated fingers. At which point Sukey urged her to her feet and began undoing the buttons.
‘See? I’m not feminine, or graceful,’ she moaned as Sukey pulled off the damaged pelisse and strode across the room to hang it up. ‘I’m not pretty, or clever. I don’t have a title. Or a dowry. The only thing I could give him is an heir and, if he isn’t even interested in me in that way...’
‘You really do want to be a proper wife to him, don’t you?’
‘Yes. And if I can’t make him...you know,’ she said, with a blush. ‘I’m afraid he might go on taking mistresses. And that would kill me, Sukey. I can’t bear to think I’m so lacking that he would need to take his pleasure elsewhere.’ Especially as it would be her own fault. She’d told him she couldn’t face that aspect of matrimony.
‘He won’t.’
‘How can you say that? Oh. It’s because you are trying to make me feel better, aren’t you?’
‘No,’ said Sukey, taking both her hands and giving them a squeeze. ‘Georgie, are you blind? You are the one in whose bedroom he was found. You are the one he has followed into routs and balls he generally avoids like the plague. You are the one he introduced to his friends and their wives, and their sisters. And it was on your account that he set everyone in a bustle by knocking Mr Eastman down. Which could only have been because he was jealous.’
‘Jealous? Edmund?’ No, she couldn’t believe it. She could see him being protective. He’d seen how uncomfortable Mr Eastman had made her and correctly guessed it was because he’d made a lewd proposition.
Or perhaps he’d seen her clenching her fists and had decided to knock the man down before she could do so herself and ruin herself for ever in the eyes of society.
‘Oh, it’s so romantic,’ Sukey chirped. ‘Everyone says so. In fact, the only person who is surprised you are getting married seems to be you.’ Sukey giggled. ‘Come on, Georgiana, don’t dwell on all your imperfections. Just enjoy the prospect of marrying an earl and becoming a countess. I do not know of any other girl who wouldn’t be crowing in triumph at achieving such a coup! For there have been dozens of women who have tried with Lord Ashenden and failed, you know. The rumour is that he hasn’t even noticed them, not even when they’ve practically flung themselves at his feet.’
‘Well, no, he wouldn’t, not if he was thinking of something else.’ Like the discovery of a new species of moth, for example, or some other advance in the field of the natural sciences. ‘But, how do you know all this?’
‘Oh, Lotty and Dotty can find out just about anything that goes on in society, now that their cousin has married Lord Havelock. And everyone is convinced he is in love with you.’
‘In love with me?’ She shook her head. ‘He just feels an obligation to me, that’s all. He told me so.’
‘Hmm...’ Sukey pondered for a moment. And then her face lit up. ‘He might say that. But actions speak louder than words. And he has behaved like a man who is head over heels in love.’
‘Has he?’
‘Yes. So even if you do feel as if you’ve bagged him in an underhanded way—’
‘I didn’t bag him at all!’
‘But
you have definitely triumphed where many prettier, richer, better-bred girls have failed. Doesn’t that tell you something?’
‘Only that he couldn’t see anything improper about coming to my room. Because he doesn’t think of me as particularly female at all. If anything, he probably still thinks of me in a kind of brotherly way.’ With his vision blinkered by that mist of past perceptions he’d mentioned. ‘Or as the rather grubby little playmate who dogged his every footstep,’ she finished glumly.
‘And you want him to see you as a woman.’
‘Well, of course I do!’
Because he was the right man for her.
‘Well, then, all you have to do is show him you are not his childhood playmate. Show him you are a woman now.’
‘But how?’
‘Goodness, Georgie, I should have thought that was obvious,’ said Sukey, gesturing to the front of her gown. ‘You don’t get more womanly than those.’
Georgiana blushed. Was Sukey suggesting she...? Her mind skittered away from what she thought Sukey might be suggesting. Surely only...trollops bared themselves to a man in order to...entice him. And she didn’t want Edmund to think she was like that. To disgust him. Because then she might even lose the friendship which was all he seemed willing to offer her. And she would have nothing left.
Not even her self-respect.
Oh, lord. What was she to do?
She didn’t know.
* * *
She was too busy over the next few days to come up with an answer, what with fittings for gowns and expeditions to purchase accessories, and lists to make, not to mention feeding and entertaining all the people who suddenly crowded their drawing room when they were at home.
And on the few occasions she saw Edmund, Stepmama made sure they were never alone, so that she couldn’t have broached the topic with him, even if she had known what to say. Besides which, whenever he did walk into the drawing room, everyone else would fade away and she would feel all dreamy. And she’d look at his mouth and wonder what it would feel like if he ever kissed her properly. Or his hands, and imagine them stroking her arms, or even cupping her breasts. And she’d go hot all over and have to avert her gaze, and could only stammer a stilted reply when he spoke.
And he would study her with concern, or remove his spectacles and polish them for far longer than necessary.
And she would shrink. Because she just couldn’t see how it was ever going to work between them.
* * *
Then she was walking into church, on the arm of Lord Havelock, who’d agreed to give her away. And then she was promising to love, honour and obey Edmund. Then they were walking out of the church, into a dazzlingly bright day, and his mother was standing before her with a determined smile on her face.
‘Welcome to the family,’ she said, leaning forward as though she was about to kiss her cheek and missing it by several inches. ‘You do my son credit in that gown. It is lovely. Quite lovely.’
Since Stepmama was responsible for the choice of her gown, the compliment managed to avoid saying anything to credit Georgie for anything at all. Still, at least his mother had given the appearance of approving of her son’s choice of wife, which was more than she’d expected.
