Rogue Grooms (6 page)

“Do you miss your home in Italy very much, Mrs. Beaumont?” he asked quietly.

Georgina smiled at him. “Dreadfully.”

“Will you tell me about it? I have been to Spain, and France, and Belgium, but never to Italy.”

“Are you certain you wish me to speak of it? Once begun, I often cannot stop!”

“I am certain. Tell me, please.”

“Well, I have two homes in Italy. One is a small villa at Lake Como, which I purchased after my second husband passed away. It is quite old, sixteenth century, and something is always falling to bits. The plasterer has to be called in almost every year!” Yet even as she complained, her face lit with a small smile.

“Were there no more modern houses available in the area?”

“Oh, yes, certainly. But this particular one boasts a very fine fresco in the room I use as a dining room, a lovely work of a classical party group eating grapes and dancing. There is also a very good view from the terrace, where I often have luncheon parties when the weather is especially fine. And there are endless vistas for sketching!”

She paused to sip at her champagne, and Alex did the same. He turned her words over in his mind; they had conjured for him a vision of not only a beautiful place, but of a life lived beautifully, with friends and parties and endless vistas of loveliness.

He so envied her in that moment.

He drained his glass, and said, “What is your second home?”

“That is my city home, in Venice. A very small place, also very old and crumbling, but not without its own charms! Elizabeth and her husband have purchased a house just across the canal, and they visit me there in the winter.”

“I am truly jealous, Mrs. Beaumont.”

She laughed brightly. “Jealous, Lord Wayland? Of me? Why, you are a duke! Surely you possess far finer properties than my small homes.”

Alex thought wryly of the large town house, and the hunting box in Scotland, both lost to his brother’s profligacy. “I think what I am jealous of is your freedom. It is obvious that you love your life, that you love what you do.”

Georgina tilted her head, gazing up at him quizzically. “I do. I think there is nothing more wonderful in life than to have a blank canvas before me and a paintbrush in hand, with an Italian scene to paint. And I have the best of friends, who share that passion. But what is there in your own life, Lord Wayland, that you would wish different? What would you wish to put in its stead?”

He looked down at her, standing there beside him in the moonlight. A tiny frown of concern pleated her ivory brow. He wanted, more than anything he had ever wanted before, to kiss her. He wanted to kiss away that frown, to hold her against him, and lose all his troubles in her warmth and happiness.

He even lifted his hand a tiny bit toward her, but he was saved from his own folly by Elizabeth’s voice calling to them from the open terrace doors.

“There you two are!” she said. “The last dance is about to begin, and then of course there shall be a mad dash for supper. You would not wish to miss Lady Beaton’s lobster patties.”

Alex’s hand fell back to his side.

Georgina laughed, and placed her empty glass on the balustrade. “Certainly not! I have heard such glorious things about those lobster patties.”

“As have I.” Alex held out his arm to her. “Shall we?”

Her hand was as light as a bird on his sleeve. “Thank you, Lord Wayland!”

As they reentered the ballroom, Alex at last caught a glimpse of Hildebrand and Freddie, just as they were departing. They saw him, and sent him laughing little waves before they left, their heads together as they whispered gleefully.

“Was that not your friends? Mr. Marlow and Viscount Garrick?” said Georgina. “Do you not wish to go after them and bid them good evening? I could save you a seat in the dining room.”

Alex took one last glance at Hildebrand and Freddie’s departing figures, then shook his head. “Anything I have to say to them can certainly wait until tomorrow. The lobster patties, however, cannot wait.”

“Was the ball last night not a crush? I vow all the
ton
must have been there,” Elizabeth sighed.

It was very nearly noon, but they were only just beginning their morning toast and chocolate in the breakfast room. All the morning papers were spread across the table, as they perused them for mention of their names and descriptions of various gowns and
on dits.

“Hm, quite,” Georgina replied as she spread marmalade on her toast, almost dragging the ribbons of her morning gown through the stickiness. She was not yet entirely
awake,
though she did notice, with much gratification, that they were mentioned several times in papers. “Even that funny old Lady Collins was there.”

