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Authors: Amanda McCabe

BOOK: Rogue Grooms
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“I had a very nice time,” Georgina said, accepting Alex’s hand as he assisted her from the curricle. “I never would have thought I could say that about a sedate drive through the park at the crowded hour, but so it was!”
Alex’s hand lingered on her own for one long, warm, sweet moment. Then he stepped away. “I, too, enjoyed the afternoon.”
“Will you not come inside to say hello to Elizabeth?” Georgina stepped around to pat Scylla’s and Charybdis’s noses in farewell.
“I fear I have kept you quite late, and you will be wanting to prepare for your evening.”
“Oh, we are having a quiet evening at home. Elizabeth was rather tired from her exertions at the ball last night, and I insisted she rest.”
“Yes.” Alex hesitated, then said, “Forgive my boldness, Georgina, but is your friend quite well?”
“Well? She is, er, in a delicate way.”
Alex blushed just a bit, which Georgina again found so charming. “I
had
perceived that! But I mean, is she having a difficult time of it? She seemed pale last night, and a trifle short of breath.”
Georgina frowned. “I confess I have been rather concerned. She tries to pretend that everything is the same as ever it was, but it is not. She is so tired, where before she never was.”
“My old nursemaid, who is now retired to a cottage on my family’s estate, saw my mother very ably through four difficult confinements, and only one of the babes was lost. She has a great knowledge of herbs and cures. If you like, I could give you her direction and you could write to her. I am certain she would love to share her knowledge with you.”
Georgina felt the prickle of incipient tears. She blinked very hard, and turned to bend her head over Scylla’s neck. Never had she been so touched by a man’s thoughtfulness. How many men of her acquaintance would be so concerned over the health of a strange woman and that of her unborn child? Concerned enough even to speak of the indelicate.
None would be. None but this man.
“That is so kind of you, Alex,” she said softly. “So very kind! Elizabeth is my dearest friend, really almost my sister. I will do everything I can to help her.”
“Yes. Of course. Well.” Alex coughed, and shifted his feet uncomfortably.
Georgina almost smiled at that adorable discomfiture.
“Perhaps,” he continued, “if Lady Elizabeth is feeling well tomorrow, you and she, and Lady Kate and Lady Isabella, would care to take a picnic to the country? I am sure my friends Marlow and Garrick would accompany us. Fresh air and sunshine would probably be beneficial to Lady Elizabeth.”
“I am sure it would!” Georgina cried. “That would be most pleasant. I will speak with Elizabeth, but I know we have no fixed engagements tomorrow.”
“Then, we shall call for you at noon.” Alex took her hand, and raised it to his lips. “Until then, Georgina.”
“Yes. Good day, Alex.”
Georgina watched him until his curricle turned a corner, out of her sight. Only then did she go inside the house, her hand curled carefully around that kiss.
“Georgie!” Elizabeth called through the open drawing room door. “Is that you?”
“Yes, it is me.” Georgina left her gloves and bonnet on a table in the foyer, and went into the drawing room.
Elizabeth was ensconced on a chaise before the fire, a blanket tucked about her and a book open on her lap. Dark purple smudges still shadowed her gray eyes, but she seemed a trifle less pale.
“How are you feeling, dear?” Georgina sat down next to Lady Kate in a deep armchair across from Elizabeth.
“Oh, much more the thing! I had some tea and biscuits earlier, after I settled some points about my
salon,
and Lady Kate and I have been having a coze. I even think I might enjoy a bit of trout for supper!”
“Lizzie. I know I have said it before, but I must say it again. You should go to the country, to Evanstone Park, and rest.”
“Georgina!” Elizabeth laughed. “Don’t fuss so, dear. If I do feel worse, I will go to Evanstone and wait for the baby to make its appearance. For now, though, I am quite well. I want to stay here in Town, and enjoy myself with you and our friends, just for a bit longer.”
“If you are quite sure...” Georgina said uncertainly.
