Page 39 of A Scarred Wallflower for the Duke
Lydia’s horrified expression eased just long enough for her to flash a smile at Lord Renshaw, who returned the gesture briefly. Then she gripped her sister’s hands and shook them hard. “We need to speak, Georgie. In private. Very urgently. Excuse us, Peter.”
Before Georgina could protest, Lydia was tugging her across the ballroom and into the retiring room. A group of young ladies were clustered around the mirror, dabbing their cheeks with rouge and tidying loose strands of hair. The air was thick with the scent of floral perfume. The moment she stepped into the room, Georgina could feel the ladies’ eyes shift in her direction. When she looked their way, they turned away hurriedly.
Doing her best to ignore them, Georgina led Lydia to the settee at the back of the room and sat her sister down on it. She took her sister’s shoulders to steady her. Looked her in the eye. “Tell me what has happened.” She kept her voice low, to avoid being overheard.
“Oh Georgie, it is worse than we thought.” Lydia gulped down her breath. “The entire time I was dancing with the Duke, I could see him watching another lady across the ballroom. At first, I believed that was a good thing because I thought perhaps I could convince him to court this lady instead of me. So I tried to find out who he was looking at. And then I realized…”
Georgina nodded, urging her to continue. She shook her head. “I cannot say it. It is too awful.”
“Lydia. Do not be foolish. Just tell me.”
Lydia’s shoulders slumped. “He was looking atyou, Georgie. I am sorry.”
Georgina’s heart skipped. “He was?”
“Oh yes. And that is not all. He asked me if I thought things between you and Peter were serious. He wanted to know if I imagined a proposal would be forthcoming.”
Georgina’s lips parted in shock. Had Vincent truly asked about her plans to marry? Could that mean he had an interest in… She shook her head. The thought was ludicrous. Someone like her would never even be a wife, let alone aduchess…
And yet, she could not help asking, “What did you tell him?”
Lydia squeezed her hand. “Do not worry. I told him you and Peter were very serious indeed, and that you loved each other very much. I told him you expected him to propose any day now.”
Georgina felt something sink inside her. “I see.”
“There is no need to look so morose, Georgie,” Lydia told her. “I am sure I have said enough to warn him away from you.”
“Yes,” Georgina said. “I am sure you have.”
Georgina nudged her sister to her feet, gesturing to the door of the retiring room. “You ought to get back. Grandmother will be looking for you.”
“What about you?”
Georgina flashed her a smile. “I will be out shortly. I just need to rest a moment. Think about what best to do.”
Lydia nodded. She pulled her into a quick embrace. “I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Georgie. But I will help you fix things. Everything will be all right.”
“Of course, it will.” She ushered Lydia toward the door. “Go on now. Quickly.”
Once her sister was gone, Georgina sank back onto the settle, letting out an enormous sigh. The group of ladies at the mirror glanced at her again, then made their way back out to the ballroom, leaving her alone.
In spite of herself, her heart was beating hard. She could hardly believe what Lydia had told her. It had taken some time, but after their afternoon in the smoking room, she had at last come to accept that Vincent was attracted to her. But she had never imagined he might show any interest in making her his wife. Marriage to Vincent Mads felt like such an impossibility, Georgina was almost afraid to think about it.
She got to her feet and stood close to the large gilded mirror hanging on the wall. And she looked into her own eyes. When was the last time she had done such a thing? Usually, the sight of her reflection filled her with self-loathing. Usually, she avoided her reflection as much as possible. But now, with this new information…
Is it possible I am not quite as hideous as I imagined myself to be?
Unlike the young ladies who had just left the room, she wore little makeup, beyond a faint pink sheen of lip salve. She had long ago learned that powder did little to hide her imperfections; in fact, it had the opposite effect. She knew there was no point in trying to look like something she was not. But tonight, that did not seem to bother her as much as it usually did.
She found herself tracing a finger along the longest of her scars; it led down from her left eye to the base of her neck. She thought of the portrait Vincent had made of her. In his sketch, he had captured this scar perfectly, as he had all her others. And yet, the finished product…
Georgina had been taken aback by the unusual beauty of the figure who had looked back at her from upon the page. Had struggled to believe it was a true representation of herself. Either way, that was how Vincent saw her. And he had suggested to Lydia that he had an interest in marrying her.
And Lydia told him I was about to become engaged to Lord Renshaw…
Half of her wanted to throttle her sister. The other half of her wanted to thank her profusely. And then she thought of the way she had been fawning over Lord Renshaw all evening. Thought of Marcus, and his promise to tell Vincent that the Baron was about to ask for her hand.
What have I done?
