Page 14 of A Scarred Wallflower for the Duke
“Are you all right, Georgina, dear?” asked the Dowager Viscountess. “You seem a little out of sorts this morning.”
Georgina forced a smile. “Yes, Grandmother. I am quite all right. Just thinking over the ledgers.”
Marcus’s shoulders drooped. “Have I done something foolish again?”
“No.” Georgina gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.It is I who has done something foolish.
On the other side of the table, Lydia was playing her role with a touch too much gusto. Sips of her tea and minuscule bites of egg were interspersed with heavy sighs and stoic gazes toward the ceiling. Georgina kicked her under the table.
As they were finishing the meal, the echo of the brass knocker rang through Thomson House. Lydia sat up straight in her chair, while Georgina’s heart began to thump. Ridiculous! Anyone would think she truly was about to meet with a potential husband. She could not deny this desire to see the Duke of Levinton gone from their lives was truly taking its toll on her.
Jensen, the butler, appeared in the doorway. “My Lord, My Lady. The Baron of Renshaw is here.”
The Dowager Viscountess shot a poisonous gaze in Lydia’s direction. “Lydia. I will not tell you again. Your relationship with Lord Renshaw is over. If he calls here again, I shall—”
“Forgive me, My Lady,” Jensen spoke up. “Lord Renshaw is here for Miss Georgina.”
The Dowager’s eyebrows rose to her gray hairline. “For Miss Georgina?” she repeated, as though sure she had misheard.
“Yes, My Lady. Shall I ask him to leave?” The Dowager’s eyes darted between Georgina and Lydia.
“He is here for Georgina?” Lydia squeaked, doing her best to sound betrayed. “How could he… That scoundrel! That dreadful, scandalous rake! How could I have given such a man my heart?” With a theatrical flounce, she got to her feet and rushed out of the dining room. Georgina groaned inwardly. She would have to have a word with her sister later about toning down her performance a little.
The Dowager Viscountess ignored Lydia’s theatrics. “Did you know anything of this?” she asked Georgina.
“No, Grandmother. Not at all.” She gave her what she hoped was a desperately imploring expression. “May I be permitted to speak with him?”
The Dowager shook her head slightly as if struggling to make sense of what was happening. Was it truly so unfathomable that a man might have an interest in her?Of course, it is unfathomable. No man of the ton would want a wife who looks like me.
She got to her feet, pushing her self-pity aside. “Grandmother?” she prodded.
“Oh. Yes. Yes, Georgina. Of course, you may speak with him. With Ellen in attendance, of course.” She murmured to one of the footmen in the dining room, instructing him to fetch Georgina’s lady’s maid.
Georgina smoothed her skirts, and patted the neat, low bun at the back of her neck, ensuring no hairs were out of place. As she made her way to the door, her grandmother took her arm and pulled her close.
“See to it that you are on your best behavior, Georgina. Keep that sharp tongue of yours to yourself. There is no man that wishes to hear it. I am sure I need not remind you that this could be your one and only chance at a match.”
Georgina nodded solemnly. “Yes, Grandmother. Of course.” She hurried from the dining room before her conscience got the better of her and she confessed to her every misdemeanor.
When she and Ellen entered the parlor, Georgina found a young, fresh-faced gentleman waiting for her. His light brown hair was trimmed neatly, and eager gray eyes shone with what she assumed were nerves. Georgina guessed him little more than twenty. The moment she stepped inside, he broke into a broad smile and hurried to greet her.
“Miss Wyatt.” He clasped her hands. “I cannot thank you enough for what you have done.” Georgina flashed him a smile, cocking her head slightly to gesture to her lady’s maid—a warning to Renshaw to keep word of their plans to a minimum.
“Thank you for your visit, My Lord,” she said loudly, clearly. “I must admit, it was something of a surprise.”
“I confess, I have always been fascinated by you, Miss Wyatt,” he said, playing along. “It is a pleasure to finally spend some time in your company.” They took up their seats on opposite sides of the tea table. Georgina nodded her thanks as a maid delivered a tray of tea and biscuits.
With the maid gone, and Ellen safely tucked away on the far side of the room, Renshaw leaned toward her. “I appreciate this more than you could know, Miss Wyatt,” he said, eyes shining. “Lydia is… well, I care for her very much. And I believe I would make a good husband for her. I would like the chance to prove that to your grandmother.”
This is the right kind of man for Lydia. Gentle and kind, with good intentions. Not that pig-headed, cocky Duke of Levinton.
Georgina smiled at him over the top of her teacup. “I shall do everything I can to see you and Lydia married,” she assured him.
And everything I can to get the Duke out of our lives.
* * *
Jane Wyatt, the Dowager Viscountess of Thomson, paced across the sitting room. She could hear faint murmuring coming from downstairs as Georgina chatted with the Baron of Renshaw.
