A Scandalous Countess: A Novel of the Malloren World (15 page)

An idea began to stir.

“Is he very uncouth?” Winnie asked.

Georgia said, “No,” for that did seem unfair, even if he had manhandled her without permission. “But he has a bit of the salt air and rigging about him, and seems to want only to be walking his fields and mucking out his stables.”

“Then if he attends, I pray he cleans his boots!”

Georgia laughed and made her farewells, but as she returned to her room she wondered if Winifred hadn’t been serious.

As for her idea…She considered it carefully and then went to her mother’s bedchamber.

She found her mother writing letters, which seemed to be her main occupation here, nearly all to Georgia’s father, who sent missives back many times a day. Georgia was realizing that her mother was more active in politics than she’d imagined, and might even be the steady hand behind her father’s irascible temper.

Where was the reverence there?

If her mother’s counsel was important, however, why was she lingering at Thretford?

To keep an eye on her wayward daughter?

She dipped a curtsy. “Mother, do you think it safe for me to travel into Town one day soon? I could go by river.”

Her mother continued to write. “There’s no need.”

“Lord Dracy,” Georgia said.

Her mother did look at her then, slightly alarmed.

Georgia laughed. “What are you imagining, Mother? That I’m enamored of him? I’ve just learned he’s in Town and invited to the ball. I thought he’d returned to Devon.”

“I believe he did so, but if you say he’s returned…”

“I’m only going by the invitation. I wonder if he has suitable clothing, if his bow is elegant and his dancing up to snuff. I was asked to assist him,” she reminded.

“Ah, yes…He could be summoned here.”

“That won’t provide him with finery.”

“And you wish to visit some establishments yourself,” her mother said. “This is as much for your improvement as his.” She considered, however, as if it were a weighty matter of state. “We certainly don’t want Lord Dracy embarrassed.”

“Certainly not.”

“Very well.” Georgia’s triumph was soured when her mother added, “I shall come with you.”

“You wish to supervise Dracy’s polishing, Mother?”

Her mother looked as if Georgia had suggested a swim in the Thames. “I wish to talk to your father. There’s only so much that can be put in writing. As we’ll go our separate ways, you’ll need your maid to accompany you, and a footman. Unless,” she added, “Dracy will be able to meet the boat and escort you.”

Georgia hesitated on that. She’d grasped an excuse to get to Town without truly thinking of the consequences. A brief encounter with Dracy to advise was one thing. Having him as escort for hours was quite another.

“You’ve
taken him in dislike, daughter? He offended you with his rough ways?”

Georgia had to say no to that, and she was ashamed of her reaction to his appearance.

“I won’t mind the escort of a footman if Dracy is otherwise engaged.”

“I shall write and ask.” Lady Hernescroft took a new sheet of paper and wrote a line. But then she gave Georgia a look. “You are not to go jaunting about.”

“Of course not.”

“I’ll have your word on it.”

“Mother! Why would I?”

“I have no idea. I just know your ways.”

“I’m fully aware that my behavior must be above suspicion, and I certainly have no desire to become entangled with a mob, or to venture into dubious areas.”

“I should think not, but…” Georgia feared her mother was about to cancel the expedition, but she said, “I pray Dracy is free to be your escort. He’ll not allow your games, and with your maid to preserve the proprieties, no one can spin scandal out of it.”

Georgia didn’t like the reminder that some people might still try to spin scandal out of nothing, but she wouldn’t give up a chance of Town.

“I’ll have someone check the tides and hire a boat, then,” she said. “For tomorrow?”

“If that fits with Lord Dracy’s commitments. We should hear back from him in a few hours.” Lady Hernescroft dipped her pen and wrote some more. “And I’ll summon the family barge here. A boat, indeed.” She looked up. “If Dracy’s wardrobe proves inadequate, take him to Pargeter’s.”

“Pargeter’s! I’ve always wanted to see the fine garments gentlemen cast away.”

“You might consider casting some of yours to the ladies’ equivalent.”

“And
meet one of my unique gowns at an event? How embarrassing for all.”

“I believe they generally alter them sufficiently.” Her mother signed her letter and sanded the ink.

“That wouldn’t work with my most notable creations, Mother. In any case, I intend to wear some of them again.”

Lady Hernescroft paused to stare. “Not the goddess costume, I hope.”

Georgia immediately wanted to wear it, perhaps even for Winnie’s ball, but she could recognize insanity. “No, not that one, Mother.”

The peacock, however…

“You’ve given up all notion of new gowns?”

“What choice do I have? My pin money won’t allow for it, and I won’t attempt to refurbish a gown in the hope no one will recognize it.”

“Your strength is both a blessing and a curse, Georgia. I can only pray that heaven wins.” She folded and sealed the letter, then handed it over. “Have this sent.”

Georgia took it and left, bemused by her mother’s comment. How had talk of gowns led to talk of heaven and hell? In any case, gowns were more to the point.

She gave the letter to a footman and then hurried back to her room. “Jane, you must find the peacock gown. I will wear it to the ball.”

“You were going to wear that sprigged primrose, milady.”

“Which I’d never worn because it was too demure.”

“Demure is what you need, milady, and everyone will remember the peacock from last year.”

