It seemed that the thought had occurred to him too. He let go of her hand suddenly, looked quickly back up into her eyes, flushed deeply, and turned abruptly away.
To the relief of both, Lord Lansbury and his wife chose that moment to return to the salon and the two young people could hide whatever they were feeling of embarrassment or guilt behind the general air of heartiness that followed Chartleigh's announcement that his proposal had been accepted.
He left fifteen minutes later, having promised to return the next day to discuss details of the wedding with the viscount.
Chapter 3
The wedding of the Honorable Georgiana Burton and Ralph Middleton, Earl of Chartleigh, took place at St. George's one month after the proposal was made and accepted. A surprising number of prominent families attended, considering the fact that it was August and most of them had to come from Brighton or one of the spas, or from their country homes. It seemed to most a celebration worth returning to London for. The bride had become a familiar figure during her one Season in town. The groom was unknown to most, but all had been aware that a young and unmarried earl was about to be launched on the market. A pity, several hopeful females thought, that he had made his choice so precipitately, without waiting to view the next year's crop of debutantes.
Ralph felt that he knew his bride no better at the end of the month than he had at the start. There was so much to be done in preparation for a wedding, he discovered that there was little time for the unimportant matter of allowing the betrothed couple some time to themselves. He had not seen a great deal of Georgiana, and when he had, they had been surrounded by family. Under such circumstances they had conversed with each other very little.
But he did not feel nearly as nervous about the wedding as he had expected to feel. And he felt no aversion to it at all. He had fallen in love with Georgiana during his second visit to her. And he looked forward with some eagerness to being married to her so that they could be alone together at last and begin to get to know each other. She was so shy, so sweetly willing to obey her parents and to give her life into his hands that he had totally forgotten his usual lack of self-confidence with females. He felt protective, very masculine. Clearly he was growing up in this respect, though he realized that he was doing so somewhat later than was usual. Stanley, he had heard, was already into the muslin company.
And Georgiana was beautiful. She was small and slim and graceful. The masses of shining dark ringlets that usually surrounded her face, her heart-shaped face itself, and her enormous dark blue eyes gave her a fragile appearance. He felt large and virile when close to her. And she was so timid, so afraid even to look at him when he spoke to her. During that second visit, he had forgotten his own nervousness as soon as his eyes fell on her slim hands, fingers clenched together or twisting the blue fabric of her gown. He had wanted to kneel before her, gather those hands into his, and assure her that it was only he. There was nothing to be afraid of.
Finally he had mustered the courage to touch her. Her hand had felt very small and trusting in his. He had kissed it. He had never taken such liberties with any female outside his own family before. He had almost done worse. He had almost kissed her lips when she had caught the lower one between her teeth. She could not have known how provocative the unconscious gesture had been. He had wanted very badly to kiss her. He had stopped himself only just in time and had been very thankful for the return of her parents to the scene. What would she have thought of him if he had given in to the urge?
In the weeks since, his love for Georgiana had grown. What had he ever done to deserve such sweet innocence? he asked himself on numerous occasions, as he observed the shy demeanor of his betrothed. Ralph had no particular interest in the grand wedding that his mother and Georgiana's parents planned with such fevered thoroughness. The countess had even put off her mourning for the occasion. What he looked forward to was driving off with his bride after the ceremony. They were to go to Chartleigh for two weeks. He had rejected the idea of taking her abroad. The political situation there was too unsettled for a lady. He would take her home, and they could get to know each other at their leisure. It was true that Gloria was coming with them, but she would not intrude. They would, in effect, be alone.
For her part, Georgiana was quite glad that the wedding was to be delayed for only one month and that in the meantime she saw very little of her betrothed. Acting a part could be an amusing challenge, but it was a boring part she played, and she was not sure she could keep it up convincingly for very long. She still hated the thought of having to marry, but she was in many ways a practical young lady. Marry she must, and the situation could be a great deal worse. She could be marrying an old man whom she would find repulsive or an overbearing man who would demand unquestioned obedience. At least she was likely to have the sort of husband whose very existence she would be able to forget for large segments of her day.
Reaction to her betrothal had not been as embarrassing as she had dreaded. In fact, she had found the dismay of Ben and Warren decidedly flattering. Neither had teased or ridiculed her about the identity of her betrothed. Neither knew much about him.
Georgiana could almost persuade herself that she would be happier once she was married. Mama was quite indulgent. She appeared to understand that one needed some freedom and some excitement in life. She did not become unduly agitated if one laughed rather too loudly at an assembly or threw one's hat down and pulled the pins out of one's hair for a gallop through Hyde Park because one could enjoy the wind better that way. But Papa was a different matter altogether. He expected one to behave like a lady all the time, even though one was only eighteen years old. And he scolded and scolded.
Chartleigh would not be like that. He had said himself that he would be an indulgent husband. And she would have known as much without his saying so. The boy was a weakling. he was quiet and gentle and kind. She would be able to get away with murder if she wished. She supposed that she would have liked a more masterful manly husband. All girls dreamed of such a man as a lover. But really, if one considered the matter practically, one must admit that it might be tedious to be tied for life to such a man. What would happen to one's freedom?
She despised Ralph a little for his apparent weaknesses, but she found that she did not dislike him as much as she had expected to do. She had stopped labeling him the beautiful boy after the afternoon of his proposal. His good looks almost invited the description, but there was nothing effeminate about his appearance. "Handsome" was not the right word to describe him. She could not think of the right word. There was a great kindliness and good nature about his face. She did not like to dwell too deeply on those attributes. If she did, she felt uncomfortably guilty about the deception she was perpetrating against him. He was going to have an awfully nasty shock when he discovered what she was really like.
