To Win the Lady (8 page)

He turned to
bow to her and Felicity coloured prettily as she dropped a curtsy. ‘I am
pleased to meet you, Major Baverstock,’ she said. ‘I have heard a great deal
about you.’

‘From your
sister?’

Felicity
glanced at Georgie in surprise. ‘Why, no, sir; how can Georgie have spoken of
you? I meant from my aunt and Mrs Melford.’

‘Take her off
and dance with her,’ Harriet said, suddenly aware of a tension in the
atmosphere which she was anxious to dispel. ‘You have this waltz free,
Felicity, do you not?’

‘Mr Melford...’
she began tentatively.

‘Oh, he will
not mind, will he, Major? Besides, he has not come to claim it. Now run along;
I wish to have words with Georgiana.’

They glided
away just as John returned. ‘You are too late, Captain,’ Mrs Bertram told him.
‘Besides, you have danced twice with Miss Felicity already.’

‘Then perhaps
Miss Paget?’ he asked, chagrined.

‘No,’ Mrs
Bertram spoke for her. ‘Miss Paget is fatigued and sitting this one out. I have
not yet seen you do a turn with Miss Davenport. I perceive her sitting beside
her mama over there and looking quite doleful.’

He could not
ignore so blatant a dismissal and as soon as he had gone Harriet turned on her
elder niece. ‘Such familiarity! Were you off your head? "Foolhardy",
you said. Yes, you are indeed that. When did you meet him and where? And why
did you say nothing?’

It was the
first time that question was asked but it was not the last. When Felicity
returned at the end of the waltz, she asked it too, and Georgie was faced with
it again half an hour later when Richard asked her to dance a Chaîne Anglaise
with him.

‘Why did you not
tell your aunt and sister you had met me when I am so obviously a subject for
their tattle?’ he demanded as the opening bars of the music signalled that he
should execute a sweeping bow.

‘That isn’t
fair!’ she exclaimed, dropping into a deep curtsy. ‘Just because my aunt and
Mrs Melford mention your name it does not make Felicity a gossip. She is a
sweet, kind girl, and very biddable.’

‘I am sure she
is,’ he said laconically as the first movement began.

She looked up
into his dark eyes and felt them searing into her, just as they had once
before, and she found herself growing weak. How dare he make her feel like
that, as if she hadn’t a bone in her body? Thankfully the dance separated them,
but he returned to the subject as soon as they came together again to execute a
tour de main. ‘You did not answer my question. What have you to hide?’

‘I have nothing
to conceal, Major,’ she said, forcing herself to sound cool. ‘I simply thought
it would be better if Felicity made up her own mind about you.’

He threw back
his head and laughed. ‘Oh, I see; the matchmakers are at it again, are they?
I’ve no doubt they told you I was in want of a wife.’

‘Are you?’ she
demanded, disconcerting him. His father’s ultimatum was fresh in his ears.
‘Find yourself a wife,’ he had said. ‘Give me a grandchild. Do you really wish
to see William take over when I’m gone? I don’t like the thatchgallows above
half, but if he is obedient, and you ain’t, what choice have I?’

He had returned
again and again to the same topic during the three days Richard had been at
home, until Richard was ready to explode, and when William himself had arrived
from nearby Borton where he had a small estate it was the last straw. The man
was a toad-eater of the first water; he had married Lucille, Honorés daughter,
the young lady Richard had rejected, and produced a family of five in no time
at all.

Richard could
not stand by and watch him unctuously doing his utmost to put himself in a good
light and the son of the house in a bad one; it had been done before by his
stepmother and resulted in Richard’s self-imposed exile. He would be damned if
he would allow it to happen again.

He had slammed
out of the front door, mounted Paget’s Pegasus and ridden to town, racking up
overnight at the Swan in Stevenage, smouldering every step of the way. His ire
had not been helped by the knowledge that he had not been the best of sons and
he would do well to try and make amends, not only because of the inheritance,
but in order to please his father. He would find a wife and one his lordship
would approve of.

