Georgie motioned to a well-placed arbor with facing benches surrounded by her mother’s favorite iris in gold and purple and white, their blossoms nodding in a breeze. Georgie took in a calming breath, the iris scent settling her a bit. She always connected that scent with her mother, who spread calm like a balm.
Greyville settled Georgie on the bench and then sat beside her. “I had heard they were twins. The rumors don’t do them justice.”
Charlie chuckled as she took up her seat across from them. “What a lovely way you have with a euphemism, my lord.”
“They do it on purpose,” Georgie informed him, wishing there was more room on the bench. He was distracting her. “If they can keep people just a bit off-balance, they can more easily control a situation.”
“Like an unmarried marquess appearing suddenly in their salon.”
Charlie beamed. “Exactly.”
But Greyville didn’t seem to be paying attention. He was organizing himself, his focus on settling a jacket that looked just that much too big. Excellent material and tailoring, but hanging just a bit limply, which seemed to disconcert him. Old togs, Georgie suspected, from before the war. She imagined he would have felt far more comfortable in his scarlets. Still, Georgie found that she had trouble looking away from the elegant line of his hands as he shot his cuffs. He might only have been a marquess for a matter of weeks, but he had the dignity of it down quite well.
“How can we help you, Greyville?” she asked.
He looked up, surprised into another smile. “It is that obvious?”
“It is the only reason I can think you’d appear at a veritable stranger’s door this late in the day.”
“To be fair,” he said. “That stranger showed up at my door first.”
She nodded. “Point taken. I assume that this means you have visited with Priscilla?”
He scowled, taking a moment to choose his next words. “I have no taste for torturing innocents,” he said. “Especially if they are to be my wife.”
If her Aunt Berenice had not drilled posture into her head, Georgie would have slumped in relief.
“In that case,” she said, “we might have some ideas. Can you be at the Halverson ball tomorrow?”
He looked up. “I have already secured a dance with Miss Mayhew.”
Georgie nodded and pointed to Eddie who held up her list. “We have some other young ladies you might want an introduction to.”
He was looking even more uncomfortable. “I cannot break off an engagement I agreed to.”
Georgie grinned. “That’s all right. If we are very lucky, we will have Mr. Mayhew do it for you. Can you make sure you are overheard bemoaning the fact that you’ll have to spend an inordinate amount of time this next year putting the Welsh property to rights?”
He blinked. “Wales?”
“Is that not where the ducal property is?”
He looked between the three of them. “Well, yes. One of them. In the Black Mountains. I have never been there, though. I have no idea….”
“It matters not,” Eddie said, leaning forward in her enthusiasm. “Priscilla was horrified at the mere mention of Wales. She is a homebody and would wither so far away from her family. And thankfully, so would her parents. Her mother relies on her attendance on her.”
“It’s Wales,” Greyville retorted. “Not the Antipodes.”
Georgie smiled. “Maybe to someone who has traveled farther from London than Oxfordshire. We have it on good authority that even her father would be horrified to find that his daughterwould be taken so far away. I believe they assumed you would spend the majority of your time in London. Parliament and all.”
Again, Greyville looked from one cousin to the other. “You seem to be taking an unusual amount of enjoyment in my predicament.”
Charlie shrugged. “We enjoy solving conundrums.”
“Why?”
Georgie sighed. “A habit we got into at school.”
“We were called the Fairy Godmothers,” Eddie added.
