Georgie almost lied. He was a deserter. He beat his wards. He enjoyed abnormal bed sport that involved whips and cheese.
In the end, though, she couldn’t. He didn’t deserve it. “Not that I am aware of.”
“And you get along with his little wards?”
Georgie sighed. “I do.”
But she didn’t ask if Georgie got along with their guardian. She didn’t ask if Georgiewantedto get along with their guardian. But then, Georgie suspected that wouldn’t have helped. She would have to tell the truth about that as well.
Her mother put down the letter she’d been reading and considered Georgie rather as she had back when Georgie had tried to skip French lessons. “Then what reason could there be to refuse a marquess who is also a war hero his request for your hand?”
“Reason?” Besides the fact that she had dreamed of escaping for years, which her mother would not understand? “I don’t know him.”
Her mother, who knew all about the dispatches that had been pored over, simply raised an eyebrow.
Georgie huffed in frustration. “You know perfectly well that competence at war does not necessarily indicate a good character.”
“Then how did you come to introduce him to your aunt and myself?”
Georgie sighed in frustration. “I have met him a sum total of three times, Mother.”
Her mother’s smile was too knowing. “You seem to have gotten along.”
Again, Georgie was relieved that she didn’t blush. “That is not a compelling enough reason to marry.”
Her mother shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt.”
For a very long moment Georgie and her mother simply considered each other. “Am I to have no say in this?” Georgie finally asked, feeling as if her insides were being hollowed out.
Her mother’s expression never changed. But her mother had decades of practice at that particular skill. “Go see your grandmother,” she said. “The two of you have always sung asimilar tune. Besides,” she said with a long-suffering sigh. “She’ll wish you to make the announcement.”
Georgie gave herself away with a smile.
She should have known better.
“After you have accepted the Marquess’s proposal.”
“Must I?”
Getting to her feet, her mother collected her correspondence and gave Georgie one last smile. “Convents are dismal. You wouldn’t like it there.”
And that was it. Georgie was trapped.
It becameofficial two hours later. Grey didn’t see Georgie when he was ushered into the house by the very correct butler or when he was led up to the Earl’s study. In fact, he saw no one as he waited for the Earl to put in an appearance. At least Reems knew to bolster Grey’s courage with another snifter of brandy.
“A little early,” the very precise butler allowed with a perfectly straight face. “But it is a portentous day. We on the staff only wish the very best for our Lady Georgie.”
And damn if Grey didn’t suspect he’d just been warned to behave. “I do as well,” he responded, wondering if he could empty and refill his glass before the Earl arrived.
The butler nodded as if dispensing a blessing. “Your home will prosper under her hand.”
And that was that. The butler processed out and Grey waited another twenty minutes, enough time to peruse from his seat the shelves of books behind the desk. If he wasn't mistaken, there were some very valuable books keeping company there. There were more under glass in the corner away from the light that appeared to be illustrated manuscripts. Grey didn’t have thecourage to get up and wander to verify his impression. But the sight of the collection intrigued him.
He had just taken his first sip of brandy and set the glass on the mahogany desk when the door opened.
“A little early, what?”
Grey fought to urge to jump to his feet. He rose with decorum to face the man he was more and more convinced would be his father by marriage.
