Falling for the forbidde.., p.4
Falling for the Forbidden Duke, page 4
‘And as for her embroidery, it is unsurpassed.’
Georgina wanted to throw her bread roll at Lady Dallington and tell her to stop trying so hard to sell her daughter.
‘In that case,’ the Duke said to Olivia, ‘I look forward to seeing your unsurpassed embroidery and your paintings that are unlike any other.’
Olivia blushed slightly and smiled in gratitude at the Duke, causing Georgina to relax slightly. The Duke was not affronted by Lady Dallington’s boorishness, and she was pleased to see him and Olivia exchange a delightful moment.
‘And Olivia is such a keen rider, and a wonderful horsewoman,’ Lady Dallington continued.
Both Georgina’s and Olivia’s spoons froze halfway to their mouths, and Olivia sent Georgina another stricken look.
‘I’m pleased to hear that, Lady Olivia,’ the Duke said. ‘I too love to ride and have a large stable of horses. Perhaps we could ride out tomorrow.’
That would have been an excellent idea and would give the Duke and Olivia a chance to spend time away from the Countess’s constant interruptions. Except for one major problem. Olivia had a fear of horses and had not ridden since she’d fallen off her pony when she was a child. Georgina had to wonder whether the Countess was blind to her daughter’s problems, simply stupid, or a combination of the two. Or was she so determined to capture the Duke for Olivia that she would say or do anything, even tell outright lies?
‘Perhaps,’ Olivia murmured.
The Duke gave her a curious look then turned to Georgina. ‘And do you ride, Miss Daglish?’
‘Yes,’ she said, knowing that to elaborate would not only incur the wrath of Lady Dallington but would also take the attention away from her sister. Georgina’s mother had insisted she become an expert horsewoman, along with taking lessons in painting and piano. She had also been taught to converse in French, Italian and German. These were all skills her mother had deemed essential if she was to one day become the mistress of a wealthy and influential man.
‘Then you must feel free to avail yourself of the horses whenever you choose.’ He smiled at both Georgina and Olivia. ‘I will let the stable hands know.’
‘Thank you,’ Georgina said quietly, keeping her enthusiasm to herself. It would be wonderful if she could escape this stifling atmosphere, get some time alone and once again feel the wind through her hair.
The Duke turned his attention back to her, and she realised that, despite her attempt to maintain an impassive expression, she was smiling. She quickly looked down and focused on the next course of crumbed sole.
Stop looking at me, she wanted to cry out.
His attention should be fixed exclusively on Olivia. Not just because she hoped they would be compatible and Olivia would find her ideal husband, not just because any attention he showed her would elicit the anger of Lady Dallington, but mainly because each time those dark brown eyes fixed on her it caused disconcerting feelings to ripple throughout her body. A feeling that would be inappropriate at any time, but never so much when seated at a stilted dinner party.
His attention remained on her for a second or two longer, before he turned back to Olivia. Georgina briefly placed her hand on her stomach and quietly released a held breath.
‘And will the Rosemont ball be the first of the Season again this year?’ Lady Dallington asked, interrupting the quiet conversation between the Duke and Olivia.
‘It will, and we’re hoping to make this one special,’ the Duchess said. ‘It will be your first ball, won’t it, Lady Olivia?’
‘Oh, yes, and I’m so looking forward to it. Aren’t we, Georgina?’
‘Gina will not be attending,’ Lady Dallington cut in. ‘It is for debutantes only.’
The Duke’s jaw clenched slightly at the Countess’s lack of manners, and he turned to Georgina. ‘Will you not be having a coming out?’
‘Wards do not get presented to the Queen,’ Lady Dallington answered for her.
The Duke’s grip on his knife and fork tightened and he looked down the table at Lady Dallington. ‘I had assumed that, despite not being a debutante, Miss Daglish would be allowed to answer questions when asked.’
Georgina bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. This exchange was going to draw enough ire from Lady Dallington as it was, so her smiles would only intensify the woman’s wrath.