‘Well, are
you?’ Georgie demanded, breaking in on his reverie.

‘Am I what?’

‘Looking for a
wife.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Then I am
persuaded you should look no further.’

He looked down
at her in astonishment; that she was outspoken and lacking in reserve he
already knew, but to be so blunt about it was past comprehension and he was at
a loss to know how to answer her. ‘You? Why, Miss Paget, you flatter me...’

‘Not me,’ she
snapped, disconcerted by her faux pas and anxious to rid him of the idea that
she was putting herself forward. ‘I was referring to my sister. Though, on
reflection, perhaps you would not do, for you are far too conceited. And if you
were to make her unhappy I think I should kill you.’

‘Oh, dear, that
has me quaking my boots.’

‘And it is
excessively uncivil of you to make fun of me.’

‘I am sorry,’
he said contritely. ‘You are evidently very fond of your sister.’

‘Of course I
am. I want her to be happy. My aunt has pointed out my duty very plainly and I
must do my utmost to help Felicity to the best possible match.’

‘And you?’ he
asked softly. ‘What about you?’

‘Oh, I have my
horses,’ she said airily, giving herself no time to wonder why he had asked the
question. ‘They are enough for me.’

‘And, of
course, you never jump a hedge blind,’ he murmured, leaving her pondering on
what he meant. But there was no time to ask him because the dance had ended and
he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm to return her to her aunt.

The rest of the
evening passed in a blur as far as Georgie was concerned. Afterwards, she
thought she had danced once or twice and gone in to supper, though what she ate
of the hundreds of dishes put on the long tables in the dining-room she had no
idea. Returning to Holles Street just before dawn, she told herself it was
because she was not used to town hours. At Rowan Park she retired early so as
to be up betimes for her work in the stables and she had had no time to become
acclimatised to the change. That was possibly true, but she knew it was also
because she had realised she had allowed herself to slide so that she had
become the antidote of all antidotes. ‘Eccentric’, her aunt had said. How right
she had been! And she had made a fool of herself with Major Baverstock; it made
her cheeks burn even to think of it.

‘And what did
you think of Major Baverstock, my dear?’ Mrs Bertram asked Felicity, who had
been chattering on about what a wonderful time she had had. ‘He is a handsome
man, is he not?’

‘Yes, indeed,
Aunt, and he has engaged to call on us tomorrow. I think he means to ask me to
go for a carriage ride in the park.’

‘Good.’ Mrs
Bertram leaned back on the squabs with a sigh of satisfaction. ‘Georgiana will
chaperon you, for I declare I was never so exhausted. I doubt I shall rise
before noon and I have undertaken to visit Caro Sopwithy in the afternoon.’

Georgie opened
her mouth to protest, but shut it again. After all, what possible reason could
she have for refusing? Major Baverstock made an ideal suitor; he was polished
and wealthy and would one day be a viscount. And her sister found him
attractive. It was her duty to go. It was a pity that doing one’s duty was
sometimes such a mixture of pleasure and pain.

‘Of course,
Aunt Harriet,’ she said as the coach drew up at the door and all three were admitted
by a footman who had been dozing in a chair by the door, waiting for their
return. She followed her aunt and sister up the stairs to their respective
rooms where their maids were waiting to help them to bed. After a good night’s
sleep, Georgie told herself as she climbed into bed, she would feel more the
thing, but the ormolu carriage clock on the mantelpiece reminded her that it
was four in the morning and in less than twelve hours she must face the Major
again. Why did she dread that so much? She plumped up her pillow, shut her eyes
firmly and told herself he was only a very ordinary man and she would not give
him the satisfaction of making her feel foolish.

Most of the
young men who had danced with the sisters at the ball arrived to pay their respects
at some time during the following afternoon, many bearing flowers or
sweetmeats, anxious to forward their suit with the younger Miss Paget. She was
flattered, there was no denying it, and accepted several invitations, but it
was obvious that she was not paying as much attention as she should and was
listening anxiously for the arrival of one of their number who had not yet put
in an appearance. After staying a few minutes, they left, one by one.

