“There! I told your mother that you would desire to form a connection when the time was right.” He pressed his fingertips together. “As long as it isn’t that Frenchman.”

  “I am still making up my mind about him.”

  “Rothbury would not issue such a warning lightly.”

  “Oh, Rothbury is far too protective.”

  “He has your best interests at heart, Georgiana. As do we all.”

  She gave a slight shrug. “If you would excuse me, Papa, I have some letters to write.” Pushing her chair back, she rose to her feet and made her way upstairs to her bedchamber, her temper slightly ruffled. Her father assumed she wanted the traditional life of a married English lady when that was the last thing she desired.

  If she married Pierre Alphonse, she could leave England and live a life of relative freedom with him. He would take her along with him on his scientific expeditions. It would be the ideal arrangement, and if and when any children arrived, they could, no doubt, make some sort of arrangement with tutors and governesses.

  Pushing aside a vague sense of misgiving at the thought, Georgiana returned to her bedchamber and sat at her writing table. But her mind refused to settle on the letter she was composing to Harriet. Eventually, she shoved the page to one side and picked up the book of letters her mother had given her instead.

  Georgiana hadn’t bothered to read it since her arrival in the Capital, and she turned the pages quickly now, perusing the Reverend’s worthy prose.

  She skimmed over his words until she came to a passage about Natural History, which he described as a “particularly feminine” subject for a lady to study. He then went on to say:

  “Natural history is divided into three grand parts, as it respects the animal, the mineral, and the vegetable kingdoms. Linnaeus is the great father of this science, and from the Swedish school have issued the works of the most eminent masters. But he is too voluminous and scientific for a female, who wants only a general knowledge of nature, and not to penetrate the minutiae of her plan.”

  Georgiana threw the book across the room in disgust. Why did men always assume women had no interest in studying science in depth? Or perhaps it was only Englishmen who held such narrow views? After all, Monsieur Alphonse had spoken to her as an equal and took her opinions on Lepidoptera seriously.

  A knock sounded on the door, and her brother poked his head inside. “Good morning, Georgie. I have something for you.”

  “Oh?”

  He pushed the door open and strolled into her room, carrying a familiar-looking store-box.

  She frowned. “Why didn’t you give that back to Sir Giles?”

  “I did give it to him. He has sent it back to you with his compliments.”

  “What?”

  “He told me that as he has the collection in duplicate, he would like you to have these butterflies as a token of his appreciation for your illustrations.”

  Georgiana took the box from him. “I cannot accept such generosity.”

  “Why not? You worked hard enough on those drawings.”

  “I know, but…”

  “It is a superb collection, Georgie. I’ll take ’em if you don’t want ’em.”

  “No, no, Steve… I’ll keep them. But—” She stared into the middle distance, frowning. “I never imagined Sir Giles would give these to me.”

  “He’s a splendid chap and generous to a fault. He told me I’m free to visit his home whenever I wish to study his collections.”

  “Did you examine his tropical beetles?”

  He sank onto the armchair in the corner of the room. “I was amazed at their size. Some of them are utterly enormous. He even has a Dynastes hercules.”

  “A rhinoceros beetle?”

  “Yes. It must be seven inches in length. Sir Giles told me it is only the males who have those horns—one on the head and one on the thorax—and that he once observed two males engaged in combat to win possession of a female.”

  “It sounds rather like a duel.”

  He grinned. “That’s exactly what it’s like. Apparently these fights can cause considerable injuries. During combat, the male beetles try to pin their rivals between the horns so that they can raise them up and throw them.”

  She pulled a face. “Rather gruesome.”

  “No less gruesome than a human swordfight.” He headed back towards the door. “I’m meeting Aldwell now…” He turned back. “What on earth have you done to the poor chap? He is bewitched. I can barely get a decent sentence out of him these days.”

  Georgiana laughed. “I swear I’ve done nothing.”

  “Well, I hope you choose a suitor soon so you can put my friends out of their misery. They’ve all become dead bores since they met you.”

