“Geese are dreadful sinners,” she said, waiting for him to turn away. He didn’t. That, in itself, was unusual—Norah drew the eye of everyone in the room, but Andrew kept his head averted, those soft brown eyes focused on her.
Rafferty had hard eyes, always wary, always alert. He’d never looked at her the way this man was looking. What was there about her to admire? And then she remembered her reflection in the mirror, so certain she was going to dazzle Rafferty.
Surely this was much more pleasant. Andrew Salton was an extraordinarily easy man to talk to, and she didn’t even notice when she ran out of cake. He did, however.
“Let me bring you more cake, Miss Georgiana,” he said. “You seemed particularly fond of the strawberry one.”
She had been particularly fond of it. But she’d been brought up with manners, so she quickly demurred. “There’s no need...”
“There’s every need. And I need to find someone to make a proper introduction—I really shouldn’t be back here with you without your parents’ approval.”
Her parents would approve of him. In fact, they’d probably approve of any halfway presentable suitor for her, not that this man was courting her, per se. Anyone but Rafferty.
She watched Andrew as he went in search of cake. He was a well-built young man, not as tall as Rafferty, more sturdily built. Rafferty was tall and lean, but Georgie suspected he would best most anyone in a fight, because he was deceptively strong. He’d carried her through the streets of London without any sign of strain, and his hands were strong, deft when he touched her, when he rubbed her feet, when he?—
“There you are, darling!” Her mother loomed up, looking formidable in a silver frock only a few years too young for her. “What are you doing, hiding out here?”
Georgie didn’t bother to state the obvious. “Eating cake,” she said with a trace of defiance.
“Of course you are,” she said soothingly, in a surprisingly good mood. “And you’ve managed to conquer at least one heart on your very first night out. Lady Tisbury made me known to a most exceptional young man named Andrew Salton. He’s the son of a vicar, but he’s also cousin to a viscount. I believe there’s some money there. He’s quite acceptable.”
“Fascinating,” Georgie said flatly.
“He wants to meet you—I hope you’ll be on your very best behavior. If we could marry you off as well, then our fortunes would very much improve.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a burden,” she said in a low voice, but her mother was paying no attention.
“Of course, he’s talking to Norah right now, so that might put an end to it. He’s not wealthy enough for Norah, but you know how she affects people. That’s the problem with having such a dazzling daughter—there’s no attention left for the pl— The younger sister.”
She was going to say “plain” and thought better of it. Georgie knew she ought to be grateful her mother was alert enough to censor herself, but her gratitude had vanished at the thought of Andrew fawning at her sister’s feet along with all the others. He would be dazzled, he wouldn’t be able to pull away from her, he would give her the strawberry cake...
“Here he is now,” her mother announced cheerfully, as Andrew emerged from the crowds of people. She waved her hand in a flirtatious gesture. “Yoo-hoo, Mr. Salton?” she said in a high-pitched voice that made Georgie want to shrink in embarrassment. “I must have you meet my younger daughter, since you were so smitten with my dear Norah.”
The cake was in one piece and so was Andrew, and there was a definite twinkle in his eye as her mother made the prescribed introductions.
“Miss Georgiana, might I interest you in a piece of cake?” he said smoothly.
“Oh, no,” her mother tittered. “Georgiana doesn’t eat cake. She’s slimming.”
Georgie wondered what might happen if she dumped the last of the champagne in her mother’s lap? She’d have to leave them alone, and Georgie could have that very substantial piece of cake in peace.
But she loved her mother, even when she said utterly stupid things, so she simply plastered on a grim smile and shook her head. In the battle between pride and cake, cake usually won, but right then she was outgunned, with her disapproving mother and a chastened Andrew Salton.
Her mother had all the charm in the family, her father had once insisted, and that night she exerted it to her full potential. Within moments, she was on the dance floor with Andrew, the cake left forgotten on one of the chairs. Georgie snatched it up before a servant could remove it but took her time eating it. Her mother would monopolize Andrew Salton for as long as she could, and Georgie wouldn’t see him again. It was a shame—if she had to have suitors, he was by far the best of the lot, but she could at least say she tried. Her father didn’t have to know she hid behind a pillar most of the evening.
Her mother returned eventually, without Andrew. “He wanted to dance with you, but I told him you weren’t officially out yet,” her mother announced, looking pleased with herself. “I must say, he’s quite delightful. Good for you for finding him.” She eyed her daughter carefully. “He might do for you. I didn’t know the son of a vicar could be quite so handsome.”
No one would do for her, except the one man who couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t. She managed an easy smile. “He was merely being kind to a wallflower.”
“Most likely,” said her mother with a singular lack of tact. “Shall we depart?”
“What about Norah?”
“Alcott will bring her home. She’s having too good a time to leave now. And don’t look at me like that—she’ll be properly chaperoned.”
“I’m sure she will,” Georgie said meekly, rising from her chair with feigned reluctance. “I am tired.”
“Such a whirlwind of gaiety,” her mother said, eying the empty cake plate beside her. “You won’t always be able to hide away like you did tonight. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to get out there like Norah.”