“That’s the point. I said I was going to return as Lady May in all her glory, and that isn’t sprigged primrose! The peacock gown is perfect, and the whole beau monde will remember it. And, Jane, we’re going to Town! Tomorrow! Just for the day this time, but we’re going to
Town. We can visit your sister and learn all about the latest fashions.”

“That’ll be grand, milady,” Jane said, beaming as widely as Georgia as she left on a peacock hunt.

Georgia did a little victory dance and then hugged herself for pure delight.

Jane’s sister Mary Gifford was her mantua maker. She’d been a simple dressmaker, but Jane had urged Georgia to commission her to create a winter gown of green velvet. She’d done that so well that she now made all Georgia’s gowns and also worked for a select few other ladies, making her much sought after and able to charge high prices.

The peacock gown had been her tour de force. The gown was made of clear dark silk embroidered on the front to look like iridescent feathers, but its finest feature was the saque back, embellished to look like a furled peacock tail.

Then there was the
embrun de mer
, constructed of layers of fine voile in shades of green—hence the name “sea spray”—that was swathed around the bodice instead of fitted to the solid base of the stays, as with most gowns. It had a casual, almost transparent effect even when worn over stays and petticoat.

Mary and Jane had both been uncertain about the goddess costume, but she’d insisted and it had been the star of the Olympian Revels two years ago. She’d portrayed Aphrodite in a classical robe, but one draped to leave her upper body mostly naked—or so it had seemed. In fact, she’d been covered to the neck in flesh-colored cloth. Such fun, and Dickon had been so proud of her.

Of course, people threw it up now as if she truly had been naked. She was going to have to be demure, for a while, anyway, but at least she was to visit Town. And soon she’d enjoy her first ball in a year and dance in her peacock gown.

As for Lord Dracy, she resolved not to let a trace of her unease about his disfigurement show. He’d been wounded in the service of his king and country and deserved all honor and kindness. Especially when he’d provided an excellent excuse for a visit to Town.

Chapter 9

D
racy stood beneath the stone arch of the York Stairs, watching Lady Maybury approach, aware of a heart that beat too fast for the situation. A few weeks in the sanity of the countryside hadn’t restored his mind at all. She’d haunted his dreams, and even in the day he’d fallen into trying to imagine her as his wife, in his home.

Ridiculous, but he’d repaired the roof with her in mind, and even had the window repaired in the drawing room. That could have waited, but a drawing room was the lady’s domain.

And here she came, a different woman from the one in his memories, and even less fitting for his dreams.

Her broad straw hat was trimmed with pink ribbons and flowers, and her hoop-spread gown was made of a pink-striped material. A bold choice with her loose copper hair. Moreover, she and her mother were arriving not in a common Thames wherry, but in a gilded barge rowed by six liveried men, two powdered footmen in attendance, and the Earl of Hernescroft’s escutcheon on the side.

She inhabited a different world from his, and he’d best remember it.

He descended the stairs to meet the boat, but slowly, so that Lady Hernescroft had already taken a footman’s
hand to step out of the barge and he could offer his hand to Circe.

That open, sparkling smile hadn’t been imagined. “Neatly done, Dracy. I see hope for you yet.”

“Hope, Lady Maybury?”

“Of your social agility.” She paused so her maid could fluff her skirts back into place. “I was surprised to learn you were in Town.”

“Suffering in the cause. Let’s haste away from the stinking river to the slightly less stinking streets.” He bowed to her mother. “Your chairs await, Lady Hernescroft.”

Lady Hernescroft did not demand his escort but swept ahead on the arm of the footman. Delightful to have a lady’s mother as ally.

The waiting sedan chairs were plain, but they too were not common ones, available for hire. They were Hernescroft ones, and the armed chairmen were in the earl’s employ. Perhaps the family also had gilded, escutcheoned ones, but in the present climate with the people restless in hard times, the aristocracy did not draw attention to themselves on the London streets.

The ladies sat inside, the doors were closed, and the party set off with Lady Maybury’s maid and one footman walking behind. Dracy chose to walk by the side of Lady Maybury’s chair, even though he couldn’t see above her chin. Probably as well. His heart was still unsteady from a brief exchange and a smile.

They soon arrived at Hernescroft House, where the chairmen carried them into the safety of the house and set down the chairs in the grand hall.

When Dracy handed Georgia out, she asked, “Is something amiss?”

“Perhaps I’m awed by my surroundings.”

She looked around at the portraits on the paneled walls. “Ranks of disapproving ancestors. They certainly awe me.”

“You’ve
always felt that way?”

“I’ve only visited here a few times,” she said.

“Why?”

“I married at sixteen, remember? What cause had there been for me to come to Town before then? We all came for the coronation.”

“How old were you?” he asked, thinking that with her bright eyes and tumbling hair, she looked a girl still.

“Just sixteen and longing to do more than watch processions and illuminations. Of course, not long after that I married, and soon my husband reached his majority and we removed here to enjoy delights to the full.”

“I shall spend my time in Town with Hernescroft,” Georgia’s mother interjected.

Dracy started. He’d forgotten Lady Hernescroft entirely. Detecting a smirk, he wanted to point out how little hope there was.