“I am sure! Now, enough about me. I want to hear all about your afternoon with the handsome Lord Wayland.”
Georgina settled back in her chair with a blissful sigh, the golden afternoon still warm around her. “It was delightful! Lord Wayland is such a fine man, so very kind. He was all that is amiable. He even offered to let me drive his cattle, which are quite fine.” Georgina paused, stroking Lady Kate’s soft fur thoughtfully. “I do think, Lizzie, that perhaps Lord Wayland—or Alex, as he asked me to call him—is not
all
that he shows to the world.”
Elizabeth looked up, surprised. “Whatever do you mean, Georgie? Not all that he shows?”
“Oh, I do not mean that he hides dire vices behind a pretty facade! Far from it. I suppose I should have said he is
more
,” Georgina mused.
“Well, I would not wonder at it!” said Elizabeth. “His family must be quite in a stew still.”
“How do you mean? What do you know about the Kentons, Lizzie?”
“Only gossip, really. If I knew anything ill of Lord Wayland, I would have told you straight away. But Nick knew Damian Kenton, Alex’s brother, slightly, during his old raking days before our marriage.”
“The late duke? I have heard so many rumors about him. What was he really like?”
Georgina and Elizabeth leaned their heads together in avid interest.
“A bad ’un,” whispered Elizabeth. “Always gambling, whoring; he lost huge amounts, without a thought for his family.”
“Hm, yes. Alex said something about his brother’s gambling.”
“Yes. But this present duke, I think, is not much like his brother,” Elizabeth suggested. “Would you not say so, Georgie?”
Georgina smiled. “Oh, yes. I would definitely say so.”
“Then, you will see him again?”
“He has asked us all—you, me, Lady Kate, and Isabella—on a picnic tomorrow. Do you think you feel well enough?”
“Of course! The fresh air will do wonders for me, and the baby. I quite look forward to it!”
“Good. So do I.”
Georgina lay awake long into the night, turning Elizabeth’s words about Alex’s family over in her mind.
So Damian Kenton had been a wastrel, just as she suspected. Racketing about Town, losing money, while his mother and sister sat in the country, and his younger brother fought for his country in Spain and at Waterloo.
Perhaps that, then, was a part of the secret solemnity in Alex’s so-blue eyes. Perhaps he felt guilt that his family had been in such straits when he was too far away to help them. Helpless to shield them from his brother’s excesses.
How well Georgina knew that feeling! Helpless guilt had been her companion throughout her childhood.
She rolled onto her side, to watch the bar of moonlight that fell from her window across the carpet. There was also one other, small thought that bothered her.
If Damian Kenton had been such a terrible spend-thrift, what was the condition of the Kenton fortunes now?
Not that she cared a great deal for such things. She had lived in genteel poverty for much of her early life, and she knew very well that honesty and humor were to be valued above gold. Money was merely something that—facilitated life.
But now she was wealthy. She could sense that Alex was a proud man, and if he was in dire straits, he could find the idea of a friendship with her to be made awkward by vulgar lucre. Or, even worse, he could find friendship with her sweetened by her money.
And Georgina would not care for that at all!
Chapter Eight
“Georgie, do you think these flowers look better here, or over on that table?”
Georgina tilted her head, examining the large vase of pink and white roses. “They look lovely in either place.”
Elizabeth sighed in exasperation. “That is not very much help! The guests will be arriving in an hour, or less, and I cannot even situate the decorations. At least the refreshments are prepared and laid out.” She glanced toward the open doors of the dining room, where a sumptuous repast was spread. “Perhaps the crab cakes would have been better than the mushroom tarts?”
“The mushroom tarts are delicious!” Georgina paused before a mirror, and straightened the amber combs in her hair. She smoothed the bodice of her saffron-gold gown. Was it just a trifle
too
low-cut? Would Alex like it?
She giggled, and tugged the satin bodice just a bit lower.
