Page 52 of A Scarred Wallflower for the Duke
Vincent’s eyes darted between Georgina and the Baron. “Yes.” His voice lost a little of its brassiness. “I think that would be best.”
Georgina turned to her sister. Lydia’s eyes were the size of saucers. “Oh my goodness,” she murmured. “Aduel? He wished to fight a duel for you? Can you believe it?”
Georgina put her hands on her sister’s shoulders to steady her. “You and Lord Renshaw go back downstairs,” she said, her voice low. “Do not tell Grandmother any of this. Tell her I am unwell, and that His Grace has gone outside for some air.”
Lydia nodded obediently. She turned to the Baron, her eyes meeting his in a wordless conversation. The two of them disappeared from the sitting room on silent feet, whispering to one another.
Georgina let the door click closed and stood for several moments with her back to Vincent, hardly daring to face him. Her heart was racing, and she felt a faint tremor going through her body.
Vincent wishes to marry me. He would have fought a duel for me…
And yet, somewhere in the back of her mind was the dull knowledge that none of that changed anything. It did not change what thetonthought of her, or the shame she would bring to him. It would not change the impossibility of their union.
But it was time to tell him the truth. Every piece of it.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
For several moments, Jane Wyatt sat motionless, staring at the door to the dining room through which more than half the dinner party had just disappeared. Something was going on. And she did not care for it one bit.
She turned to Marcus, who was sitting at the head of the table, his soup spoon bouncing in his fist like a conductor’s baton. For a moment, she considered asking him if he had heard news of Georgina and the Baron’s betrothal. But of course, she could not do such a thing in front of the Dowager Duchess. Could not show any inkling that she did not know what was happening. She was already far too embarrassed about the state of this cursed dinner party. Hopefully, Her Grace would be far too absorbed in the bread rolls to care that the entire evening was becoming a shamble.
Jane had no idea what was behind Lydia’s odd behavior tonight. And what was all that nonsense about the bloodshed in Scotland that Georgina was carrying on about? Why on earth had the Duke shown such fascination in such a ghastly topic?
It did not matter. Somehow, she would see to it that everything was put straight. By the end of the evening, there would be two weddings to plan. And two difficult granddaughters who would soon be their husbands’ problem.
Jane waved at one of the footmen to top up the Dowager Duchess’s wine. “I do apologize, Your Grace,” she said.How many times in the past weeks have I found myself apologizing to this insufferable lady for my granddaughters’ behavior? Enough is enough.“Perhaps we ought to move on to the next course.”
At the mention of the next course, the Dowager Duchess’s face lit up. “Yes. I think that is a fine idea.”
The door clattered open suddenly and Lydia and Lord Renshaw flew back into the dining room.
“I am terribly sorry, Grandmother, Your Grace,” gushed Lydia. “It was very rude of me to disappear like that. But I was concerned about my sister.”
“Of course,” Jane said thinly. “And will your sister be joining us?”
“I am afraid she is rather unwell,” Lydia said. “She has gone upstairs to rest a moment. She passes on her apologies and hopes she will be down shortly.”
“I see. And His Grace?”
“His Grace has gone out for some air,” said Lord Renshaw. He gave the Dowager Duchess a shy smile. “It seems you were right, Your Grace. I believe his impending engagement has rather unsettled him. I must say, he seems a right bundle of nerves tonight.”
Jane swapped a relieved glance with the Dowager Duchess. At least the Duke still had a mind to propose tonight. Even if he was balking at the thought of it.
“Oh, the dear thing,” said Lydia suddenly. “There is no need for him to feel so nervous. Any young lady would be overjoyed to become his wife.”
Jane raised her eyebrows. She had never heard Lydia speak so affectionately about her husband-to-be before. Where had this side of her been hiding? It did not matter. It was here now—better late than never.
Lydia gave the Dowager Duchess angelic eyes. “Do tell me, Your Grace, do you imagine it might be possible for me to have the sitting room at Levinton Manor painted? I was thinking perhaps a lovely sky blue…”
* * *
Georgina drew in her breath and turned to face Vincent. His blue eyes were watching her intently. As if on instinct, he took a step toward her, making her racing heart pound even harder.
“I am afraid I have been deceiving you,” Georgina began. “Or rather, all of us have.”
Vincent’s dark brows furrowed. “Deceiving me how, exactly?”
Georgina closed her eyes. “Lord Renshaw and I are not to be married. There is nothing between us. There never was. You were right when you accused me of lying to you at the park that day.”