  After the door shut behind him, Georgiana studied the wooden panels meditatively. That Sir Giles would give her his precious specimens astonished her. Yes, he had collected the butterflies in duplicate, but he must have done so to replace any insects in his principal collection that might be lost or damaged. And now, he no longer had that protection.

  Perhaps it was his way of trying to make peace with her. If it was, it was an admirable gesture that she would accept in the spirit in which he had given it. What concerned her, however, was that she wasn’t sure if his actions could be described as merely conciliatory.

  Last night, the expression in his eyes had been disturbing, and she would be lying if she denied his effect on her. Her heart raced uncomfortably fast when he held her in his arms, and although she had done her utmost to appear aloof in his presence, she had felt the complete opposite.

  The baronet was far too attractive for her peace of mind, and she suspected he knew she wasn’t entirely indifferent to him. Hopefully, he would leave her alone from now on, but she had a nasty feeling he did not intend anything of the sort.

  Will you not give me the chance to make amends? His words flashed into her mind, and she winced. No matter how angry he made her, she could not ignore the fact that he affected her quite differently from the rest of her suitors. Even Pierre Alphonse, who anyone could see was skilled in the art of flirtation, did not make her heart flutter in the same way.

  But it would be to her detriment to forget how dreadfully Sir Giles had upset her. She was attracted to him like a moth drawn to a dangerous flame, but everyone knew that the light, so appealing to these unsuspecting creatures, killed them in the end. She would be a fool to forget that.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Giles frowned as he surveyed the gathering in Lady Hanssen’s saloon. He had started accepting more invitations to parties of this nature, hoping to encounter Georgiana Linfield at some of the entertainments. Unfortunately, he did not know if she had received an invitation to the rout this evening.

  Eventually, he spotted her in the corner of the room, conversing with her brother and some of his friends. Giles willed Georgiana to meet his gaze. However, she failed to turn her head, and his lips twisted wryly. He was well on his way to becoming one of those lovesick puppies he had always pitied.

  Hanssen came up to him. “So you accepted my mother’s invitation, old boy. Thought this was the kind of evening you despised.”

  “I do, in general. But I have a particular reason for attending tonight.”

  His friend followed his gaze. “Ah! So, you’ve decided Miss Linfield is rather charming, after all.”

  “Indeed. Along with the rest of London, it appears,” he said dryly.

  “Yes. She is quite the rage.” His eyes narrowed. “Thinking of becoming a tenant for life, old chap?”

  Giles shrugged. “I’ve attended three coming-out balls in the past week hoping to dance with Miss Linfield, but she will have none of me.”

  “What an unusual chit she must be! Usually, the ladies toss so many handkerchiefs in your direction, you’d think you were coming down with a bad cold.”

  Giles turned his head to meet his friend’s amused gaze. “The trouble is, Miss Linfield overheard our conversation outside her father’s museum when we visited Linfield Court.”

  “Oh.” Hanssen gazed meditatively into space. “How very unfortunate.” He remained silent for a minute before saying out of the corner of his mouth, “Don’t wish to give you false hope, old fellow, but Miss Linfield is looking our way. Perhaps she isn’t as averse to your attentions as you think. She did sketch your butterflies, after all.”

  “She wishes to become a scientific illustrator and is using me as the proverbial stepping stone.” Giles bowed as he spotted his cousin’s wife on the other end of the room. “I didn’t know Lady Fenmore was in Town.”

  “I saw Fenmore this morning at White’s. He told me Lady Fenmore arrived yesterday with the children.”

  “They have all recovered?”

  “I believe so, although Fenmore wants Lady Fenmore to take the air as she is rather fatigued. He suggested a drive to the Place later this week with the Rothburys. I could extend an invitation to young Linfield and his sister if you wish?”

  At Giles’s encouraging nod, Hanssen went on: “I’ll arrange for a picnic to be set up under the old oak tree in the meadow, and we could engage in a butterfly hunting expedition, perhaps?”

  “An excellent plan. Thank you, Hansy.”

