An Elegant Façade (Hawthorne House Book #2) (9 page)

She snapped back into an upright position in her seat. “Trent, we’re leaving.”

Lord Trent grinned. “Now? But it was getting so interesting.”

“Now.” She pushed to her feet and both gentlemen rose as well.

“Very well.” Lord Trent turned to Colin. “Mr. McCrae, you and I are members of the same club, are we not?”

Colin nodded with a bit of trepidation. Had he pushed the exchange with Lady Georgina too far? It had been perilously close to several boundaries of propriety.

“Let’s meet for billiards soon. I think you and I might get along famously.” Lord Trent extended his hand with a grin.

Lady Georgina groaned. “Brothers. You are absolutely worthless.”

Colin grinned back as he shook the younger man’s hand. “Afternoon after tomorrow?”

“Splendid.” Lord Trent offered his arm to his sister. “Come along, Georgina. You’ve a two o’clock appointment to have your claws sharpened.”

The smile on Colin’s face as he watched the siblings leave was no doubt wider than it should have been. He couldn’t help it, though. That had been the most fun he’d had in a very long time.

Perhaps his frequent encounters with Lady Georgina weren’t such a bad thing after all.

“People are starting to stare, my lady.” The quiet, subservient tone of Harriette’s voice did more to remind Georgina they were amongst other people than the words did. Only in public did Harriette become the picture of an ideal lady’s maid.

The street was crowded, and a brief glance around revealed that people were indeed beginning to notice that she was standing in front of a bookstore and not going in. Would they possibly be able to guess why? To the left of the window filled with colorful leather bindings and large antique books was a jewelry store, sparkling and familiar.

Surely Georgina needed a trinket of some kind. A birthday present? A new brooch? A hatpin at the very least. “What do you think of a new pin? I believe I could use a bit more sparkle with two of those evening gowns we purchased.”

Harriette’s brows drew together as she took a half step closer, pressing into Georgina’s shoulder. “You didn’t storm from the house determined to buy baubles. We’re here for a book.”

Yes, they were. She’d been putting off this errand, knowing the endeavor would put her in a foul mood. Since her encounter with Mr. McCrae at the coffeehouse had left her in a dismal temper, she’d hauled her maid out shopping as soon as Trent
had seen her home. Time was running out for her to select a suitable reading passage, and there was no reason to ruin two days this week.

“You can do this, my lady. Just as we planned. We go in, go to the poetry section, and select the slimmest volume we can find. Then we pretend to look through a few more in case someone is looking before making our purchase and leaving.” Harriette gave Georgina’s hand a squeeze. “No more than twenty minutes.”

“Good afternoon.”

Georgina startled at the quiet greeting, noting the unspoken question in the phrase. Why did it have to be such a beautiful day? If it had only seen fit to rain this afternoon or at least threaten to do so, there wouldn’t be nearly as many people out shopping. She smiled at Lady Sarah and her mother. “Good afternoon. Isn’t the sun glorious today? I can’t bear to leave it and go inside the shops. I should have taken a turn in the park instead of venturing to Bond Street.”

Lady Sarah’s eyebrows rose before she looked at the sky herself, a small smile erasing her curiosity. “It is a glorious day.” She turned back to Georgina. “We’ve only one more stop to make. We could go for ices when we’re done. It is certainly the type of weather to warrant such an outing.”

“That sounds delightful.” It sounded anything but delightful. However, if eating an ice would help Lady Sarah swallow Georgina’s nonsense about enjoying the weather on the side of the road, she’d gladly partake of the cold treat. “Shall we meet you at Gunter’s in an hour?”

Lady Sarah’s agreement brought an end to the conversation, leaving Georgina once again standing outside the bookstore for no reason.

Harriette’s smirk was barely visible in the corner of Georgina’s vision.

“Not a word,” Georgina mumbled as she pushed her way into the bookstore before someone else caught her and she found herself agreeing to a horse race.

The abrupt change of lighting had her blinking as they wandered farther into the store. Where was the poetry section?

“Left.” Harriette’s low whisper directed Georgina’s attention, and she moved in that direction.

A slim book, already bound in blue leather with gold lettering on it, sat on display on a shelf at eye level. Georgina snatched it. “This one. Will this one do?”