There was the wedding breakfast, with a witty speech from Lord Havelock about Edmund’s propensity for making lists and planning everything down to the last detail, then being surprised when love got hold of him by the scruff of the neck and made him throw all his lists out of the window. Which everyone else thought hilarious, but only made her more conscious of her unsuitability to become his wife.
But she was his wife. They were toasting the bride, which was her. And then she was standing at the doorway, bidding her guests farewell. And he was handing her over to a tall, thin woman who he said was his housekeeper, who was going to show her to her room, and bidding her goodnight.
And she couldn’t breathe properly.
For how could she tell him that she did want to consummate their marriage right away, without sounding like a...trollop?
Why didn’t she have the skills to...to indicate to him, somehow, that she wanted to be his wife, right now?
She’d wager Sukey wouldn’t have problems like this on her wedding night. She would instinctively know how to arouse and inflame her husband until he had reached a state where he’d dismiss all the servants and drag her off somewhere private, not send her off to her bedroom while he strolled off to his own.
But she’d spent so long disliking her body that she now had no idea how to wield it the way a normal, natural woman would. Because of being called a trollop, and fearing that she might actually be one, she’d ruthlessly suppressed all that side of her nature, so that now she actually wanted to give it free rein, she had no idea where to start.
How did a bride seduce a reluctant groom on their wedding night? Without losing all her self-respect? For that was what would happen if she were to leave her bedroom and go searching this massive mansion for his.
So she allowed Mavis—the maid who was waiting for her in the sumptuous and enormous room allotted to her—to prepare her for bed. And resigned herself to spending her wedding night alone.
But a few minutes after she’d climbed into her richly decorated, lavender-scented tester bed, and the maid had departed with her wedding finery draped over her arm, there was a knock on the door.
Her heart leaped. She clutched the sheet to her chest, in sheer surprise. Could that be Edmund?
‘Come in,’ she said, in a voice that sounded, to her own ears, full of all the insecurities that had been bubbling up inside her all day. Longer. Ever since they’d become betrothed. No, longer than that. Ever since Papa had married Stepmama and they’d made her believe she was a failure as a female.
It was Edmund.
He was still fully dressed.
And he was frowning.
‘Is something amiss?’ He was looking at the way she was clutching the sheet to her chest. ‘I have already told you, you need not fear that I will pounce on you and demand my marital rights. I only came in to—’
‘But that’s just it,’ she cut in. Because she was never going to get a better chance to tell him how she felt than the one he’d just handed her.
‘I would like you to pounce,’ she said, flinging the sheet aside and scrambling out of bed. ‘I mean, not pounce, exactly. But for you to...start...um...’
‘Georgie, you don’t need to say that,’ he said, going to her dressing table, and setting down the large box he was carrying. ‘I could see how nervous you were all day. And if it is a case of wanting to get it over with, then—’
‘No! I am not nervous. Well, that isn’t completely true. I am terribly nervous. But not frightened any longer. Or...revolted by the idea of...’ She glanced in the direction of the bed.
He noticed that sideways glance and frowned.
‘Georgie, I only came in here to bring you a...a small wedding gift.’
Her heart sank.
Because it wasn’t her feelings about...it that were the issue here, was it? It was his. And he definitely didn’t look the least bit like an eager bridegroom.
It was all very well Sukey suggesting she tempt him with her...best assets. But he’d never given any indication he was the slightest bit impressed by them. While other men had addressed all their remarks to the front of her gown, Edmund had nearly always looked her straight in the eye.
As he was doing now. With a touch of impatience as he fiddled with the handle on the walnut box he’d just put down.
As though he wanted to get the gift-giving over with and retreat to the safety of his own room.
‘Oh, I see,’ she said, as calmly as she could, considering it felt as though her courage was leaking out of her like water through a sieve. ‘Well, thank you then.’
If Edmund really didn’t want her, the way a groom should want a bride, then somehow she would just have to learn to live with it.
And learning to deal with the kind of marriage he wanted might as well start right now.
She crossed the room to where he was still fiddling with the handle of the walnut box, a rather forbidding expression on his face.
‘May I open it now?’
‘Of course. In fact, I particularly wanted to be here when you opened it,’ he said, taking a step back as she reached out a hand to remove the lid.
‘It occurred to me,’ he said, ‘that if we’d had a conventional courtship, I would have given you many gifts already. So this, my first one to you, had to be extra special. But remember, Georgie,’ he said, putting out his hand to stop her just as she was about to remove the lid, ‘that I’m a man of science, not some damn fop.’
She looked up into his face, startled by the defensive note she could hear in his voice.
‘My first wedding gift to you is...at least, some people may consider it a touch...’ He frowned down at the box. ‘Actually, a lot of people would say it was downright eccentric. But not you.’ He glanced down at her, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.
‘I’m sure I won’t,’ she said, sensing that whatever he was about to give her was not only a gift, but also a test of some sort. A test she was determined to pass.
Chapter Twenty
‘May I see?’
‘Oh. Yes, of course,’ he said and pulled his hand away.
Really intrigued now, by his uncharacteristic display of uncertainty, she finally pulled off the lid and peeped inside.
Inside the sleek walnut case was a glass box with a wooden lid, filled with what looked like a selection of leafy twigs. Only when she peered really closely did she see that there were also about a dozen different sorts of caterpillars, wriggling about amongst the foliage. Some of them were really ugly-looking things. At least, a lot of people would find them so. Especially if their groom handed them a box full on their wedding night rather than a diamond necklace, say, or a book of poetry. But Edmund was setting so much store by it that she knew it had to have a special message.
The Debutante's Daring Proposal Page 22