Page 54 of Scandal’s Daughter

Chapter 24

“Wherein hot air causes mischief all around.”

“I can’t think how you persuaded me into this,” Beau remarked as they strolled in and out of picnicking families strewn about the grass in Hyde Park as they made their way towards The Ring.

The grand circle of trees enclosed a large space where the fashionable came to see and be seen, to promenade and sometimes ride or show off a new sporting curricle or a tilbury - which was becoming quite the rage, and some flashy high steppers.

Today, however, a crowd had assembled for the spectacle of a balloon ascension. The silky, blue and gold mound of fabric was billowing disconsolately in the warm spring breeze, however, and showed no immediate signs of taking to the skies.

Georgiana looked up at Beau with amusement.

“Persuaded you? You wretch! You practically begged to escort me.”

He shrugged and pursed his lips. “Perhaps,” he admitted. “But it’s rather unkind of you to remember that fact.” He sighed and looked down at his dusty boots with an expression of deep distress. “My valet won’t speak to me for weeks, you know.”

“Mortifying,” she said, tutting and shaking her head sadly as he narrowed his eyes at her.

“You can mock, sweet Eve. But it will be entirely your fault if he sends me out with my cravat askew and last season’s coat on my back, I assure you.” He looked pained at the amusement in her expression. “My reputation may never recover,” he complained with a sad shake of his head.

“How terribly shocking,” she murmured, trying not to chuckle and failing. He grinned at her, pleased as ever to have made her laugh. “Oh, come on then,” she replied, taking pity on him. “Let’s go to the Cake House and get an ice. It’s really very hot and dusty isn’t it.”

Agreeing with obvious pleasure, he escorted her to a charming little white-painted house with a multitude of beams, pretty latticed windows and a gabled roof. It was an idyllic picture and a surprisingly Arcadian setting in the heart of the capital. Wild flowers and oleander bushes grew in profusion and a little stream ran directly in front of the entrance door. A rickety plank forming a rustic bridge had to be traversed to gain entrance to the building. Beau went first and reached his hand out to help Georgiana across.

Smirking at him Georgiana refused his hand and immediately regretted it as the plank tilted a little to the left and her heel slipped on the dry timber. With a squeal she righted herself and scurried forward to be hauled against Beau before her balance deserted her for a second time.

She gasped and looked up, only too aware of the hard male body pressed flush against hers. For a moment his hold on her tightened and she could feel the heat of him through the fine sarsnet of her gown. Looking up she found his blue eyes full of desire and knew without a doubt he was desperate to kiss her.

She wondered what it would be like, to be kissed by him. Could he really make her forget Sebastian?

He released his hold on her before anyone could see, but there was reluctance in his eyes.

“Careful, Eve,” he whispered in her ear. “I have only so much self-control, my sweet temptress.”

She huffed at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Well it isn’t as if I lost my balance on purpose, is it?” she muttered, smoothing out the line of her pale blue walking dress.

He reached out, on the premise of picking an imaginary piece of lint from her darker blue velvet spencer but instead wound the red curl he found so tempting around his finger and gave a little tug. She looked up, startled by his boldness. Although he spoke far too freely with her, he never overstepped the bounds of propriety. In fact, he seemed to be on his best behaviour in that respect, as aware as she of the eyes on them. There was a fierce look in his eyes now though, as he tugged the little ringlet again and raised it to his lips.

“I won’t be denied, Eve,” he said. “You cannot keep me on a leash forever with that tempting red apple so close to my jaws. I’m not the spoilt little lap dog you’d like me to be, no matter that’s how you treat me.”

“I do not!” she replied, indignation staining her cheeks.

He snorted and she couldn’t read the expression on his face, but she wondered if she’d hurt him somehow. “You think I don’t see how you watch him? Waiting to see how jealous he is when he sees us together?”

“I ...” She stopped before she began her rejection of his accusation, too aware of the truth of it. Had she really just been using him all this time? She stared back at him, stricken and unable to form a reply. For she did care for him, very much, and he would be dreadfully easy to fall in love with ... if her heart hadn’t already been taken.

“I’m sorry, Beau, I ...”

He dropped the curl and waved his hand looking annoyed. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me,” he snapped, and she was a little taken aback by the anger in his eyes. “I give you fair warning, my lovely siren, I won’t play nicely any longer. Do you understand?”

She nodded, disquieted by the look in his eyes.

“No,” he murmured. “I don’t think you do. But you will.” He offered her his arm and they walked into the little shop. “Come now,” he said, smiling at her again, his fit of temper apparently passed. “Let’s cool ourselves off with an ice, and then I’ll take you out in one of the boats. How does that sound?”

“Lovely,” she replied, smiling back at him, relieved that he seemed to have got over whatever fit of jealousy had struck at him.

By the time they found their way to the edge of the Serpentine and rejoined Céleste and a group of her friends, the afternoon sun was growing rather warm. The countess waved at them and they wandered over to meet her.