  “I’ll issue the invitation to Linfield at tomorrow’s Society meeting.” His friend grinned suddenly. “Never thought to see you at the mercy of a pretty face, old boy!”

  The next evening, Giles entered the House of the Linnean Society in Gerrard Street in Soho. The organisation’s Secretary planned to read Giles’s paper to the assembled members and their guests shortly, and a large crowd had already gathered in the common meeting-room for the event.

  A group was clustered around a wooden table in the corner, where Giles’s South American butterfly specimens were on display. He was about to join them when Stephen Linfield came up to him with a friendly greeting. Before he could reply to the younger man, the Society’s Secretary stopped beside them, looking flustered. “I am most concerned, Sir Giles. It appears that someone has taken your collection. It was on that table just a moment ago, but now it has disappeared. Let me make an announcement. Perhaps someone unfamiliar with the Society’s etiquette has carried the box off to another part of the room.”

  Giles followed the Secretary to the front of the chamber, but before the man garnered the attention of the crowd, the Librarian approached them. “I have found the specimens, sir. They were on a chair at the back of the room. I have returned them to the display table.”

  The Secretary frowned. “I am relieved! But it is most vexing that they were taken in the first place. Before I read Sir Giles’s paper, I shall reiterate to our members that they must not touch the specimens on display.” He sniffed. “One would think they would know better by now.”

  The Secretary hushed the crowd before presenting the paper in his dry, solemn voice, rendering it as dull as ditchwater. But the facts presented in the article must have been of some interest to the assembled gathering as several gentlemen, including Hanssen and the Linfields, clustered around Giles after the reading ended to discuss its contents.

  “You’re in luck,” Hanssen said much later as they left the Society’s premises. “Stephen Linfield has expressed an interest in attending the picnic. He says he’ll bring his sister along if she hasn’t any prior engagements, and subject to Lady Linfield’s amenability to the idea, of course.”

  A ghost of a smile played about Giles’s lips as he murmured his thanks. Hopefully, he would soon persuade Georgiana Linfield that he wasn’t the ill-mannered boor she believed him to be.

  ***

  Georgiana sat beside Stephen as he tooled his curricle along the turnpike road leading southwest out of London towards the town of Epsom. Breathing in the fresh, crisp air, she gazed at the Surrey scenery gently engulfing them as they left the bustling Metropolis behind.

  How wonderful to be in the countryside again after so many months of city living! She had missed being out in the open, free from the restrictions of Society, where nothing mattered except her natural surroundings and the treasures waiting to be discovered behind every leaf and blade of grass.

  As they drew closer to their destination, groves of beech and ash trees spread out on either side of them. Fields and meadows, separated by hedgerows, stretched to the hills beyond.

  Less than an hour after they clattered over London Bridge, Stephen turned into the gates of Hanssen Place. A groom on horseback awaited them there, and he led them along a twisting road through a park of well-grown elms, poplars, and oaks, where large numbers of deer grazed on the grass.

  Eventually, the road led onto open ground. The groom stopped beside a verdant meadow dominated by an enormous oak in its centre. A footman, who stood to one side, assisted Georgiana down from the carriage while another groom took possession of the team of horses.

  “Don’t forget our nets,” Georgiana called to Stephen as Lord Hanssen and another gentleman approached them.

  Their host bowed and smiled. “Welcome to my home, Miss Linfield. May I introduce Lord Fenmore to you?”

  Georgiana curtseyed and murmured a polite how-do-you-do as Lord Fenmore bowed in her direction. And then Stephen walked around the curricle, and they all strolled towards the oak tree, where a young, elegantly dressed matron was seated on a chair under its extensive branches.

  “Lady Fenmore! Pray allow me to present Miss Linfield and Mr Linfield.” Lord Hanssen said.

  Georgiana curtseyed again as the older lady rose to her feet. “I have heard so much about you, Miss Linfield.” Her gaze swept from Georgiana to Stephen. “Rothbury is my husband’s cousin, and he speaks of you often.” She indicated a fair young lady dressed in an exquisitely embroidered sprigged muslin gown who stood a short distance away. “This is my cousin, Miss Hamilton. She is staying with me at present.”