‘Of course she is, Your Grace.’ Lady Dallington sent the Duke a fawning smile. ‘Gina, answer His Grace when he asks you a question.’
‘No, I will not be coming out,’ she said. ‘As Lady Dallington said, debuts are for debutantes. I am no debutante.’
‘But she’ll be attending the balls as my chaperone,’ Lady Olivia added.
‘Then it will be a delight to see you both at the Rosemont ball,’ the Duke responded before Lady Dallington was able to speak.
Instead, the Countess snapped her mouth closed, her lips becoming pinched. Georgina had little doubt that Lady Dallington was about to inform the party that Georgina would not be attending. But that decision had been taken from her. The Duke himself had all but invited her to the Rosemont ball. Lady Dallington would not defy a duke, particularly one she hoped would marry her only daughter.
It was kind of Olivia to include her, and she did take some satisfaction in the Duke’s standing up for her and putting Lady Dallington in her place, but Georgina had no desire to attend the Rosemont ball or any other.
She knew exactly what would happen if she did. The women would shun her, seeing her as a threat, while the men would take the opportunity to openly assess her, wondering whether they should attempt to take her as their own mistress. Everyone would know her background and would make the assumption that she would eventually make her living in the same manner as her mother.
She hoped that the Duke did not see her in that way. She would never be any man’s mistress and most certainly not the mistress of the man who would hopefully marry Olivia.
But it was nice to see Lady Dallington’s expression when he had defended her, even if Georgina needed no one fighting her battles. She had swallowed Lady Dallington’s insults for the last five years. She could continue to do so for a few more months, before she got her freedom.
Conversation resumed, and fortunately no more attention was paid to Georgina through the remainder of the dinner, but the Duke’s attempts to make conversation with Olivia were constantly thwarted by Lady Dallington’s unwanted interruptions.
Seated next to him, Georgina could sense the Duke’s increasing frustration.
He said nothing, and outwardly did nothing, but his long fingers gripped his knife and fork more tightly each time Lady Dallington spoke, while the edges of his lips curled down into a slight frown.
Georgina wished she could take control of the conversation and direct it away from Lady Dallington. Instead of constantly praising her daughter, Lady Dallington should be trying to find an area that would engage both Olivia and the Duke in conversation, without all this strain.
Making people comfortable, especially men, was one of the many accomplishments at which Georgina’s mother had excelled. Her dinner parties had been lively affairs, where people conversed, laughed and enjoyed themselves, including the Earl. Whereas tonight the Earl was sitting at the end of the table, looking as uncomfortable as everyone else.
There had never been this tension, this awkwardness at her mother’s dinner parties. Once again Georgina had to pity Lady Dallington. She was trying so hard and failing so dismally.
Finally the tedious meal came to an end, and they retired back to the drawing room. The Duke led Olivia to a settee and sat beside her. Georgina hoped that Lady Dallington had the sense to sit at a discreet distance from the couple. But no, she placed herself in the chair opposite and continued talking.
Olivia and Georgina rolled their eyes at each other, expressing their mutual frustration, as Georgina took her place at the grand piano.
While she played, she watched the others interact. This really was hopeless. Olivia sat in silence while her mother continued chatting. Even the Duchess, the Duke and the Earl eventually conceded defeat and sank into silence, the Earl looking around as if wishing he were somewhere, anywhere else, while the Duke and Duchess politely listened to Lady Dallington.
Poor Olivia was looking exceedingly tired, more so than could be simply the result of being bored by her mother. This really was becoming an excruciating ordeal for her sister.
When she sneezed Georgina stopped playing and crossed over to her, even though she knew such interference would incense Lady Dallington.
‘Are you all right?’ the Duke asked, also standing.
‘She’s perfectly well,’ Lady Dallington answered, just as Olivia sneezed again. ‘There’s no need to fuss,’ she said, flicking her hand at Georgina in dismissal.