The maid turned her head to read the cover. “It is poetry, my lady, but I’ve no idea if it’s any good.”

Georgina opened the book and flipped through the pages. Words were printed on each page. “Someone thought this person good enough to print an entire book of poetry by him. There’s bound to be one decent poem in the bunch.”

Harriette shrugged.

Georgina clutched the book to her chest. “That’s settled. Let’s go.”

“But what about the plan?” Harriette’s eyes were wide as she looked around the store.

“No one is paying us the least bit of attention.” Georgina hoped, anyway. She was afraid to look around in case she accidentally caught someone’s eye and found herself embroiled in a discussion about the latest gothic novel or some other such nonsense. “We’ve found a book. We’re leaving.”

“As you wish.”

Georgina paid for the book and waited for the clerk to wrap it in paper. The smell of books surrounded her—leather and paper and ink, all foreign enough on their own, but combined left her feeling out of sorts and a bit woozy.

She left Harriette to wait for the book and fled back to the street. Something was certainly going to have to be done about Jane’s new interest in poetry. Georgina refused to go through this every week.

Colin’s agitation had settled greatly after his interlude with Lady Georgina and Lord Trent, but the inane conversation in the
corner of Lady Buckton’s drawing room was enough to try his patience all over again. This was a card party, and he’d somehow gotten trapped in a conversation with two men who were both terrified of and desirous to please the London elite bustling about the various rooms.

“Have you been asked to participate in Leatham’s Cornwall project, McCrae?” Sir Robert Verney asked, trying and failing to look at ease.

Colin shook his head, both in answer to the question and in disbelief at the other man’s attitude. People like Sir Robert could easily move in a lower social circle and be the most important person in attendance. Being overly notable never suited Colin’s purposes, though, which made him perfectly comfortable to be the most inconsequential man in the room.

Most of the time.

Mr. Craven, the third man in their pitiful corner trio, laughed at Sir Robert’s question. “McCrae wouldn’t touch that if you paid him. We all know how McCrae feels about doing business with Leatham.”

Colin looked around the room to avoid his companions’ eyes. Leatham was still using slave labor in his northern mines. While Colin wasn’t naïve enough to think he’d completely evaded the practice, Colin did his level best to avoid business ventures that utilized slave labor.

“I’ve made a tidy sum from Leatham’s mines this year,” Mr. Craven said.

Of course he had. It made Colin sick. Fortunately that was one of the few things Colin and his father had agreed upon. Whatever arguments they’d had over the running of the company, they’d at least agreed to not ship people.

“I’ve made a tidy sum off Celestial Shipping,” Colin said, unwilling to let the conversation slide by. He liked Mr. Craven most of the time, at least when they weren’t in social situations like these. Perhaps Colin could convince him to move his money away from Leatham.

Whatever else Colin might have planned to say got stuck in his throat as he once again found himself distracted by the eye-catching glitter of an all-white ensemble. Why was his gaze always drawn to her? She should have faded away, lost in the sea of colors and trimmings.

His internal musings died as the personification of narcissism advanced directly toward him, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was entertaining to contemplate, though. What would the great Lady Georgina do if her target simply walked away?

Which did beg the question of why he was her target. After the exchange at the coffeehouse, he would have expected her to give him a wide berth.

Sir Robert and Mr. Craven continued to discuss lucrative investment options, but the conversation wasn’t enough to motivate Colin to look away from the lady’s approach, even though he wanted to. She cut through the crowd like a beam of light. It had been mere days since she made her first bow at the masquerade ball and already people were calling her the Angel of the Season, confusing her penchant for dressing in the color of purity with the actual possession of a sweet demeanor.

Colin likened her to a lump of ice and would be perfectly happy to go the rest of the Season without risking frostbite again.

At least she was hauling Lady Miranda behind her. By all accounts the sisters had nothing in common but a set of parents. For Ryland’s sake, Colin hoped that was true.

“I apologize for the intrusion,” Lady Georgina simpered, as if she truly wanted to talk to Colin and the two gentlemen next to him. “But my sister insisted we come over here.”

She smiled at Colin’s acquaintances before turning the carefully constructed curve of her lips in his direction. “Mr. McCrae, she particularly wanted to meet you. Lady Miranda, this is Mr. Colin McCrae. I believe you know the other two gentlemen.”

