"Oh, pray be serious," she said crossly. "We have much to arrange and should really not be gone from the house for longer than an hour. That would not be proper, especially as the park is virtually deserted at this time of year. You see, I do know something of propriety."
"You could have deceived me by what you have chosen as a topic of conversation for this afternoon," Roger said fervently. "How would you get out of Middleton House to keep your assignations, Georgie? And how get back home again? Have you thought of that?"
"Well, of course I have thought of that!" Georgiana said. "Do you take me for a complete clothhead, Roger? I have a faithful maid, who used to help me escape from Papa's house all the time when I was sent to my room for various offenses. And though I was punished numerous times, it was never for one of those escapades. I was never caught. And as for getting to the rendezvous, wherever that is, why, you will escort me there and back, of course, Roger."
"Ah, of course," he said. "I have nothing better to do with my evenings than to drive mistresses around London in search of their lovers."
"Well, I imagine you will have to make some sacrifice of your time," Georgiana said kindly. "But you will do it for your favorite cousin, will you not?"
"For you?" he asked, aghast.
"No, silly," she said. "But you told me yourself that Ralph is your favorite cousin. And all this is for the sake of his happiness, you know."
Roger sighed. "Do you know, Georgie," he said, "before I met you, my life was deliciously uncomplicated. I do wish I had not seen you emerging from those bushes looking shockingly disheveled-with Creeley, was it? If I had not, you see, I might not have particularly noticed you at your wedding and I might not have even recognized you in the park with your sister afterward. And I might not be sitting here now concocting the most outrageous plot with you. You are a most degrading influence on me, you know. I have never even broached such topics with a delicately nurtured female before. You are not even supposed to know about such things as assignations and mistresses."
"I know," she said. "It comes of enjoying male company far more than female, I suppose. All my closest friends are men. And sometimes they seem to forget to whom they are talking."
"Yes," he said dryly, "I know the feeling."
"Well, "she said briskly, "is everything settled?"
"You are quite mad, Georgie," he said. "You can’t be serious about all this, can you?"
She gave him a speaking look. "Would I have said all I have said in jest?" she asked. "You must get everything arranged, Roger. You will let me know where and when. Only let it be soon. Once I have set my mind on a thing, I am all impatience until it is accomplished."
Good God!" said Roger Beauchamp, giving his horses the signal to move more briskly. "I must be as mad as the lady. I am actually thinking out ways and means already."
"Of course you are," Georgiana assured him.
Ralph could not quite believe that this was actually happening. He was still close to convincing himself that he had not finally made up his mind, that he could put an end to this ridiculous scheme at any moment and forget the whole thing. He had never actually said yes to Roger, had he? Had he not merely agreed that his cousin might talk to the dancer he had seen at the opera to find out a little more about her? He had also said that Roger might discuss terms, but only so that he would know what was expected of him if he ever did decide to engage her as a mistress. And he had agreed that the house in Kensington would probably be an ideal site for a liaison. But he had not actually told Roger to prepare the house or to make any definite arrangements with the girl. Had he?
Why was it, then, that he was in his carriage on the way to Kensington at a time of night when he should be at home in his own room? Why had he told Georgiana that he was going to White's? He had gone there for a while, it was true, on Roger's advice, but he had known that he had essentially been telling a lie.
He could not go back now, however much he tried to persuade himself that he might. The girl was there waiting for him if Roger was to be believed. This was the night. He would be there with her in no more than ten minutes' time. And he had very little wish to be. It was as if he had lived in some kind of dream for the past week.
He had made a determined effort to set his life in some sort of order again. He had continued to spend much of his time in the House of Lords. He had never taken much interest in affairs of state, but it was his duty to do so. He must learn how to play his role in society. There must be all sorts of problems to which to devote his energies. He could not justify his life of luxury and idleness. In a short time he had learned more about the deplorable conditions under which the less privileged lived than he had ever dreamed. Chimneysweeps, factory workers, vagabonds, workhouse dwellers: all lived lives of unimaginable poverty, drudgery, and suffering. Children seemed to be especial victims of poverty.
Ralph was not at all sure yet that there was anything he could do about the situation. One man felt so helpless against such a huge national problem. But he felt that he had discovered some purpose for his life.
He had taken to attending Jackson's boxing saloon as many mornings as he could. He had never particularly enjoyed physical activity. He was a reader and a thinker rather than a doer. But he knew with his mind that physical fitness and a certain amount of physical strength were necessary. He set about building that fitness and that strength. His sparring partners were not Jackson's most talented boxers, by any means, but only that morning the great man himself had stood and watched him for a minute, laughed heartily at the end of it, and commented that in a few months’ time, if his lordship continued to improve, he would take upon himself the pleasure of leveling him.
And even in his home, Ralph was trying to bring some sort of order. It was clear that there would be no peace as long as he and Georgiana lived with his mother. It had not occurred to him after the death of his father to claim Middleton House or Chartleigh for his own and to suggest that his mother move elsewhere. They were her homes, though with his head, he supposed he had realized that they now belonged to him.
But now he began to think that his mother must make her home somewhere else. There was a dower house at Chartleigh, which was an attractive and imposing mansion in its own right. He sent a message to his bailiff to look over the house and estimate what repairs, renovations, changes, and additions might have to be made if his mother were to take up residence there. He had visited Parker to ask advice on the renting or leasing of a suitable establishment in London.
He was not at all sure how his mother would react to his plans. He must be sure to break the news to her well in advance of the move. It would be cruel to make plans behind her back, as if he were trying secretly to get rid of her. He guessed that she would be most upset at first. He also believed that once she grew accustomed to the change, she would be the happier. Part of the reason for her bad temper lately was surely her knowledge that she was no longer mistress in the house that had been her home since her marriage. It must be hard for her to step down in favor of Georgiana, who was so very young.
Gloria's future seemed well in hand. She had received a letter from Boscome the day before, confirming that the date for the wedding had been set and the bishop engaged to perform the ceremony. Gloria was in the process of drawing up a list of wedding guests.
Stanley seemed to be no particular problem, though Ralph deplored the fact that his younger brother appeared content to be an idle and fashionable young man about town. He flatly refused to go to university. But he seemed amiable enough, if somewhat empty headed. Doubtless he would move in with his mother, though Ralph had no objection to his staying at home.
Finally, then, he seemed to be taking charge of his own life again. Finally he felt he was quite outgrowing his boyhood and his dependence on the decisions of other people. Except for the one area of his life that had always been his problem. Except for his marriage.
Nothing had improved in that relationship. There had been an almost total breach of communication between him and his wife since their quarrel the week before. They usually dined together and occasionally breakfasted together. They spoke to each other enough to satisfy good manners. They had attended Mrs. Hoby's soiree together the evening before. But there was no communication whatsoever. They never looked into each other's eyes. There was never a hint of anything personal in their conversation. They never touched.
There was a tension between them that was imposing a strain on both their nerves. Georgiana was quiet. He had not seen her smile in more than a week, except at the soiree. She had smiled there at her sister and at Roger. And he found himself totally unable to relax in her presence. He would have liked to warm the atmosphere a little, to say something to her that would show that he cared. But he could never think of a single thing to say, incredible as it might seem. He loved her, but he felt that there was a huge, invisible stone wall between them.
Hence this mad journey to Kensington, Ralph thought with a sigh. He desperately needed someone with whom he could communicate, even if only on a purely physical level. He needed this girl. Not emotionally. He did not crave a relationship. All his emotions were already centered on his wife. He needed contact with a woman, with no barriers between.