‘I’m fine,’ Olivia said, dabbing her nose with her lace handkerchief. ‘Georgina, please, continue playing. It’s lovely.’
Georgina waited, to ensure Olivia was quite well, then returned to the piano. Perhaps she was fussing too much. It was just a few sneezes, but Olivia also looked fatigued and she knew Lady Dallington would not notice that she was putting her daughter under a great deal of pressure.
But the Duke did notice. ‘After your journey I am sure you would all wish to retire early,’ he said, taking Olivia’s hand and helping her to her feet.
Georgina cast a glance at the clock ticking away on the mantel. It was just gone eleven o’clock, much earlier than they would normally retire, but he was the Duke and nobody was about to argue with him.
The others stood up and said their goodnights. The moment they left the drawing room, Olivia had yet another sneezing fit. ‘Are you sure you are quite well?’ Georgina asked.
‘I told you not to fuss,’ Lady Dallington said. ‘It’s just nerves. And you’re not helping, monopolising attention with your piano playing and making my daughter look bad. Why couldn’t you say you didn’t know how to play the piano?’
‘I believe Georgina did Olivia a great service by playing,’ the Earl said before Lady Dallington could admonish her further. ‘You had somewhat overstated your daughter’s musical abilities.’
Lady Dallington’s lips pursed tightly, but she said nothing.
‘And it does look like Olivia could use an early night,’ the Earl added. ‘So, let us retire.’ With that, he took his wife’s arm and hurried her away.
Olivia sneezed again and giggled. ‘At least my sneezing got us out of that,’ she said, pointing at the drawing room.
‘But you do look tired, Olivia. Perhaps an early night would be best,’ Georgina said.
‘But not before you join me in my bedchamber. We need to discuss the Duke. You still haven’t told me what you think of him.’
‘I believe we should leave that until tomorrow, as you need your rest.’ Georgina was taking the coward’s way out. She did not want to discuss the Duke, tonight or at any other time. She would rather not even think about him, and most certainly did not want to tell her sister that when he looked at her it was as if the temperature inexplicably went from that of winter to that of a scorching summer’s day.
No, she most certainly would not be telling Olivia any of that.
* * *
Luther collapsed back into his chair the moment the guests left and frowned at his mother.
‘Lady Olivia is lovely,’ she said. ‘Do not let the mother put you off. If every man who didn’t like his future mother-in-law failed to wed, the world would be full of bachelors.’
Luther laughed and stretched out his legs in front of him, finally feeling as if he could relax. If nothing else, it had certainly been an interesting evening. He had not expected to spend it listening to the daughter of a courtesan play the piano so sublimely. Nor would he have expected a young woman from such a background to be so demure and ladylike. Although that demureness always appeared to be one of deliberate control. It was as if a flame was smouldering beneath the surface, one which she was preventing from igniting into an inferno by sheer will power.
‘So, the unfortunate mother aside, does she meet with your approval?’
‘Yes,’ was his immediate answer as he thought of Miss Daglish’s confident expression as her long, elegant fingers swept over the piano keyboard. He could not remember when he had heard Bach played so exquisitely.
‘Good, I thought she would. She’s so pretty and sweet.’
Sweet? Luther shook his head and almost laughed at his mistake. How could he possibly have thought his mother was asking about Miss Daglish? And sweet was not a word he would use to describe her, nor his reaction every time he looked at her. Sweet, that most certainly was not.
‘I’m so pleased that finally a debutante meets with your approval. I think you should propose as soon as possible because she’s going to be quite sought after this Season. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could make the announcement of your engagement at the Rosemont ball? What a glorious start that would be to the Season.’
‘Hmm,’ Luther gave as a non-committal answer. It would be good to avoid yet another Season being chased by those competing debutantes, and he had no objections to Lady Olivia. She appeared to have every attribute he sought in a future wife. Breeding, a pretty countenance and she was most certainly agreeable. He could imagine the man who married her would find he had a companionable wife and it would be a most satisfactory arrangement. And, as Lady Dallington had mentioned several times, she had four younger brothers, and the women on both sides of the family were known for producing large families of sons.