‘He is not
coming,’ Felicity said when the two girls were alone once more.

‘There is time.
Be patient.’

`There’s a
carriage now.’ She ran to the window and peeped from behind the folds of the
curtain. ‘Oh, it is Major Baverstock!’

‘Come away from
the window, do,’ Georgie admonished her. Her own heart was beating
unaccountably fast and she did not notice the drop in her sister’s voice. ‘It
is not done to appear too eager, you know.’

Her sister had
barely left the window and arranged herself prettily in a chair when Major
Baverstock was announced. He strode into the salon where they had been
receiving their callers and bowed to both ladies. He was obviously ready for
their outing, for he wore a well-cut coat of Bath cloth, biscuit pantaloons and
highly polished hessians.

‘Your servant,
Miss Paget, Miss Felicity,’ he said, tucking his curly-brimmed hat beneath his
arm and sweeping them a bow. ‘I trust I find you both well?’

Somehow the
pleasantries sounded affected coming from him, as if he was repeating something
he had learned by rote and did not really comprehend. Georgie smiled. ‘We are
very well, Major, and looking forward to our ride, aren’t we, Felicity?’

‘I beg pardon?
Oh, yes, of course...’

Felicity seemed
to be in a world of her own and having trouble concentrating; Georgie surmised
that she was nervous and overawed by the attentions of the Major and decided
she would have to speak to her about it. ‘We will go and put on our bonnets and
coats,’ she said. ‘It will not do to keep the horses waiting.’

She took
Felicity’s arm and propelled her from the room and up the stairs,
notwithstanding the fact that her sister seemed reluctant to go. ‘What are you
thinking of, Felicity? You must not be so missish. He does not expect you to go
into vapours at the sight of him; you should have smiled and welcomed him and
made some conversation. Do pull yourself together, dearest, or he will be quite
put off.’

‘If he is so
easily discouraged, I would as lief not entertain him at all,’ Felicity said
with more than usual spirit. ‘I should like him to have a little more
resolution than to be deterred because I am a little distracted.’

‘Why are you
distracted?’

They had
reached the door of Felicity’s room and she turned to go inside, saying, ‘Oh, I
am tired. After the quiet of the country, London is all rush and tear. I shall
be in fine fettle directly.’

Georgie went to
her own room and five minutes later, having donned a light silk shawl and a
plain straw bonnet, which was all that was needed for the weather was very
warm, she went downstairs again to find Felicity already there in a light
pelisse and ribbon-trimmed bonnet, chattering nineteen to the dozen to the
Major. ‘Oh, here is my sister. Now we can go,’ she said brightly. ‘Come,
Georgie, it was you who said the horses must not be kept waiting.’ She turned
to Richard as they left the house together. ‘That is all my sister thinks of,
Major. Horses are her only interest. She would sleep in the stables if she
could. It is all Papa’s fault, of course. He would have liked a son...’

‘Felicity, I am
sure the Major does not want to know about me,’ Georgie put in, noticing the
twitch at the corner of Richard’s mouth.

‘On the
contrary,’ he said politely as he handed them both into the phaeton which stood
at the door. ‘It is pleasing to hear sisters so loyal to each other. I am
persuaded that is not often the case.’

‘Have you
sisters, Major?’ Georgie asked.

‘I fear not. I
am my parents’ only child.’

‘I think that
must be sad for you,’ Felicity said. ‘But no doubt you and your father are very
close.’ And before he could reply to this impertinence she added, ‘We have lost
our dear papa, you know.’

‘Yes. I was
sorry to learn of it.’ He climbed in to sit facing them and commanded his
driver to proceed. ‘It must have been very difficult for you, especially with
no man about the place.’

‘Indeed it was,’
she said, while Georgie sat mute. She had scolded her sister for having no
conversation and now she was displaying the same tendency. ‘But Georgie looks
after everything so well. She was determined I should have my come-out and when
Aunt Harriet arrived back from the war the opportunity seemed too good to
miss...’