“Not particularly, no. I like my life the way it is.”
“How so?” James asked.
“I have been lucky to acquire the most loving and wonderful governess. She and Amelia adore each other. In fact, Amelia would be lost without her. She’s done such a fine job that I see no need for another mother figure. Anyway, I do not think it is fair to choose a woman only because I need a mother for Amelia. But I’m afraid I’m facing pressure to do otherwise by my father and mother. Financially speaking.”
“They’ve threatened to cut you off?” James asked. “If you do not marry.”
“That is correct. My mother’s been bereft since the death of my sister. She is not always reasonable these days.”
“Grief does that to a person,” Georgiana said.
“I plan to choose a woman to be my wife before the month’s end,”Montrose said. “And marry her in the new year.”
“You make it sound like a business transaction,” James said.
“Isn’t it?” Montrose asked. “For those of us without the luck of a love match?”
“Unfortunately, it is so much of the time,” Georgiana said.
Lady Alderidge returned, introducing herself to Montrose and offering to make introductions to several young ladies. “You must allow me to introduce you to some of the eligible women here.
“That would be most kind.” Henry straightened his shoulders as though preparing for battle rather than pleasant conversation.
Henry’s gaze followed Lady Alderidge’s to take in two women standing near the punch bowl.
“Miss Catherine Wood—such an accomplished young woman. And Lady Margaret Thornfield is next to her. She has a substantial dowry, although her disposition may be in question.”
Georgiana knew the women a little, although not well enough to form an intelligent opinion of either of them.
Miss Catherine Wood was a cheerful brunette with a lilting laugh and a talent for the pianoforte, though she had a habit of nervously smoothing her gloves and seldom looked anyone in the eye for long. Georgiana suspected she suffered from shyness.
Beside her stood Lady Margaret Thornfield. A striking beauty with golden hair pinned in elaborate curls and eyes the cool gray of winter mist. Her posture was perfect, her smile practiced to the edge of sincerity. Dressed in pale sea foam silk with pearl embellishments, she radiated exactly the kind of poise and polish Society adored. But something in the sharpness of her gaze, the subtle tilt of her chin, hinted at a nature less yielding than her manners suggested.
A shiver went up the back of Georgiana’s spine.
As Lady Alderidge led Montrose away to make the introductions, Georgiana caught sight of Cecily, radiant in deep rose silk, laughing at something Nathaniel had whispered in her ear. They moved togetherwith the easy grace of two people utterly comfortable in each other’s company. Georgiana’s heart warmed at the sight of them. If only Sophia could find the same kind of love.
But her attention was drawn back to Henry, who was now bowing over Miss Wood’s hand with perfect courtesy while his eyes remained utterly cold.
“Think no more of it tonight, dear wife,” James said into her ear. “Come and dance with me.”
The music shifted, and soon the dance floor filled. James guided her into his arms, and together they moved through the steps of a gentle country set. Laughter rippled around them. Glasses clinked. Guests swirled around them in a kaleidoscope of silk and candlelight.
But Georgiana found herself distracted, her gaze drifting once more to Henry Montrose, who was now leading Lady Thornfield onto the dance floor with the same grim efficiency he might use to sign a legal contract.
Georgiana didn’t want to worry but she did just the same.
*
The last guestshad departed, the candles in the ballroom had been extinguished, and the laughter of the evening lingered like the soft scent of roses trailing through the corridors. Upstairs, in the quiet sanctuary of their bedchamber, James sat on the edge of the bed, unfastening his cufflinks while the fire cast a golden glow across the walls. They’d sent Digby and Molly off to bed earlier, content to undress each other without help from their valet or maid.
Georgiana stood at the window, still in her gown of midnight blue silk, her hands resting on the sill as she looked out into the darkness. The moonlight silvered the gardens below, and her reflection shimmered faintly in the glass. Her fingers traced absent patterns against the cool windowpane.
“You’re quiet,” he said gently. “Are you worried about Sophia, as I am?”
She turned to him. “I am, yes. But I have other things on my mind as well.”
“Your mother’s engagement?”