  After the introductions, Lady Fenmore smiled. “Let us sit down, my dear, and have a comfortable cose. How are you enjoying your Season? I am afraid I have missed most of it as my children have been laid low with the measles.”

  Georgiana was answering her question when another curricle drew up at the edge of the meadow. She blinked when she spotted the man in the driving seat. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see Sir Giles here as he was a good friend of Lord Hanssen’s, but Stephen had made no mention of his attendance today.

  After greeting Lady Fenmore and Miss Hamilton, Sir Giles turned to Georgiana. “Your servant, Miss Linfield.”

  She inclined her head coolly. “Sir Giles.”

  “I see you brought your nets. If I may, I should like to join you in a hunt.”

  She made no reply, but Stephen jumped into the awkward silence. “Of course, Sir Giles! We shall welcome your expertise.”

  Cassy and Rothbury arrived a few moments later, and Georgiana was grateful for the rapid expansion of their party. Perhaps she should remain with the ladies today. While she hated to forfeit this precious opportunity to hunt for Flies, she did not intend to spend any time with Sir Giles if she could avoid it.

  Stephen stood in conversation with the baronet, but hurried over to her after a time, his face lit with excitement. “Sir Giles tells me that he’s found Purple Emperors here in the past.”

  Georgiana’s eyes widened. The Emperor was the elusive prize every butterfly hunter aspired to collect. The males, with their famous iris sheen, were more sought after than the females. However, they usually fluttered in the tops of trees, defending their territory, and descended only on occasion to drink or feed. Hence, they were notoriously difficult to capture. She frowned suddenly. “Isn’t it too early for them to be out?”

  “Yes, but we can hunt for their larvae and breed ’em. And Peacocks, Brimstones, and Red Admirals abound at this time of year. Should we go?”

  Georgiana looked guiltily at Lady Fenmore and Cassy, who had been listening to their conversation. Her sister-in-law laughed. “Do go, Georgie. I know it will be torture to stay here now that you know what treasures await you.”

  “I won’t be away for long.” Georgiana smiled gratefully. She joined Stephen, who held their nets and a jam jar for any possible finds.

  “This is an excellent collecting-ground for larvae,” Sir Giles said. “Have you reared butterflies in the past, Miss Linfield?”

  She met his eyes for a brief moment. “Yes, of course.”

  Miss Hamilton, who had moved closer to Cassy and Lady Fenmore, smiled winsomely up at the baronet. “May I join your party, Sir Giles?”

  Lady Fenmore frowned. “But your slippers, Caro… they are so delicate. I doubt you will be able to walk very far. Miss Linfield’s shoes are much sturdier.”

  An expression of distaste spread over Miss Hamilton’s face as she peered at Georgiana’s sensibly shod feet.

  “I am wearing my stoutest shoes,” Georgiana said cheerfully, following the direction of the young woman’s gaze. “They are for country walking and have no pretence to fashion.”

  “They are certainly very…durable.” Miss Hamilton’s nose wrinkled.

  “I’m afraid if you wish to pursue an interest in insects, you will need to find some practical footwear,” Georgiana said. “It is a prerequisite for walking on rough, uneven ground.”

  Miss Hamilton shook her head. “I do not own any shoes quite like that.” Her expression implied that she didn’t want to.

  “If you would prefer to examine insects that have already been captured, Miss Hamilton, you should visit the British Museum to view Sloane’s natural history collections,” Sir Giles said quietly.

  Lady Fenmore nodded. “An excellent idea, Sir Giles. Perhaps we could make up a party later in the week if you and Mr Linfield would be so obliging as to be our guides?”

  The baronet bowed. “Of course. It would be my pleasure.”

  “I would be delighted to show you the museum’s beetles, Miss Hamilton,” Stephen said. “That is my particular field of interest.”

  “Beetles?” Her voice squeaked.

  “There are some splendid specimens on display.”

 

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