he suspected. As they reached the landing Lady Tarbrook went scuttling off down the corridor which probably, knowing his mother’s penchant for games of chance, led to the card rooms.
He permitted Lady Twining to gush over him for a moment or two when he reached the head of the receiving line, however. It gave him an opportunity to scan the ballroom beyond.
He soon spotted Mrs Wickford, amidst the other chaperons, sitting out the dance in progress. She was fanning herself briskly, leaning in close to Lady Havelock as though sharing some confidence, and looking mighty pleased with herself.
Sukey was on the dance floor with a well-heeled baronet, whom he knew by reputation.
But he scarcely gave the couple more than a passing glance. Because he’d also seen Georgiana, dancing with Major Gowan. And she was wearing another scandalously low-cut gown. Major Gowan was making no attempt to disguise his hope that the next energetic move might have her bouncing right out of the confines of her stays. His tongue was practically hanging out, his eyes glued so fixedly to Georgiana’s frontage that he was paying no attention to where he was going. And since he was such a large man, it meant that other dancers were obliged to take evasive action.
He stifled the urge to stride across the room and trip the damned rogue up. Though it would give him the greatest pleasure to see the Major stretching his length on the floor, he had no wish to embarrass Georgiana by making her the centre of such a spectacle. There were enough lecherous bucks watching from the sidelines with avid expressions as it was.
Instead, set-faced, he strolled around the perimeter of the room—not looking at the dancers even out of the corner of his eye—and made his bow to Lady Havelock.
‘Oh, Ashe,’ she said, her face lighting up with pleasure. Or relief? She couldn’t possibly be enjoying sitting tête-à-tête with a woman like Mrs Wickford and might well be hoping he’d come to rescue her. ‘Thank you so much for putting me in the way of finding a friend for Julia,’ she said, nodding her head in the direction of Georgiana. ‘She is so much happier now she has someone to talk horses with and to go riding with.’
‘Why, Lord Ashenden,’ put in Mrs Wickford, her eyes widening as Lady Havelock revealed his part in bringing the two girls together, ‘I never dreamed we had you to thank for our good fortune.’
‘No?’ Why on earth did she think Lady Havelock had introduced her husband’s wealthy half-sister to a family with no connections in Town, unless she’d done so as a favour to a friend? Why else did she think Lady Havelock had arranged for invitations to be sent to an event such as this, come to that?
He took out his pocket watch and gave it a cursory glance. Which was a singularly stupid thing to do. There was no way he could estimate how much time he would have before his mother came to the ballroom to find out what he was doing there. It would depend entirely upon the state of play.
He snapped the case shut and replaced the watch in his waistcoat pocket as the orchestra wailed to a crescendo. The dancers all stopped capering about, bowed to their partners and began to disperse.
The baronet arrived first.
‘Thank you so much for the pleasure of that dance,’ he said, making a bow which included both the stepmother and Lady Havelock.
Mrs Wickford preened as her daughter sat down. She clearly thought Miss Mead had made her first conquest. Little did she know that Lord Freckleton was not interested in females in the slightest. He only sought out those his family would consider completely ineligible, or the perennial wallflowers who always drooped around the edges of the room, in an attempt to throw dust in their eyes.
‘Lord Ashenden,’ said Lord Freckleton next, giving him a mocking smile. ‘What an unexpected pleasure to see you here.’
Edmund couldn’t return the compliment. Lord Freckleton always eyed him with a little too much interest for his peace of mind.
And then the Major returned, with a flush-faced Georgiana on his arm, and Edmund’s lack of a smile turned into a decided scowl. At some point the Major must have got so close to her that he’d trodden on her hem because she was trailing half a yard of sparkling, gauzy stuff that clearly belonged with the rest of the flounces and frills adorning the lower quadrant of her gown.
‘My thanks for the dance,’ the Major said, bowing over her hand with a flourish. ‘Haven’t enjoyed one so much in ages. A pity you cannot stand up with me again. A great pity.’
‘Oh, but you have stood up with my stepdaughter twice already,’ Mrs Wickford protested with a false titter. ‘Besides, she is promised to Lord Freckleton for the next,’ she said with a great deal of satisfaction.
And then several things happened in rapid succession.
First, Georgiana’s blush turned a deeper shade of pink as she tugged her hand from the Major’s grip.
Which gave Edmund a strong urge to punch the smug, lecherous look off the Major’s face. And to upend her stepmother’s chair. He also wanted to rip off his coat, drape it round Georgiana’s exposed shoulders and take her somewhere safe.
And then, while he was still wrestling himself under control, Lord Freckleton shot the Major a withering glance and stepped forward, obliging the oaf to yield his ground as he extended his arm to Georgiana.
At which point Edmund saw that Lord Freckleton was exactly the sort of man Georgiana thought she wanted to marry. He would definitely leave Georgiana unmolested. Not only that, but Freckleton would probably be so grateful to any woman who would make it look as though he was doing his duty to his family name, whilst making no demands on him in that regard, he would probably be extremely generous. In his own way.
With just a word or two in Freckleton’s ear, and a short explanation to Georgiana about what kind of man he was, Edmund could arrange the kind of future she claimed she wanted.
He looked hard at Freckleton’s bland face. At his slender shoulders. His neatly manicured nails.
And his whole being revolted. A man like Freckleton might be able to provide Georgiana with what she thought she wanted. He’d leave her alone, right enough, but he would do so because he didn’t care about her. He would never stir himself to encourage her to live her life to the full. To strike off the shackles her stepmother had weighted her down with. In fact, he’d probably impose a whole new set of rules so that she could play the part he wanted her to play.
All of this flashed through his mind in less time than it took for Georgiana to lift her hand and place it on Freckleton’s sleeve.
Which meant that it never reached its destination. For Edmund intercepted her movement, taking her hand firmly in his and laying it on his own sleeve before she could make such a terrible mistake.
‘You won’t mind if I cut in, will you, Freckleton?’
Lord Freckleton raised his eyebrows, his eyes dancing with amusement.
‘I am not able to spend a great deal of time here tonight,’ said Edmund, tucking Georgiana’s hand possessively into the very crook of his arm. ‘You understand,’ he said, and then, without waiting for Freckleton’s reply, he tugged her in the direction of the dance floor before anyone could voice any objections.
‘What do you think you are doing?’ Georgiana asked as he led her inexorably to the bottom of the newest set that was forming.
‘I