“Georgina, you are not attending!” Elizabeth cried.
“Of course I am,” Georgina answered. “Why are you so very worried? You have given many routs before, Lizzie.”
“This is my first
salon,
and I want it to be a great success. I want people clamoring for invitations to my Friday evenings!” Elizabeth picked up the vase and moved it to the other table. “Here, I think.”
“It was so very charming over there, though,” a masculine voice drawled.
Elizabeth whirled around in a flurry of sapphire silk skirts. “Nicholas!” she cried, and ran across the room to fling herself into her husband’s arms. “You are here at last! I thought surely you would never arrive in time.”
Nicholas kissed her, and held her close against him. “I’m sorry, my love. We had a broken wheel on the road. But I swore to you I would not miss your
salon,
and here I am.” He smiled at Georgina. “Hullo, Georgie! You are stunning, as always.”
“Thank you, Nick. I am very glad you are here; you can persuade your wife to cease rushing about and sit down, before her ankles swell.”
“My ankles are
not
swollen!” Elizabeth protested. But she did sit down, and propped her slippered feet up on an embroidered footstool. “How did you find Evanstone Park, my love? Not too much damaged, I hope.”
“Nothing that couldn’t be repaired. The storm did a nasty job on the roof over the east wing, though.” Nicholas poured himself a measure of brandy from the array laid out for the party, and sat down next to his wife. “What have you two been up to while I’ve been away?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary way,” said Elizabeth. “We went on a delightful picnic yesterday, and attended the Beaton ball last week. A terrible crush, as always.”
“I hope that you have been resting enough, Lizzie,” Nicholas said sternly.
“Of course I have!” Then Elizabeth grinned mischievously. “And Georgina has a new admirer.”
“Another one?” Nicholas laughed. “Georgie, you really ought to leave
someone
for the other ladies.”
“I hardly have
every
man in London at my feet!” Georgina protested.
“Oh. Only half, then?” asked Nicholas.
“No! And he is not my
admirer,
Lizzie.”
“Of course not. He is just here every day, escorting you to balls, and on picnics and drives. Sending flowers ...”
“He is being kind. He has been away from England for so long; he doesn’t know anyone else yet.”
“That is not it at all, and you know it!” said Elizabeth. “He obviously likes you. He probably wants to marry you.”
“No!” said Georgina firmly. “I am hardly suitable.”
“You are the most suitable! He could do no better. I think that he ...”
“Ladies, please!” Nicholas interrupted. “Who is this new admirer that has the two most unflappable women I know in such an uproar?”
“Alexander Kenton,” said Georgina. “The new Duke of Wayland.”
Nicholas’s dark brows shot up. “Hotspur Kenton?”
“You know him?” Georgina asked hopefully.
“I knew
of
him, in Spain. Everyone knew of Colonel Kenton of the Sixteenth. He was absolutely fearless, but an excellent leader; never asked his men to do anything he wouldn’t do himself. I had heard that Damian had finally stuck his spoon in the wall.” He grinned at Georgina. “So he is your new suitor, Georgie? Should I have a talk with him, find out his intentions?”
Before Georgina could respond to this bit of nonsense, the knocker at the front door sounded, and Elizabeth jumped out of her chair.
“The guests are arriving!” she cried. “Does everything look quite all right?”
“Perfect, darling,” said Nicholas. “Now, I will go upstairs and change my clothes before I disgrace you.” He paused to kiss Georgina’s cheek. “See you later, Duchess.”
Georgina smacked him on the shoulder.
 
The
salon
was proving to be a rousing success.
Painters, poets, musicians, patrons of the arts, and even politicians stood in groups large and small across the drawing room. They spilled out onto the small terrace, and flowed into the dining room where the refreshments beckoned. The mushroom tarts were consumed; the champagne was drunk; the harp and the pianoforte were played. Elizabeth was glowing with pleasure at her success, and the two paintings of Georgina’s that were displayed were greatly admired.

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