To Win the Lady (12 page)

He gave a snort
of a laugh. ‘Yes, and not even his. He was standing buff for that young pup of
a friend of his who played too deep.’

‘Captain
Melford?’

‘Yes.’

She didn’t know
if she admired the Major more or less because of this; that he had stood by his
friend was certainly in his favour, but the horse had still been gambled away.
‘Why don’t you like Major Baverstock, my lord?’

‘Did I say I
did not like him? I do not like a bad loser calling me a cheat, that is what I
do not like.’ He sighed and smiled across at her. ‘But let us not talk of him.
What do you think of Silver Moon?’

She could
understand the Major not liking to part with his stallion but it was his own
fault for gambling. Even so, she could not imagine him being a bad loser.
Calling someone a cheat usually meant that you had to substantiate your
accusation or be called out. She remembered his lordship saying ‘name the time
and place’; did that mean there was to be a duel? It would be a most uneven
match, unless his lordship had hidden talents. She looked across at him; he was
smiling at her with that hard mouth of his, waiting for her answer. She reached
forward and fondled the ears of the Arab. ‘Is that her name? She is beautiful.’

‘Her dam was
one of Sir Henry’s.’

‘Then she is
bound to be good.’

‘She could be
yours.’

Startled, she
looked at him. ‘My lord?’

‘As a gift.’

‘My lord, I
have horses in plenty at Rowan Park.’

‘But for how
long? You cannot continue to run the stables yourself, can you?’

‘I do not see
why not.’

‘Oh, I see,’ he
said, his smile widening. ‘You have had no offers.’

His assumption
annoyed her. ‘Do you mean for me or for the business?’ she asked mischievously.

‘Why, my dear,’
he said, with an attempt at gallantry which set her teeth on edge but which she
acknowledged she had asked for, ‘I have no doubt someone as comely as you has
had offers a-plenty, but I meant for the stud-farm.’

‘Some, but I
have refused them all.’

‘Why? Because
the offers were too low or because the horses are your dowry?’

‘Because they
are my life, my lord. I wish for no other.’

‘Come, come,
that cannot be. Every young lady wishes to marry, but in your case you should
choose carefully. You need someone who understands horses, who will improve the
stock with his own, someone who will allow you a certain amount of liberty...’

She looked at
him sharply. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Yours is a
free spirit, Miss Paget; it should not be caged in a drawing-room. I understand
that.’

‘My lord, I do
not think you do,’ she said. ‘I am as good a horse-breeder as you will find
anywhere and neither Rowan Park nor the horses are for sale.’ She laughed
suddenly. ‘Nor, indeed, am I.’ And with that she urged Silver Moon into a
canter to put an end to the conversation. He followed and a few minutes later
they turned to go back without another word being said.

She did not
like him any better at the end of the outing than she had at the beginning, but
her aunt, when she recounted the conversation to her, urged her to give him
time. ‘What he said makes a great deal of sense,’ she pointed out. ‘The
stud-farm is all you have to offer and do not forget it has to provide
Felicity’s portion as well as yours. A union of his stables with yours might be
just the answer. His stock is good, I believe, and with his name the business
would soon pick up. I will invite him to my ball and you can stand up with him.
Perhaps in a different setting, with music and fine food, he will reveal
himself as a man of sensibility.’

‘I doubt it,’
Georgie said.

‘Nevertheless
we must make sure you look your best; we can’t have him thinking he is offering
for a dowd.’

‘I thought it
was Felicity we were concerned with, not me.’

‘Both, my dear,
but I am persuaded your sister has already found a match. All we have to do is
bring him to the mark.’

‘Major
Baverstock, you mean.’

‘Of course I
mean the Major, who else could it be? Now we must make plans...’