Lady Miranda’s eyes widened.

Colin bit back a laugh. The gentlemen with him were probably known to her only by sight. While of higher rank than Colin, they
were even less popular, invited to even out numbers or fill the ranks with less eligible gentlemen.

Their popularity, or lack thereof, could have something to do with their insistence on dwelling in corners.

“How do you do, Lady Miranda?” Colin bit his cheek to keep from grinning. “I was just telling Mr. Craven and Sir Robert about a shipping company I’m involved in. Very dry conversation, I’m afraid.”

Lady Georgina scowled at him, no doubt angry that he’d circumvented her plan to embarrass her sister. Lady Miranda gave him a grateful smile for rescuing her.

He wished he were noble enough that saving Lady Miranda from potential embarrassment had been enough to motivate him, but the lady’s honor had been a distant second thought in his mind. No, if he were honest, his goal had everything to do with getting under the skin of said lady’s younger sister. Hammering at Lady Georgina’s carefully constructed shell was too entertaining to pass up.

Admittedly, his actions toward the young lady were far from charitable, but did Georgina really deserve his charity? He’d rather reserve that for people in truly dire circumstances, not spoiled misses who didn’t get the dancing partner they wanted.

He gave Lady Miranda a wink, further irking Lady Georgina.

Lady Miranda smiled and said, “I’m afraid I know nothing of shipping.” The names he provided must have reminded her of past dealings, because Lady Miranda turned to the other gentlemen with a confident smile. “Mr. Craven, how is your sister? She married last year?”

The man with the thinning hair beamed. “Yes, she did. Doing splendidly. I hear from her occasionally.” After an uncomfortable beat of silence, Mr. Craven turned to his companion. “Sir Robert, do you fancy a game of faro? I believe they are starting one in the library.”

Colin held back a sigh as he watched the other men depart. They’d become accustomed to being ignored at these gatherings,
and anyone of higher rank intimidated them, particularly the women.

Why did they come to these events in the first place if they weren’t going to take full advantage of the opportunities presented?

Not that either of these ladies presented much of an opportunity. The majority of ladies in attendance weren’t potential marriage partners, but that was one of the things that had to be endured for success.

And Colin needed success. Success brought money, and money brought the ability to help others and secure a future for his family. Most of the time that was enough.

He smiled at the sisters. “I suppose that leaves me to entertain two lovely ladies. Might I retrieve you a bit of refreshment? Or procure you a seat at a table?”

“No, thank you.” Lady Georgina’s graceful shell was back in place. She almost sounded civil. “I see someone I must speak with. Pardon me.”

Colin held in a laugh as she turned and walked through the door. She must have the ability to see through walls if she saw someone in the other room to speak to.

His suppressed laughter made his smile a bit too big as he looked at Lady Miranda. “Do you need to speak with them as well?”

She smiled in return. “I believe I am good where I am, thank you.”

Colin almost nodded in approval. “I am pleased to finally meet you.”

“Finally, Mr. McCrae?”

Colin leaned into the corner, forcing her to turn her back to a good portion of the room and the numerous people who she would no doubt find more interesting than him. He might never get a chance to get to know her again, and if Ryland was making a mistake, Colin would rather know it now than after the wedding.

Not that he could change Ryland’s mind. Colin’s powers of persuasion weren’t quite that good. “I’ve heard about you.”

“All good things, I hope.” Her smile wasn’t as perfect as Lady
Georgina’s, but it held an air of authenticity the Duchess of Ice had never possessed.

“But of course.”

“Hmmm.” Skepticism danced across her face, but she didn’t challenge him. “Have you sat down to a game of whist yet this evening?”

“Sadly, no, I’m afraid I’ve been too deep in discussions since I arrived. Should we find a table and sit down to a game?” He started to offer her his arm, but a shadow falling across the wall beside him stopped his movement. He turned to see Ryland had appeared, crossing the room with his usual stealth. What was he doing here? And sporting a glorious discoloration around one eye, no less. Colin made a mental note to never spar with Lord Trent.

Lady Miranda and Ryland greeted each other—her with veiled hostility, and him with bored austerity designed to irk her further.