Georgiana smiled and chattered and fluttered her eyelashes for the next twenty minutes, until her husband’s cousin danced with a half-smile on his face, a strange gleam in his eyes.
"La," Georgiana said, fanning her face vigorously as the music drew to a close, "I am as dry as a desert stream. I have not stopped dancing in an hour."
"May I have the honor of procuring a glass of lemonade for you?" Roger asked, the gleam deepening.
"I shall come with you," Georgiana declared, placing her hand on his arm unbidden. "Perhaps it will be cooler in the refreshment room."
They found an open alcove at one side of the ballroom in which she might drink her lemonade. They watched the dancers for a few minutes.
"And are you enjoying yourself, my dear Lady Chartleigh?" Roger asked.
"Oh yes," she said with enthusiasm, "and I do thank you, sir, for making someone aware that my husband’s family is ready to go into society again. You may call me by my given name, you know. We are cousins of a sort, are we not?"
"And so we are," he said, "Georgiana."
"All my friends call me 'Georgie'," she confided, looking archly at him over the top of her waving fan.
"Do they indeed?" he said. "And do I take it that I am being invited to join their ranks—Georgie?"
She smiled dazzlingly and leaned a little closer to him. "And will you return the compliment?" she asked. "Am I to call you 'Roger'?"
He grinned back at her and touched a finger to the tip of her nose. "I hope you will," he said. "But I tell you what, Georgie. I believe I have something of a reputation with the ladies. But I do not specialize in flirtations with married ladies, my dear, especially when they happen to be married to my favorite young cousin."
"Oh," she said, mortified, sitting quite upright again.
He laughed lightly. "Not that you are not an extremely tempting morsel, Georgie. I can see that Ralph is going to have his hands full. Is it no good, my dear?"
"Is what no good?" she asked stiffly.
"Your marriage," he said. "Is it not working out?"
"I think he is afraid of me," she almost whispered.
Roger schooled his features to remain serious. "Ralph?" he said. "Afraid of you? Do you bite?"
"Are you laughing at me?" she asked suspiciously. "I wish you would not. I am serious."
"What leads you to think he fears you, pray?" Roger asked, fascinated. He was waiting for this unusual little creature beside him to realize the glaring impropriety of this conversation and hoping that it would not be soon.
Georgiana shrugged. "I think he has not known a large number of women," she said. "I think he is afraid...I think he..."
Good God, Roger Beauchamp thought, fascinated, does she realize how much she is saying during the pauses in her speech? The full uncomfortable truth was glaringly obvious to him.
"Georgie," he said severely, "were you trying to flirt with me just now so that Ralph would feel honor-bound to challenge me and overcome his...er... fear by putting a bullet between my eyes?"
"Something like that," Georgiana admitted, spreading her fan in her lap and examining its design.
"I am honored beyond speech to think you would have chosen me for the sacrifice," he said.
"Oh," she assured him, looking up in some concern, "I did not imagine a duel or anything stupid like that. I merely thought that if Ralph saw another man interested in me, he might become angry and...and..."
He smiled at her. "You are quite out there, you know," he said. "I believe I know Ralph better than you do, Georgie. It would be much more like my noble cousin to offer you your freedom if he felt your feelings were engaged somewhere else."
"Yes," she said with a sigh, "he is very sweet and kind, is he not? And not at all selfish."
"Do I detect a note of affection for my young cousin, Georgie?" he asked.
"Oh," she said, sounding almost annoyed, "who could not feel affection for Ralph?"