This constant
talk of offers and dowries, husbands and lovers, gowns and jewels was more than
Georgie could stomach and she was more determined than ever to return to Rowan
Park at the end of the week. It would mean missing her aunt’s ball and that
would cause a great argument, but she truly could not stand a whole evening in
Lord Barbour’s company. But before she could go there were several social
functions to attend and, for Felicity’s sake, she was determined to enjoy them
and forward her sister’s interest with the Major.

Mrs Bertram
made up a party to visit Ranelagh Gardens one evening which included Richard
and John, Lord and Lady Hereward and their daughter, Juliette. It proved to be
very enjoyable, with fireworks and dancing in the Rotunda, though it was a sad
crush.

The outing was
reciprocated by her ladyship with an invitation to a play. Only too conscious
of being the odd one out, Georgie would rather not have gone but her aunt
insisted that she would give mortal offence if she did not go and so she gave
in. The play was supposed to be a melodrama, but in Georgie’s opinion it was
more like a farce and she was not surprised that the audience spent most of the
time hissing and booing and laughing at the efforts of the players.

She noticed
that Felicity and John seemed to be enjoying it for their heads were together
and they were smiling. As for Richard, he seemed totally bored - or perhaps it
was jealousy which caused the frown? After all, he was supposed to be
Felicity’s escort, not John. She leaned across and spoke to him. ‘You are
looking very serious, Major. Is the entertainment not to your liking?’

He came out of
his brown study to smile at her. ‘What do you think of it?’

‘I find the
audience far more entertaining than the play,’ she said, leaning over the box
to look up at the noisy gallery. There was one couple arguing over whether they
should throw fruit at the actors; he was standing up with his arm ready to fling
an apple and she was trying to stop him. Others, complaining that they blocked
the view of the stage, were entreating them to sit down and shut up unless they
wanted to be thrown over the balcony into the pits. Fortunately they were saved
by the dropping of the curtain for the intermission.

The Major and
Captain Melford went in search of a waiter to bring refreshments for everyone
and while they were gone Lord Barbour came to their box to pay his respects. He
bowed to the ladies and sat in Richard’s vacant seat. He was still there, still
trying to engage Georgie’s attention, when Richard returned. ‘My dear Miss
Paget,’ he was saying, aware that the Major could not return to his chair until
he left, ‘I shall look forward with impatience to Mrs Bertram’s ball; the
invitation arrived this morning. I hope you will stand up with me for at least
two...’ he grinned `... perhaps three dances.’ With that he rose ponderously
and took her hand which he lifted to his lips. ‘Until then, my dear Miss
Paget.’

Georgie did not
like his familiar way of addressing her and was half inclined to give him a
put-down for supposing that she would agree to more than the two dances which
etiquette decreed were proper, but, looking over his shoulder, she saw Richard
watching them. He had a look of fury, as if she had no right to speak to whom
she pleased, and a little devil inside her made her smile impishly. ‘Pray, do
not hurry away, my lord. The second act is not yet begun.’

With a smile of
triumph, he sat down again, much to Mrs Bertram’s delight. She called to
Richard to sit between her and Felicity, which entailed a great shifting
around, so that Georgie was sitting between his lordship and John, who had
Juliette on his other side, and thus they settled down for the second act. It
was all so contrived that it amused Georgie, who told herself she had no
preference where she sat.

But as the
remainder of the play was as bad as the first she found her attention wandering
to the dimness of the box behind her. She had encouraged Lord Barbour simply to
score a point over Major Baverstock and she was heartily ashamed of herself.
Her behaviour would embolden his lordship, who sat gloating beside her and
laughing too loudly at the antics of the players on the stage, and it would
certainly give the Major an aversion to the whole family. Had she spoiled
Felicity’s chances? She glanced towards them. From what she could see, they
were both engrossed in the drama on the stage and ignoring each other.

Mrs Bertram
noticed it too, and it was the subject of her diatribe in the coach on the way
home. ‘Felicity, my child, you really must not behave so coldly towards the
Major; you will not encourage him that way.’

