Page 41 of Scandal’s Daughter

“Nonsense,” he replied, though Georgiana could see he was more than pleased by the comment. “You’ll flirt and dance with all your cicisbei and not give your poor old husband another thought.”

At this point Georgiana felt it was prudent to leave them alone, as there was a look in Céleste’s eyes that proved her husband’s words wrong.

***

The ritual of readying herself for the coming evening was not quite enough to dispel the thunderous fluttering of wings, that seemed more akin to crows than butterflies, as Georgiana’s stomach clenched in anxiety. She’d barely eaten a thing all day, too aware that tonight was the real test. Almack’s was the holiest of holies, hallowed ground to the ton, and whilst Seymour might have been able to blackmail her way into gaining her vouchers, she couldn’t force them to accept her.

She let out a shaky sigh as her abigail stepped back and nodded with approval.

“Oh, Miss Bomford, you do look a picture.”

She smiled at her maid in the glass. She was perhaps a year or two younger than Georgiana and had quickly formed an attachment to her mistress that boded a good relationship. “Thank you so much, Sarah. You’ve done a wonderful job.”

Madame Lisabeth had indeed outdone herself with her wonderful design. The dress was her own version of the Saxe-Cobourg robe which had been the talk of the ton just a few weeks previously.

It fell off the shoulder with little satin sleeves at her upper arms and she’d used the newly discovered and very sought-after Chinese gauze in a pale shimmering gold. It was trimmed with tulle and ivory satin and set against Georgiana’s deep russet locks the whole image presented that of something burnished by the sun.

Although it was by no means the fashion, once again that single lock of hair had been allowed to tumble carelessly over her shoulder. This time Georgiana’s misgivings were even greater than before. Céleste, however, had been adamant. The curl remained.

By the time they had greeted Lady Russell outside the doors of Almack’s Georgiana felt positively nauseated by the thought of having to face a ballroom full of the ton’s most powerful and fashionable figures. Tonight, could make her, or it could ruin her once and for all.

“Come,” Céleste whispered, taking her arm and giving it an encouraging squeeze. “I am beside you and who cares what they think? They don’t know the truth about either of us. They will believe the face we show them if we carry ourselves with confidence.”

Georgiana returned a smile that made her face feel tight and Céleste tutted at her.

“Mon Dieu, Georgie, don’t you know ‘ow ravishing you look tonight? You’ve already got Beau ‘anging on your sleeve and if you think it’s your fortune alone that captured ‘is attention you are much mistaken!”

She could do nothing but give a little huff of laughter in the face of Céleste’s obvious indignation. Well, at least her friend was confident on her behalf, and ... well, that thought did actually make her feel better.

“You ‘ave friends ‘ere,” Céleste whispered with a severe expression, and so Georgiana smiled, a little more naturally, took a deep breath, and entered the fray.

They walked through the grand entrance hall and were relieved of their cloaks before ascending the elegant stone staircase to the ballroom. Music and laughter and the soft burble of voices could be heard long before they approached the great doors and Georgiana caught her breath as she saw the famous ballroom for the first time.

The room was vast and exquisite with plasterwork medallions and swags in a classical design and a chandelier lit with more candles than she had ever seen in one place. The walls were white and a pale gold and the draperies a soft duck egg blue. On one side of the great room was a large balcony that ran almost a third of one wall and allowed people to watch those who were dancing and swirling below them in a dizzying flurry of silken skirts.

With a feeling close to panic closing about her throat, Georgiana realised she had never seen so many people all in one place before in her life. The room was packed full of hundreds of people, all of them dressed in the finest fabrics and most glittering jewels, if not always with the best judgement or taste.

A whisper seemed to flutter through the crowd and Georgiana became gradually aware that her arrival had been noted. The panicky feeling began to take a greater hold of her until a sleek voice whispered in her ear.

“And here is that shiny red apple again. I really don’t know what you expect a poor, helpless creature to do against such temptation, Miss Bomford. I am being drawn into dangerous waters.”

She looked around and almost sighed with relief at the vision of Beau’s beautiful smile.

Dipping a curtsey, she returned his greeting with one of deep gratitude. “Good evening, Lord Beaumont. I confess I am very happy to see a friendly face.”

“Friendly?” he replied, one eyebrow a little quirked. “Darling, I’m not sure that’s the word you’re looking for. I have no intention of being your friend, I’m afraid.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Very well then, I’m glad to see you even if you’re not the least bit friendly.”

He grinned at her and then his eyes fell to the curl once again and he sighed. “I intend to have a lock of that hair, you know.”

“Oh, do you?” she replied, aware that Céleste was speaking to Aunt Seymour and another acquaintance that had joined them but was also keeping an eye on her protégé. “And just how do you propose to do that?”

“I couldn’t possibly tell you that, now could I?” he replied, those impossibly blue eyes glittering with mischief. “But I should beware dark corners or I will be forced to take advantage of you.”

Georgiana bit her lip against a grin. She knew she shouldn’t really encourage him. He was very far from the kind of man she wanted to marry but it was nice to have an admirer, especially when he was undeniably the best-looking man in the room. But against her will her eyes never stopped looking for the one she had believed to be Beau. After all, he’d clearly been wealthy and from a good family. There was every chance he was here.

Somewhere ...

“I thank you for the warning, though I thought it was I who was the danger to you? Not the other way around.”

“Oh, you are,” he replied, and this time his voice was more serious. “You are a very dangerous game indeed,” he murmured.

At this point Aunt Seymour and Céleste turned back to her and Beau chatted politely to them all for a little while, securing dances with both her and Céleste before leaving them alone to join some other friends.

“That’s a good start for you, my girl,” Seymour said with an approving nod. “Though it won’t do to be seen too much in his company. Too much in the petticoat line that one, and that would do you no good at all. But his interest will spur a good many others to seek you out, mark my words.”

“I’m surprised to see he’s even allowed here,” Georgiana said in a low voice. “I mean after everything last year and his reputation and all ...”

“Oh, but he’s the height of fashion, my dear,” the old lady replied chuckling. “And such an amusing man, such engaging manners. Respectability isn’t the only way to gain access here you see, it’s a little more complicated than that.”

She gave Georgiana a wink before complaining she had been standing quite long enough and went to seek out some of her cronies.

It soon became clear that Seymour’s words had been perfectly correct. Although Georgiana heard many whispers about The Siren and caught many sneers and disgusted looks that made her blush with mortification, that wasn’t the only attention she caught.

She even noticed one or two ladies with a familiar curl falling with great daring into their décolletage. It appeared she had started a trend. But it was certainly not just the women who had noticed her.

“Like bees around a ‘oney pot,” Céleste hissed in her ear at one point as Seymour was sought out time and again by various men, eager to be introduced the newest and brightest diamond in the room. For that was what many were calling her, and Georgiana was torn between deep embarrassment and bemusement at some of the extravagant compliments that were cast her way. But naturally, she couldn’t help but wonder ... how many of them would have been so keen if the fact she was an heiress hadn’t also been dangled in front of them, and how on earth was she to tell?