“And everyone seemed quite interested in your handsome escort!”

“Our
escort, Lizzie!” Georgina protested. “Did Lord Wayland not escort both of us to the ball?”

“Well, yes, of course. Most proper. But anyone could see it was
you
he was there for, you he was interested in. How could he not be? Every young buck in Town is at your feet.”

“Lord Wayland is hardly a young buck. He is quite the most distinguished gentleman I have met this Season.”

“Oh, yes. Quite.” Elizabeth grinned mischievously. “Perhaps even the most distinguished gentleman you have seen in—years? I know I have not seen anyone so distinguished.”

“Are your husband and brother not so, Lizzie?”

“I love Nick with all my heart, and in my eyes he is the finest man in the world. Yet
distinguished
is not the first word that springs to mind when one thinks of him. Peter, of course, is quite distinguished in his own fashion, and is much less formidable since Carmen and Isabella came into his life.” Elizabeth frowned in thought. “But Lord Wayland has an openness and amiability that I fear my dear brother often lacks. His manners were very charming, as I’m sure you must agree, Georgie.”

“Yes,” Georgina murmured. She stared down into her half-empty cup of chocolate. “Very charming. You are right in saying that it has been a long time since I have met such an amiable man.”

“Not since—Jack?” Elizabeth suggested gently.

“Lizzie!” Georgina protested. “Jack has been gone for almost ten years. I have met many men since then. I even married two of them.”

“Old men you married out of desperation and pity,” Elizabeth argued. “Have you never thought of marrying again for affection or even love?”

Georgina laughed. “My dear friend, it is good of you to try to matchmake for me! But I only met Lord Wayland yesterday, and here you have us wildly in love and off to Gretna Green.”

“Not Gretna Green! St. George’s, Hanover Square.”

“Lizzie...”

“Oh, all right! I won’t say another word. But, Georgina, I do only want your happiness.”

“I
am
happy! I have everything I have ever wanted. I have my work, independence, wonderful friends, and a lovely home. I am quite content.”

“All those things are delightful, Georgie, as I well know. My own work is so vital to me. Yet a good marriage can make all those things even more splendid; it can make life complete!”

Georgina shook her head. “
Good
marriages are few and far between. I have ample proof from the horrid things my clients have told me of their husbands, as they sit for portraits.”

“I, too, hear dreadful things. Not every marriage, though, is like that. Nick and I are very happy, as are Peter and Carmen. You and Jack...”

“Marriages like those are rare. I had my one love. And I will never give up any portion of my delicious freedom for anything less!”

“No,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Of course you will not. You
should
not.”

“Excellent. Then, may we cease to discuss my matrimonial prospects, and decide what we want to do this afternoon?”

“We must plan my
salon,
of course! It is to be
next
Friday, and I have not begun a thing. But first, will you tell me one thing, Georgie?”

“What is that?” Georgina asked warily.

“Will you at least see Lord Wayland again?”

“Oh, yes. In fact, he is calling at four to take me driving in the park.”

Elizabeth caught up the folded copy of the
Gazette
and tossed it at Georgina’s laughing head. “Horrid girl! Not to tell me,
me
, your bosom bow, and let me rattle along like that!”

“Oh, Lizzie!” Georgina giggled. “I am sorry to keep it to myself. You just looked so very earnest and dear, arguing for matrimonial bliss.”

“Hmph.” Elizabeth looked over at Lady Kate, who was perched in the window seat, waiting for the day’s excitement to begin. “Do you see how shabbily we are treated, Lady Kate? After all our good attempts to assist!”

“Lizzie! I will cry peace. I will keep you informed of all my social engagements from now on. Now, I have something very important I should like your advice on.”

“Oh, yes? What is that?”

“What should I wear on this drive?”

 

Georgina studied the array of garments laid out across her bed, all of them neat and fashionable muslins and silks in every color of the rainbow. She held up first one then another in front of her, twisting about before the mirror.