Luther usually found it easy to fault the debutantes who were paraded before him each Season, but he was finding it hard to fault Lady Olivia. She was delightful and, while it was obvious she was trying to make a good impression on him, there was none of that annoying desperation he often saw in debutantes.
‘You can’t deny, she would make an ideal Duchess of Rosemont.’
His mother’s statement drew another hmm from Luther.
‘Or would you rather go through another Season?’ She gave him a knowing smile, which he acknowledged with a grimace.
His mother was right. He should be more enthusiastic. Lady Olivia was indeed an ideal future Duchess of Southbridge. He should make his approval clear, court her, marry her, produce the requisite heir and spare, and his duty would be done.
Unfortunately, it was hard to concentrate on Lady Olivia’s finer points when he was constantly distracted by the other young lady’s presence. He was sure if she was not accompanied by Miss Daglish, he would be more enthusiastic about this arrangement.
This was all wrong. He was supposed to be courting the respectable debutante, not having lustful thoughts about her illegitimate half-sister.
‘I was surprised the Earl brought his ward with him,’ Luther said.
And I wish to hell he hadn’t.
‘Yes, but the two young women do seem to be very close.’
‘Almost like sisters.’
His mother said nothing, but raised her eyebrows, which spoke volumes. The true relationship between the Earl and Miss Daglish’s mother was obviously not lost on her.
‘The Earl is to be commended for his generosity in making her his ward.’ His mother’s statement contained more than it said. Luther’s father was also known to have more than one mistress. He had even bragged about it to Luther. It was something about which Luther was certain his mother knew and had no choice but to accept.
A man’s right to a mistress was yet another lesson his father had tried to instil in him. The wife of a duke must be respectable, but that did not mean he could not have fun with other, less respectable women. And a well-trained wife of an aristocrat knew her place and accepted that men had their needs, or so his father said.
Luther had always abhorred his father’s attitude. As a young boy he had witnessed his mother begging her husband not to leave again. His father’s lack of compassion for his distraught wife had shocked Luther to the core. Instead of relenting he had told his wife to remember her place, then disappeared for one of his protracted visits to London.
His mother had eventually remembered her place, accepted the situation and thrown herself into caring for her three sons. But the stricken look on her face was etched into Luther’s memory. Despite what his father had told him, he would never do that to any woman.
While he couldn’t admire the Earl for his indiscretions, he did have to respect him for taking responsibility for his illegitimate offspring. Perhaps it reflected the high regard in which he held Miss Daglish’s mother.
‘And whatever Miss Daglish’s origins might be, it is hardly the fault of the child,’ his mother continued. He heard the note of pain in his mother’s voice as she no doubt wondered how many other children her husband had fathered and abandoned.
She leant forward in her chair, her brow furrowed. ‘I hope you’re not judging Lady Olivia harshly because of her association with Miss Daglish.’
‘No. Never,’ Luther shot back, affronted by the accusation. ‘I agree with you entirely that one should not be judged by the actions of one’s parents, and if anything I admire Lady Olivia more for her obvious friendship and affection for her half...for her father’s ward.’
‘I should hope so.’ She sat back in her chair. ‘Now, let’s forget all about Miss Daglish and her unfortunate origins. It is Lady Olivia you need to focus on.’
Luther nodded but suspected that forgetting all about Miss Daglish was not going to be as easy as his mother seemed to assume.
‘I’m sure once you get to know her better, once you have spent time with her away from her mother, you will see just how perfect she is for you. Or would you rather go through another Season in the hope of finding an even more perfect Duchess of Southbridge?’
She smiled as Luther rolled his eyes. ‘Good, so no more talk of Miss Daglish. Focus all your attention on wooing the lovely Lady Olivia.’