‘I didn’t mean
to be cold,’ she said. ‘But he frightens me. Every time he looks at me, I am
struck dumb.’

‘You seem to
have no difficulty in smiling at Captain Melford and chattering like a magpie
to Juliette Hereward.’

‘They are more
my own age.’

‘Fudge! You
must make more of a push. Your sister had made a great many sacrifices to give
you this Season and you are unlikely to get another.’

‘Oh, Aunt,’
Georgie put in, laying a reassuring hand on her sister’s arm. ‘Please don’t
make a great thing out of that. I would not have Felicity made to feel guilty
on my account. Besides, you have done most...’

‘Oh, give me
patience!’ their aunt exclaimed as the carriage drew up at their door. ‘How
either of you can expect to take when you don’t listen to a word I say, I do
not know. Do you want to go home without a single offer between you?’

‘As for me,
Aunt, I expect none,’ Georgie said, all the more determined not to put herself
in the position of having to hear a proposal from Lord Barbour. ‘But Felicity
is a different matter.’

Mrs Bertram
turned to her younger niece. ‘Well, child, are you going to take my advice or
not?’

‘I’ll try,
Aunt,’ Felicity said meekly, squeezing Georgie’s hand.

The next
morning the Major called to escort Felicity to Bullock’s Museum, and because
their aunt had not yet left her room Georgie was once again pressed into
service as chaperon. It was a duty she would willingly have laid down, not
because she did not want to see the wonders on display, but because she found
herself trembling at the thought of meeting Major Baverstock again. It was not
fear which held her in its grip but shame that she had as good as cut him. If
he was to be her brother-in-law, then for her sister’s sake the sooner she put
that right the better.

It was a
pleasant morning, not too hot considering it was July, and they had decided to
walk the short distance to Old Bond Street. The girls were dressed in cool
muslins and carried lace-trimmed parasols and Richard was handsomely dressed
for town in a double-breasted dark green tailcoat and buff pantaloons, his
cravat skilfully tied and held with a diamond pin. They were three very
handsome young people out on the town, though Felicity was, as usual, very
quiet and Georgie’s smile so stiff she thought her face would crack. Richard
seemed unaware of it as he walked between them, stopping every now and again to
doff his tall hat and greet acquaintances and chatting easily to both girls.

Georgie
wondered if he had forgotten how badly she had treated him, or perhaps he had
decided to ignore it for her sister’s sake. Or perhaps he’d excused her on the
grounds that she knew no better. That hurt most of all. She could not say
anything to him in front of her sister but she did not see how she was ever
going to be able to speak to him alone in order to apologise.

There was a
crowd at the entrance to the museum for several new exhibits had lately arrived
from the battlefields and Londoners, who had little idea of what a battle was
really like, were agog to see torn standards and captured eagles, bloodied
sabres and guns which had been at this and that siege. There were a great many
soldiers begging along the lines of people waiting to go in. ‘Spare a copper
for an old soldier who fought for ‘is country,’ they said, and, when they were
rebuffed, muttered among themselves, using language that made the girls’ ears
turn pink with embarrassment.

Three in
particular stood near the door, entreating those about to enter. They were
filthy and dressed in rags; one had lost an arm and another had a blood-stained
bandage round his head and covering one eye. ‘This is what we fought and died
for, is it?’ one of them said, pushing against Felicity, who jumped back in
alarm. ‘So the rich can gape at rubbish from a battlefield. Why don’t you put
us on display, eh? We’re rubbish, ain’t that so? Never no mind it’s ‘cos of
what we did you can sleep easy in yer bed o’ nights.’

`Get away,’
Felicity cried, putting her gloved hands to her face and backing against
Richard, who gently put her into Georgie’s care and turned back to the men.

‘What was your
regiment?’ he demanded.

‘Ninth, sir,’
their spokesmen said, coming stiffly to attention, for he recognised an
officer, even though he was in civilian dress, and old habits died hard.