Page 8 of Counting on Love

Chapter Three

Georgiana had dressed for the eyes of the ton, not for Lord Taverston, but the poorly hidden smirks of the Duke’s entire household suggested they believed otherwise. How did servants know everything? Even Jeanette, her abigail, insisted upon a more elaborate hairstyle than Georgiana preferred and then even asked if she wanted pins that fell out or pins that stayed in. Alice must have told her about the incident; Georgiana certainly had not.

Since Lady Andini’s ball was the first official function of Georgiana’s second London Season, she had chosen her gown with care, well before her encounter with the Earl of Iversley’s son. Last year she had dutifully worn the whites, pale yellows, and light blues in modest styles becoming to a girl new to adult society. This year, Mama permitted their modiste more license. Georgiana’s gown was a luscious dark-rose. It was gathered beneath her bosom to fall in soft folds to the floor. An elaborate pattern of dark braiding on the bodice emphasized the swell of her hips and breasts and gave the appearance of an impossibly narrow waist. Georgiana had asked the modiste to raise the neckline, though. She’d rather imply an ample bosom than show. She had trunks full of beautiful new clothes, but this was her favorite. As for dressing to impress Lord Taverston, she thought the effort redundant. He needed a wife, one just like her. And here she was.

No doubt his mother was thrilled that they’d met at Mrs. Preston’s. Hers was. And why not? The Duchess was not a gossip, but she nevertheless had her sources. There were no black marks against Lord Jasper Taverston. He hadn’t even been sent down from Oxford that long ago time when she’d seen him at Chaumbers. He’d brought home his brother, Crispin, who had been ill. Georgiana had no memory of that. The poor boy must have spent the entire two weeks in his bedchamber.

Mama also answered for Georgiana, without her asking, why her path had not crossed that of Lord Taverston during the whole of last year when Georgiana had participated in every major ton event and a good number of the minor ones. Where had he been then?

“I’m pleased the Taverstons are back in London, most of them.” Mama had offered, apropos of nothing. “The Earl has been dreadfully ill. He suffered apoplexy, I believe, two summers past, and has not left Chaumbers since. Beatrice—” she paused and corrected herself—“Lady Iversley was there most of last year. And the boys took turns staying with her. And, of course, Olivia kept them company. She was supposed to come out last year. Seventeen is too young, in my opinion, but I seem to be in the minority. Eighteen is more appropriate.”

Olivia. The little sister. The hoyden.

“I didn’t see her at Mrs. Preston’s,” Georgiana mused. “And honestly, I don’t remember her though we must have met at some point.”

“You have. But it’s been a long time. Little girl tea parties and birthdays and such.”

“And at Chaumbers.”

“Yes.” Mama smiled. “She followed you about like a pet. But you were more interested in Lord Taverston. And those silly cats.”

“I was not ‘interested’ in Lord Taverston. Honestly, mother. How old was I? Seven?”

“Just.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Hmm?”

It had been bothering her, so she asked. “If you and Father were friendly enough with Iversley to attend his house party, why…what happened?” It was a fair question in her opinion. After all, they moved in roughly the same circles. She should have known Lord Taverston and the other sons and Olivia too, on sight.

Perhaps she had been hoping for a falling out of earthshattering proportions. Something that would have caused Father to forbid Lord Taverston to call on her. At least then there would be an obstacle for them to overcome, rather than the dull going-through-the-motions. But Mama disappointed her.

“Oh, we were not so very friendly. Though I do like Lady Iversley. We might have been better friends given more opportunity. But we are not London people. And Chaumbers is a long way from Sayles or Marbury. We went that one time because your father and the Earl were working on a bill together.” Mama paused, shaking her head. “It should have passed. But the good bills never do. Anyhow, after that, your father and the Earl discovered how little else they agreed upon. They belong to different clubs. Lady Iversley and I support different charities. The friendship didn’t…take.” Then Mama smiled, as though to reassure her. “But there is no reason it shouldn’t.”

And Georgiana felt that vertigo again.

All she could choose was what dress to wear. Everything else was beyond her control.

*

“Don’t be daft, Reg.” Jasper, impeccable in evening wear, shook his head in disbelief. If Reginald had not been his brother, the man would have used the dreaded quizzing glass on him. “You can’t sit at home sulking.”

“I’m not sulking. I’m reading.”

“Same thing.”

Reginald, seated in a library chair, with a loose, somewhat battered banyan thrown over his shirt and pantaloons, spectacles perched on the crown of his head, responded by putting his nose back into his book.

“My dear, odd little brother,” Jasper continued. “I know you are less bothered by the whole thing than you should be. But if you don’t attend this ball, people will think you are more bothered than you should be. Not only think it. They will say it.”

“And I care…why?” he asked, without raising his eyes from the page.

“Because it’s preposterous. And because I don’t much care for Plodgett and his fat-faced gloating. Honestly, Reg. A little family pride, please.”

He set the book down, frustrated. How on earth could the loss of his mistress be a blow to “family pride?” “What am I supposed to do? Call him out?”

“No. Don’t even dignify this with the cut direct. Go right up to him. Wish him a pleasant evening. Ask him about his gout.”