“What I really need is something new,” she mused as she tossed another rejected gown onto the pile. “Something stunningly original!”

Except that a
modiste
would take at least a week to fashion something “stunningly original,” and Lord Wayland would be calling for her in an hour. And Georgina was already possessed of a wardrobe that was original, and overly vast to boot.

She flopped down before her dressing table. “Why am I being as fidgety as a schoolgirl?” she asked Lady Kate, who was peering out from beneath the hillock of frocks.

The dog’s ears perked up, and she tilted her head as if considering.

“I am thirty years old,” Georgina continued. “This is hardly the first time I have gone driving in the park with a handsome gentleman. And I have never thought twice about what to wear before!”

Lady Kate whined.

“Yes, quite! I suppose Lizzie has a point. There must be something unusual about this Wayland. Something—special.”

Lady Kate barked.

“Exactly! Therefore, I must spend more time with him. Either he shall prove himself to be no different from any other charming man of my acquaintance, or he will show what it is that makes him so special.”

Lady Kate’s tail wagged vigorously.

Georgina knelt down beside the bed to receive a doggie kiss on the nose. “You are the best conversationalist I have ever met, Lady Kate. Most understanding. Best of all, I know you will never tell anyone of my cabbage-headed behavior today! Will you?”

Lady Kate sighed.

 

“You are not going to wear
that
coat, are you?” Hildebrand said, around a mouthful of Alex’s leftover luncheon beefsteak.

Alex look down at his completely respectable, as he had thought, green coat. “What is wrong with it?”

“My dear fellow, what is
not
wrong with it?”

“The color is bilious,” offered Freddie.

“The cut all wrong through the shoulders,” said Hildebrand.

“And the length... !” sighed Freddie.

“Oh, very well!” Alex tore off the offending coat and tossed it onto a chair. “What do you suggest I wear in its place?”

“Where are you going?” asked Hildebrand.

“Not that it is any of your business, pup, but I am going driving in the park.”

“Alone?”

“With a lady,” Alex growled.

Hildebrand and Freddie glanced at each other speculatively. “Mrs. Beaumont!” they cried.

“My dear fellow,” clucked Hildebrand. “You cannot escort such a dashing lady dressed like a country curate. Where are your other coats?”

“There.” Alex pointed at an abandoned pile on the carpet.

Hildebrand left his steak and went to poke at the pile with the toe of his boot. “Do you mean to say that you tried on every coat you own, and that that green
thing
was the best you could find?”

Alex’s jaw was taut. “Yes,” he answered shortly.

Hildebrand clucked in dismay. “Wayland! You must hie to Weston immediately, at once!”

“Hildebrand. Even if I could fly out the door and land at Weston’s doorstep, it would not help me this afternoon. I am due to call on Mrs. Beaumont in less than an hour.”

“If only he could still wear his regimentals!” Freddie lamented. “Ladies find them demmed attractive.”

“If only. It looks as if you’ve had these shabby bits since before you bought your commission, Wayland!”

“I have. Most of them,” Alex said.

Hildebrand shook his head. Then he plucked up the blue coat from the top of the pile. “Wear this one, then. The color at least is good, and it looked fine the other day. Then tomorrow, Freddie and I will take you to the tailors ourselves.”

“Yes,” said Freddie. “Can’t be shabby if you’re going to dangle after an heiress.”

Alex froze in the act of shrugging into the blue coat, and turned a glare onto the hapless Freddie. “I am not
dangling
after anyone. I am merely going for a drive in the park with a lady.”

“Of course, of course,” Freddie stammered. “N-no insult meant, Wayland. None at all.”

Hildebrand turned Alex toward the door, away from the hapless Freddie. “Well, Wayland, you should be going! You will be late, and ladies do not like us to be late. Do they, Freddie?”

Freddie took a gulp from his wineglass. “Not at all!”

Alex glanced at his watch, and saw that he was indeed about to be late. He gathered up his hat and gloves, and turned one more stem glance onto his friends. “Very well. Just try not to drink
all
my wine while I am gone.”