Page 32 of Scandal’s Daughter

It had never crossed his mind that the child would have the audacity to face the ton. There was a part of him that admired her pluck. After all it was her mother’s sin, not hers, and if it hadn’t been his own family about to suffer, he could have felt sympathy for her.

Well, the bitch needn’t think he would smooth her way. He would cut her and refuse to acknowledge her, and where he led, many, if not all the ton would follow.

Worse was the realisation that Falmouth was behind this. This was without a doubt his punishment for what he’d done to Céleste. He had read with great relief and incredulous surprise the news of their marriage last autumn. He had tried hard to take Céleste from the earl, even resorting to some underhand measures which were not at all his usual style. But he had not the slightest doubt that the bastard was enjoying every minute of his revenge. He crumpled the newspaper, throwing it across the room in disgust and putting his head in his hands.

God what a mess.

For a moment the longing to run back to Georgiana was so great it was as though his heart was being crushed in his chest. He gave a snort of amusement as he considered his innocent beauty. He had never heeded Jeffries’ warning about his red-headed sweetheart, but that another fiery haired woman should enter his life and turn it upside down for such different reasons seemed beyond fair.

Sebastian started as his mother laid her frail hand on his shoulder and he turned to look up at her.

“Don’t go near her, my darling boy. Her mother took your father from us both. She ruined us and I have the most terrible fear that her daughter has come to finish the job.”

“Mother!” He took her hands again and planted a kiss on her forehead. “You’re getting yourself in a silly state over nothing. Of course, I won’t go near her. I shall give her the cut direct, and then see how long she’ll last here. No one will receive her.”

He smiled at her and tried to impart a calm he was far from feeling. Those dreadful days following his father’s death seemed to be parading through his mind. The fear and the terrible sorrow he’d had at the loss of his wonderful, charismatic father. The guilt he’d felt as he realised, he must hate him for what he’d done. And after that the very real anger that he had done it - his father had left him and mother alone for a woman, and he’d died for it.

“Come now. This will blow over in no time at all, you see if it doesn’t. We shall be quite comfortable again, I promise you.”

***

Georgiana looked out of the window at a bright blue sky and gave a sigh of longing. At home she was used to walking miles, either to visit neighbours or just for the joy of being outside and in the fresh air. No amount of mud or cold could convince her to stay indoors, and here in the city she felt the restrictions of life chafe her. Her limbs felt heavy and dull from lack of exercise and a pitiful, heartfelt sigh from Conrad as he stared wistfully out the window beside her was the last straw.

“You’re quite right, love. We both need some exercise, or we’ll fall into a fit of the dismals and then where shall we be?”

Conrad gave a short and joyful bark of agreement and began to jump about in circles as he realised a walk was in order.

Lord and Lady Falmouth were both out this afternoon, having been summoned by Aunt Seymour, and Georgiana had been only too pleased to cry off visiting the intimidating old woman. She had promised she was quite happy to sit at home and read by the fire, but surely a walk with her dog should be unexceptionable if she took the precaution of having a footman with her?

With the satisfaction of one still unused to wearing the latest fashions, Georgiana fastened her new holly-green merino redingote and arranged the matching silk hat with untrimmed velvet upon her bright red curls. A pale green ostrich feather curled in a becoming fashion over the brim and as she pulled on a soft pair of York tan gloves, she professed herself satisfied.

She turned and took Conrad’s lead from her designated footman, who was in turn wearing an air of deep disapproval.

“He seems a touch excitable, Miss,” he said, looking at Conrad with dismay. “Perhaps it would be wiser if I held onto him, at least until he settles down.”

“Nonsense,” she said with a bright smile. “He hates men and he’ll behave even worse if you take him, I assure you. He’s just not used to being restrained you see.” She bent down and gave Conrad a scratch behind his ears. “Are you, my poor little love? Yes, yes, we’re going. Come along.”

At first their walk passed off with no problem at all and Conrad even deigned to allow the footman, whose name Georgiana discovered was Thomas, to hold him while she did some small items of shopping on the way.

First, she stepped into Floris on Jermyn Street, ostensibly to buy a new toothbrush, but did not find herself greatly surprised when she emerged with a new bottle of perfume.

She had been called as much by the lovely blue glass bottle, engraved with butterflies as by the scent itself. But once the fragrance had been presented to her, she had to have it. A light citrus with a hint of orange blossom and something spicy she couldn’t quite place. Handing her carefully packaged treasure into Thomas’ care, she took hold of Conrad again and they carried on until they turned the corner into Piccadilly where the lure of Hatchard’s book shop was simply too much to resist.

She had been itching to get her hands on the new novel by Miss Austen. Emma had been published just before Christmas and as yet she hadn’t been able to buy a copy.

It was with a rather guilty conscience that she emerged from the delights of the glorious shop where she could have happily spent the entire day - a full half hour later.

Both Thomas and Conrad looked very put out indeed as the footman gratefully exchanged dog for book. With a promise to herself to return another day without Conrad she went to walk on. Unfortunately, Conrad seemed to feel that his patience deserved rather a greater reward.

They were just passing Fortnum and Mason and it would have to be admitted that the most tantalising smells issued forth from inside the elegant façade. Indeed, since they had been in London Conrad had become perfectly enamoured of Scotch eggs and would do almost anything to lay his jaws upon one. This became only too apparent as he began to pull and tug at his lead with such vigour that Georgiana tripped and would have fallen if she hadn’t been caught by a strong pair of arms. With a gasp she looked up, and then up a bit more at the vision of a golden, blue-eyed Adonis.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, both startled, before Georgiana realised the impropriety of standing on a busy street in the arms of an unknown man.

“I do beg your pardon, Sir,” she said, flushing and trying to straighten her bonnet. “Oh ... my dog ... Oh!”

With a rush of horror, she realised Conrad had disappeared behind the door of the elegant façade where even now, shrieks of alarm could be heard.

“Oh, good Lord!”

Without giving the handsome man a second glance, she ran into the shop in hot pursuit.