she wouldn’t,’ said Sukey. ‘Because you are too sensible to say anything so silly within her hearing.’ She shot her stepsister a knowing look.
Fortunately, Sukey wasn’t the kind of girl who told tales, either. Even so, Georgiana sighed heavily. ‘I am sorry, Sukey. I know you are very excited about getting an invitation to such an exclusive party and I have no wish to ruin your evening with my fit of the dismals.’
‘You’re just nervous, I expect,’ said Sukey charitably. ‘Heavens, I’m nervous myself. I cannot believe that Mrs Pargetter somehow managed to get our names on her niece’s guest list, when everyone knows it’s supposed to be just family and close friends. I hear there’s going to be at least two viscounts there and heaven alone knows who else besides.’ She gave the bunch of blue ribbon one last regretful look, then turned her gaze upon Georgiana.
‘I suppose at least if we are both all in white, we shall match.’
‘It’s very kind of you to say so, Sukey.’ It was her way of showing solidarity. ‘But nobody looking at us standing side by side could ever mistake us for sisters. Not that there will be much standing side by side. You will get swept away from me on a tide of chatter and giggles as soon as we arrive and will end up at the centre of the liveliest crowd in the room. While I will be looking about for the quietest, most secluded corner in which to hide. I hope the Durants go in for potted palms.’
‘Hide? You cannot possibly waste the opportunity Mama has worked so hard to procure for us, hiding away behind a potted palm.’
‘It’s all very well for you,’ Georgiana protested. ‘But you aren’t going to have every man in the place addressing every single remark to your breasts. Men actually remember what your face looks like—even what colour eyes you have, I shouldn’t wonder. But not one of them has ever looked at anything above my neck since I grew these.’ She gestured in despair to the front of her low-cut gown.
Sukey clapped her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle.
‘I am sure that is not true, but anyway, if they do attract a man’s notice, that is all to the good, surely?’
‘There is nothing good about them. They are too big and too heavy. And, and...downright uncomfortable when I go out riding.’
‘Well, only because you will go everywhere at full gallop. I’m sure if you rode in a more decorous manner...’
‘Why should I ride in a decorous manner, just because I sprouted these on my thirteenth birthday?’
‘Because it is the ladylike thing to do,’ said Sukey with a puzzled shake of her head before walking back to the mirror to admire her reflection.
Leaving Georgiana convinced of only one thing. No matter how lovely and feminine and sweet Sukey was, deep down, she held the same convictions as Stepmama. Which was why, in spite of feeling a great deal of affection for her, she had never seen the point in confiding in her.
Not the way she’d been able to confide in Edmund.
But then he’d been the only person, apart from Papa, who’d accepted her as she was.
Until he’d been sent away.
Which had changed everything.
Everything.
Edmund pushed his way through the cluster of people gathered by the railings of Durant House and gave his name to the burly footman stationed there.
He’d known tonight’s event would rouse interest in certain circles, but had not anticipated it creating quite such a stir. He had underestimated the amount of people who had nothing better to do than gossip, obviously. Though Lord and Lady Havelock, the owners of Durant House, had certainly done plenty to create it. Lady Havelock had been a complete unknown before their marriage, which had taken place just before Christmas, while most of the ton had been spending the Season on their country estates. And, according to the very few people who’d been on terms to visit since the couple had taken up residence, she had performed an almost miraculous transformation upon one of the gloomiest town houses known to the haut ton.
What was more, before this mysterious woman could take up her place in society, her lord had proved equally efficient in his own endeavours at siring an heir. Her appearances in public therefore were few and far between and invitations to Durant House were scarcer than hen’s teeth. Which meant that everyone who hadn’t seen inside wanted to know how the young Lady Havelock had managed to effect the sort of improvement upon her new home—that those who had been privileged to see it were raving about—without bankrupting her husband in the process.
‘You are expected, Lord Ashenden,’ said the footman, before stepping aside to allow him to pass.
A smile tugged at Edmund’s lips as he mounted the steps to the front door which swung open as if by magic. Georgiana’s stepmother must have been cock-a-hoop when she received her invitation to this ‘informal gathering of friends and family’, especially once she’d seen how many others were not being admitted to the select gathering. After tonight, the three Wickford ladies would be invited to all sorts of events hosted by ladies whose determination to discover the latest gossip about the interior of Durant House knew no bounds. They would not even be deterred by their humble origins, if anyone ever bothered delving into their antecedents.
Edmund handed his hat and coat to the footman who’d opened the door to him, and made his way across the wainscoted hall to the staircase that swept up the left wall, via a series of half-landings, to the gallery spanning the next storey. The hall was massive. And could have been imposing, but somehow felt welcoming, in spite of Lord Havelock’s forebears scowling down at him from their heavily gilded frames.
That was possibly because he didn’t care about the opinion of long-dead nobles. To be frank, he didn’t give much for the opinion of living ones either. The only person whose thoughts interested him in the slightest, at this moment, was Georgiana.
She was bound to be angry with him after the way they’d parted. Though at least this time he knew why she was angry with him and had a perfectly sound explanation to offer. At least, he intended to explain why he hadn’t called upon her before she’d left Bartlesham. He was tolerably certain she would understand his need to think things through. And that she’d forgive his earlier offence once he demonstrated his willingness to be her friend once more, if not her husband.
What he was not going to do, however, was offer any explanation as to why he hadn’t called upon her now that he was in Town as well.
A flush crept up his neck as he mounted the stairs, brought on by the recollection of the impetuous way he’d stormed out of Six Chimneys before he’d gathered all the information he needed. And then the difficulty he’d had attempting to track her down. By the time he had done so, it was far too late to simply pay her a morning call, since she was bound to have known exactly how long he’d been in residence at Ashenden House. Various newspapers regularly reported his movements, for reasons that remained a mystery to him. It would have looked as though he’d been too busy, or too indifferent to call before.
Besides, he’d reasoned, they wouldn’t have been able to converse privately anyway. He could just imagine the scene in her drawing room, with her shooting dagger glances at him, while he would have been unable to explain anything to his satisfaction.
