Page 38 of Scandal’s Daughter

Chapter 18

“Wherein our heroine faces the ton, and an Adonis makes his move.”

“I think the white,” Céleste replied, looking at the row of beautiful dresses with a critical eye. “Oui, I’m certain.”

“B-but, I can’t wear white!” Georgiana protested. It was finally the day she had been both dreading and waiting for. She would be making her come out tonight at Lady Allen’s rout party.

Céleste put her hands on her hips and turned on Georgiana with such fury in her eyes she was quite taken aback. Small and delicate she might look, but the countess was a little firebrand when her temper was up, as Georgiana had discovered.

When she had finally confessed to her new friend everything that had happened to her, Céleste’s anger on her behalf had been quite spectacular. She had raged and cursed both in English and in French, to such a point that Georgiana had found herself in the strange position of trying to calm her.

“What if I’m just like my mother?” she’d asked, appalled. “What if ... if I’m ... fast?”

Céleste hooted with laughter. “But ‘e was ‘andsome, non?” she demanded, her blue eyes wide with amusement.

“Well, yes, very.”

The countess just threw up her hands in a well there you are gesture, which didn’t help at all until she sighed and shook her head at Georgiana and took her hands.

“Chérie, just because you are a woman does not mean you do not want or desire. Oh!” she huffed with annoyance and waved one elegant hand in the air. “We are supposed to be so prim and sweet and innocent on the outside, but if you got to the bedroom and just laid there like a stick, I assure you they would soon lose interest. They want it both ways these men. But I promise you, in bed they want to be wanted and desired, they want you to gasp and moan for them and call their names. You are perfectly normal, silly goose, and don’t ever think otherwise.”

Georgiana blushed scarlet but found herself more than relieved by her friend’s blunt answer. That being the case, she wondered if Céleste could enlighten on a few other topics. Of course, she’d lived her whole life in the country and wasn’t totally ignorant as to the way procreation was supposed to happen but ... a few details would be appreciated.

Céleste, of course, was more than happy to fill in as many details as Georgiana wanted, some of which made complete sense alongside the conclusions she’d come to, and others ... which shocked her to her bones.

Their discussion had carried on, in hushed whispers, when they went downstairs for luncheon. When Lord Falmouth walked in on them and they both fell silent, however, his frown of suspicion had them both succumbing to such hysterics they drove the poor man from the room muttering about addle brained females.

Now, however, Céleste was holding up a pure white dress with a glint of determination in her eyes that was unlikely to be talked down.

“And why, tell me, should you not wear white? Are you a fallen woman? A Cytherean? Did you give the imposter your virtue?”

“No!” Georgiana exclaimed in horror. “You know I didn’t.”

Céleste gave a little huff of triumph. “Alors, then you will wear the dress, very simple with just some pearls, I think, and you will steal every man’s breath, I promise you.” As though that was the end of the argument, Céleste headed for the door. “Now I must get ready too, or I will be late, and Alex will be cross.” She winked at Georgiana who knew as well as she did that Alex would be nothing of the sort and left her to attend to her own toilette.

Georgiana sighed as her abigail gave a light scratch at the door to announce her arrival and the preparations began.

Sometime later, standing before the mirror, Georgiana had to concede that Céleste had a point.

The dress was of white watered gros-de-Naples, with very rich lace around the hem surmounted by embroidered orange flower blossoms. Real orange blossoms adorned her hair which was burnished and curled around her head with the exception of one errant curl. This, at Céleste’s instruction, had been left to fall over her shoulder and rest just above her breast. Georgiana had been scandalised, thinking it looked a little too daring when she was supposed to be the model of propriety.

Céleste had just given her a pitying look. “What do you want from this, mon poussin?” she asked. “Do you just want to please all the old gossips and the nasty bitches who will talk about you no matter what you do? Or do you want to attract an ‘usband? An interesting man who you could love and respect and do the same for you in return?”

Georgiana huffed and raised her hands in surrender and Céleste nodded with approval. “Then you do as I say. If you look too dull and virginal people will think you are trying too ‘ard. You ‘ave dressed in perfect propriety but this.” She tugged at the fiery curl with a smirk. “This is you poking your tongue out and daring them to try to squash your spirit. Tu comprends?”

Oh yes, Georgiana thought with a sigh, she did understand.

***

Though it was still early in the season, Lady Allen’s party was a crush. Georgiana clung to Céleste like a limpet for the first hour or so, too unused to such numbers of people and too terrified by the calculating looks in their eyes whenever she caught them staring at her. She took a breath and tried not to wish she was back home, sitting by the fire and reading one of her favourite novels.

“I feel like I am caught in a dream.”

She turned, startled by the soft voice that was suddenly so close at hand and found herself looking up into the blue eyes of her heroic Adonis.

He was, if it were possible, even more handsome in the candlelight, but then of course this was his natural habitat. This was the hunting ground of the notorious seducer and he was clearly intent on making her his next conquest. The thought amused rather than troubled her as her heart was too damaged to allow another to hurt it any further.

“A dream you say, Lord Beaumont?” she replied, amused. “Should I pinch you to be sure?”