“My lady, allow me to present Lord Turley.” Lady Littleton glanced at him. “I do not believe you have mentioned meeting Miss Featherton’s grandmother, Lady Featherton.”
He swallowed before bowing. “My lady, it is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance. Your granddaughter resembles you.”
“In more than mere appearances.” Her blue eyes narrowed. “You would do well to remember that.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He was being judged and judged harshly. Obviously, the duchess and Lady Featherton cared a great deal for Georgie and were clearly hostile toward him. The worst of it was he couldn’t think of a thing to say to change whatever opinion she had formed about him. Gavin wished he could leave, but Lady Littleton was still speaking with the duchess. When Lady Featherton gave him one last glare and joined the conversation her friends were having, he almost groaned with relief.
Finally, the party was called to take their seats, and Lady Littleton led him to two chairs set in a bow window. “We cannot leave the room, but we will not bother anyone if we speak softly. There are four things I believe you should do.” She held up one finger. “Write Littleton with a letter for Miss Featherton asking for her forgiveness.” Gavin opened his mouth to object, but her ladyship shook her head and held up a second finger. “Ask Littleton if you can go to Littlewood. Although, Adeline might convince him you should not be allowed to visit. Three, admit that you need not be afraid of loving the woman you wish to wed.” He shook his head, and Lady Littleton sighed. “Four, go to Littlewood and try to convince Miss Featherton that you are worth her risking her heart.”
He shook his head again. “I need a plan before I see her.”
Her ladyship let out an exasperated sound. “And exactly how long do you intend to wait before you come up with this elusive plan?” He winced at the acidity in her ladyship’s tone. “How long has it been since you saw her?”
Too long. “Not that long. It has only been a week.”
For a moment he thought her ladyship had not heard him. Then her lips formed a moue. “Delude yourself if you wish, my boy, but you cannot fool me.” Shrugging lightly, she focused her attention on the stage that had been built. “I have no more advice to give you.”
Bloody hellhounds.
There had to be another way to convince Georgie to marry him. The problem was that her ladyship was right, as usual. He had no plan and wasn’t even close to forming one.
* * *
Frits Littleton ambled into the morning room where Georgie and Adeline were finishing the last two cushion covers. “I say, a horse arrived last night by the name of Lilly. Do either of you—”
“Lilly?” Georgie couldn’t believe what he’d just said. She jumped up before he could finish, knocking over the tambour frame holding her needlework. “She’s here?”
He inclined his head as if he was being serious, but his eyes danced and his lips twitched as if he would burst out laughing at any moment. “She is, and it appears to my stable master that she is looking for someone.”
“Give me a moment to change.” Georgie dashed out of the room, not even apologizing to Adeline. And, forgetting all the years of decorum she had learned, shouted for Smith to attend her immediately. Georgie had not thought her mare would arrive at all.
Smith arrived in Georgie’s dressing room at the same time she did. “I must change into my riding habit.”
“The nankeen or the velvet?”
“The nankeen.” Georgie unmoored the buttons on her day dress. “I want to put Lilly through her paces.”
Smith frowned. “Try not to fall off this time.”
Not again. Georgie almost groaned at her maid’s lack of understanding. “I keep telling you that the falling off is important. One must always be ready, and Hawksworth taught me how to fall. It is something that must be practiced.”
“You’re going to break your neck,” Smith warned unrepentantly.
“The point of practicing is so that I do not break my neck or any other part of me.” Georgie pushed the day gown down, stepped out of it, and held her arms up to receive the skirt of her riding habit.
“Harrumph.” Smith dropped the garment over Georgie’s head. “I pray to the Lord you’re right.”
Georgie kept her grin to herself. “Trust me, or rather Hawksworth, I am.” She shoved her feet into her riding boots, and stood still as her maid affixed her hat, a bit of straw with a feather that curled under her chin. She pulled on her gloves, opened a box, and took a handful of dried apple pieces. “I shall see you later.”
“Do not forget you will need time to bathe before tea,” Smith called as Georgie strode out of the room.
“I will be back in time.” She descended the stairs in a rush as a footman held the door open.
“Have a good ride, miss.”
“I shall,” she threw over her shoulder. The whole house must know her horse had arrived. Her maid had not even been surprised by her demand.
When she reached the stable, Lilly was already saddled and standing next to the mounting block. “Lilly!”