His eyes! Her heart always did an uncomfortable little flip-flop on the occasions when she accidentally looked into them. It did not happen often. She did not see him often, and when she did, she continued to play the part of the meek, shrinking maiden, looking demurely at the toes of her slippers. They were dreamy eyes, wide eyes, eyes that seemed to look on the world without defenses. Most people had barriers somewhere close behind the surface of their eyes. Ralph did not.
She wished he had kissed her that afternoon. It would have been vastly amusing to witness his confusion afterward and to act out the part of the vaporish maiden. But not just that. She was curious about how he would do it. Georgiana had vast experience in the art. She had been kissed at home by a stablehand when she was fifteen, and had never reported him. The slap across his face that she had administered was punishment enough, she had decided indulgently. Besides, he had been an extremely handsome lad. And since then she had been kissed by three separate men, by Ben Creeley twice. All had been brief kisses, stolen in a darkened alcove of a hallway or an unlit corner of a garden. But she considered herself an authority.
The Earl of Chartleigh had a very kissable mouth. It was a smiling, generous mouth and, more important, a sensitive mouth. He would kiss with closed lips, of course. So did most of the others, though Ben liked to nibble her lips with his teeth. Perhaps that was why she had allowed him to trap her a second time. When would her betrothed kiss her for the first time? At the church? On their wedding night?
The bottom fell out of Georgiana's stomach at that prospect. A wedding night with the Earl of Chartleigh, a mere boy! The thought was absurd. Also a little frightening. Also just a little exciting.
As the wedding day approached, Georgiana could not decide when she should drop her mask and let the poor boy discover that he had allied himself with a talkative, restless, rebellious, bad-tempered, unladylike, vulgar hoyden. Oh dear, had Papa really used all those words to describe her? Yes, he had, and probably plenty more too if she were to think a little more carefully. She must keep up the pretense until the wedding. Papa would be in a thundering bad mood if she did anything in character before that occasion. After the wedding she would no longer be his concern. She would be answerable to her husband. Poor boy. Oh, poor boy! She felt quite sorry for him. He was really very sweet.
It had been decided—by the parents of the bride and by the groom's mother—that the couple would leave for Chartleigh immediately after the church ceremony. The wedding breakfast would proceed without their presence. Perhaps the countess felt that her elder son would not show to advantage at such a gathering, where he would be very much a focus of attention and where he might be called upon to speak in public. Perhaps the viscount felt that his daughter would not show to advantage for a very different reason. The attention focused her way might tempt her to say or do something outrageous. And though her behavior would no longer be his concern, he would feel the full shame of any vulgar display.
Gloria wanted to travel with the earl's valet and Georgiana's maid in the baggage coach, but neither her brother nor his new wife would hear of her doing so.
"One would almost think they did not wish to be alone together," Gloria said as she kissed her brother Stanley on the cheek before he handed her into the Chartleigh traveling carriage.
Stanley chuckled and bent his head to whisper in her ear. "I wouldn't be surprised if you have not hit on the truth," he said. "See if they don't invite you to share their bedchamber tonight, sis."
Gloria blushed hotly and scrambled into the carriage almost without the assistance of his hand.
Georgiana and Ralph were being kissed by what seemed to be a whole host of people. Georgiana was enjoying the ordeal hugely. Lord Stanley Middleton actually had the effrontery to kiss her on the cheek when her husband had not even kissed her face yet! She had met the younger brother only the day before. Dark like his sister, he was totally different from Chartleigh. He was three years younger—her age, in fact—but he had a great deal of swagger that made him seem older. He had eyed her appreciatively when being presented to her.
She was kissed on the hand by Cousin Roger, Lord Beauchamp, whom she was just meeting for the first time. Not that she would have particularly noticed his gesture under the circumstances. But there was the way he looked at her-one eyebrow raised, something that was not exactly a smile raising one corner of his mouth. A handsome devil. Familiar, too. Yes, of course. He had given her just such a look when she had emerged from the bushes with Ben a couple of months before at some ball or other and come face-to-face with him and another female, obviously bent on the same clandestine business. Georgiana grinned at this kindred spirit, the first public slipping of her mask for a whole month.
Finally they were in the carriage and on their way. What a relief it was to have Gloria with them, Georgiana thought. She did not wish a private three- hourtête-a-têtewith her husband just yet. It would take three hours to reach Chartleigh, she had been told. She settled herself meekly into one corner of the seat on which she sat beside her husband, careful not to touch him, careful that her profile was half-hidden from him behind the large poke of the pink frothy bonnet that Mama had insisted was perfect for the occasion. She made polite conversation with her two companions, reliving every minute detail of the wedding, wringing every possible comment out of the weather, exclaiming over every stone and blade of grass outside the windows, and generally working herself into a state of near-screaming boredom.
She did not know if she was going to like her sister-in-law. Gloria was much older than Ralph and very severe-looking. Her mouth was a mere thin line on her face. She was faultless in her manners and there was a fondness in her eyes when she looked at her brother. But Georgiana could not imagine finding much in common with the older woman. And she knew for a certain fact that Gloria would not like her. She was just the sort of female who would be all thin-lipped disapproval when Georgiana stepped out of line. And that was bound to happen soon. She could not play this demure part for much longer. She would burst.
She was beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable as well as bored. What was this marriage going to be like? She had never expected a wedding trip into the country. Somehow she had assumed that they would remain in London. She was going to be thrown into Chartleigh's company rather a lot in the next two weeks. And there was still this bother of a wedding night coming up. She really did not feel up to it. Now, if he were Ben Creeley or even Dennis Vaughan, she could have talked quite openly about her virginity and lack of experience. They could have laughed and joked about her nervousness. One of those men could have jollied her along until she would have been over the nasty experience of the first bedding almost without realizing that it had happened.
