Page 19 of Counting on Love

Chapter Six

If Georgiana had found the ton exasperating before, now she found it infuriating. Four weeks had passed since Lady Andini’s ball, yet the whispers had not abated.

She sat in her favorite chair in the drawing room with her legs curled beneath her since no one was there to see. The drapes were pushed open to let in the sunshine, but there was so little of that, she lit a lamp. Her embroidery was tossed carelessly into a basket, and she held a book in her lap, smuggled from her father’s library—Father wouldn’t mind, but Mama frowned upon her reading “men’s books.” It had engaged her attention for a while, but she stalled on a set of equations that stymied her understanding. Those Hellenistic astronomers and their geometric models! She should put it down for now, but that would leave her brooding.

Oh! She was brooding. This would not do at all.

Mama had scolded her for disappearing with Lord Taverston but listened to her explanation and agreed it was just an unfortunate situation. Of course, she should not have gone to the garden with him. Still, under the circumstances, it had been a kindness.

A kindness. For which she was now being punished.

No, not punished. Set aside.

Mama said to ignore the gossip, or it would take wings. If they were to deny any understanding between her and Lord Taverston, how would it appear if he returned shortly and began to court her in earnest? If he were detained very much longer, rumors would lose traction, and gentlemen would start to come around again.

How irritating to actually miss having suitors.

She hated that she did not know what people were saying. She could guess the gist: people were linking her name with that of Lord Taverston. It was known by now that the Earl had taken ill, explaining the son’s abrupt departure. But what were the gossips reporting exactly? Mama must know but refused to dignify gossip by repeating it. Alice said she’d heard nothing, then blushed so hard Georgiana knew that she had. Wasn’t forewarned supposed to be forearmed? Yet rushing around denying everything would make it all worse. She had to rely on her mother’s good sense.

And if she ended up a spinster, so be it.

She had been to the theater weekly, a recital, three teas, and five more balls. She danced. She had partners of course, but the men were reserved. She received no morning-after bouquets. She had been taken on no rides in the park. Repetitive as she had once found them, these attentions were expected. And unexpectedly missed.

She spent one afternoon with Lady Caroline Newland, a longtime friend, who asked if she might sketch Georgiana and Alice. Caroline was not without talent but had trouble finding people to sit for her after she had exhausted her store of relatives. It had been pleasant enough, catching up, until Caroline asked if she had heard any word about the Earl of Iversley.

“Why would I have?” she replied in a freezing tone.

Caroline reddened and stammered, “N-no reason. Only I thought His Grace and the Earl were friendly.”

“I’m sure I don’t know. The Duke does not discuss his friendships with me.”

Which was true but disingenuous. Alice changed the subject abruptly by leaping from her stool and claiming a spider had crossed her shoe. Her cousin was a dear.

And Alice had received three bouquets this morning. Well, good for her.

Georgiana’s grand pet was interrupted by the butler.

“A caller has come. Viscount Haslet.”

Thank God. She sat up straight and shoved her book between the cushions. “Please bring him in.” Oh, but bother. She was alone. “And inform Her Grace.”

“Certainly, my lady.” He stepped aside to admit Hazard, who peered into the drawing room and then paused, hand on the doorframe. His morning coat hung loosely, lending his lean torso a lazy, comfortable appearance. She felt better just seeing him.

“Shall I wait?” he asked.

“Probably.” Then she threw up her hands. “No, that’s unreasonable. Come sit down.”

He sauntered in and took a chair a respectable distance from her, pushing aside a few pillows. He tented his fingers in front of his face.

“And how are you doing?”

“I am well. And you?”

He grimaced. “Perfect. Just perfect. What were you reading there? Something wildly inappropriate, I hope.”

“Worse.” She pulled it out and showed him.

“Astronomy?” His nose wrinkled. “Stars and planets and such?”