first half of the musical recital had lasted for nearly forty minutes and Sam surprised himself by enjoying all of it. When the last note died away he clapped along with everyone else, wondering what the men he employed on his farms would say if they could see him now.
‘What did you think?’ Lady Georgina asked, leaning in towards him a little to be heard over the swell of conversation now the music had stopped.
‘I enjoyed it,’ Sam said, rising quickly as he saw Lady Georgina’s mother glance at her daughter and frown, unable to extricate herself from the brilliant job Lady Winston was doing at keeping her talking. ‘Would you care for a drink?’
‘That would be lovely. I’ll accompany you. I need to move around after forty minutes of sitting still.’
Just as he had hoped. He offered her his arm, glancing quickly back over his shoulder, expecting the man who had been staring at him throughout the performance to be bearing down on them, but finding no one there.
After collecting two glasses of wine, they moved on to the large terrace. The doors from the music room had been thrown open to combat the stuffiness in the room and, despite the cold weather, many of the guests had moved outside for a breath of air.
‘You’re shivering. We can go back inside,’ Sam said as they reached the edge of the terrace.
‘No, it’s a beautiful night.’
Together they both glanced up at the sky where the night was clear and a few stars visible along with the brilliant white of the crescent moon.
‘I’m sure the skies are much different in Australia.’
Sam thought of the endless expanse of darkness, which on a clear night was lit up with hundreds of stars. When you were out in the wilderness it could feel overwhelming, but beautiful all the same. Again he noted the slightly wistful note in her voice, the dreamy way she looked as she imagined the country he now considered home. If he wasn’t very much mistaken, Lady Georgina was an adventurer at heart, trapped by the suffocating conventions of society.
‘I notice a difference when I’m at home in Hampshire,’ Lady Georgina said. ‘The skies are darker, somehow, and the stars brighter.’
She shivered again and quickly Sam shrugged off his jacket and started to place it around her shoulders.
‘I couldn’t...’ she protested.
‘You’re cold. It’s only a jacket.’
Looking around to see if anyone was watching, he saw her run the fabric of the jacket through her fingers as if deciding whether it would be wholly inappropriate to accept the gesture.
‘Surely one of your many admirers has lent you his jacket before,’ Sam said with a grin.
‘I don’t ever step outside with anyone,’ Lady Georgina said.
Sam raised an eyebrow and eventually she corrected herself.
‘I don’t normally step outside with anyone.’
He felt an unbidden tightening deep inside him and for a second the lights and sounds from the house faded away and it was as if they were the only two left in the garden. Quickly he regained control of himself. Lady Georgina was pretty, that was true, and she had something that intrigued him, something that made him want to get to know her better, but he had to keep reminding himself that wasn’t what he was here for. His purpose was to somehow get close to her father and he had to remember Lady Georgina was part of that mission. Allowing anything more, even too much of a friendship to develop, would only serve to hurt her in the long run.
Still, he felt himself being pulled towards her, towards that captivating smile and the sense that underneath her perfectly honed public persona was a woman with hidden depths just crying to get out. He could see it in the way she asked so many questions about Australia, in the wistful, dreamy expression that filled her face when they discussed how their worlds differed. For a moment he wished he could take her there, show her the country he had come to love so much, but he knew that was impossible. Even the overwhelming desire he had to simply take her hand, to brush his fingers against hers, would be too much. Somehow he had to suppress the attraction he felt for the woman in front of him and focus his mind on the reason he’d returned to England.
‘Signor Ratavelli will be starting again in a few minutes,’ Lady Georgina said, a slight catch to her voice Sam hadn’t heard before. ‘Shall we take one more turn about the terrace?’
Offering her his arm, they walked side by side down the length of the terrace. Most of the guests had returned back inside, but a few still lingered, talking quietly in groups and enjoying the fresh, cold air.
At the end of the terrace they paused as Lady Georgina stumbled, gasped softly, then laughed.
‘Sorry,’ she apologized. ‘I have a stone in my shoe, nothing more.’
Without thinking Sam led her a few feet off the terrace and over to an ornate bench no more than ten steps onto the grass. Pressing her to sit, he crouched in front of her and lifted the hem of her dress to reveal a completely impractical shoe. It was all fabric and decoration, with hardly any substance to it. Definitely not a shoe that would survive five minutes in Australia.
Shaking the shoe, he saw a small stone drop out and on to the grass. Before he could stop himself he had placed the shoe on the ground and ran his hand over the bottom of Lady Georgina’s stocking. It was an instinctive move, something Sam would do to himself if he got a stone in his shoe, a way to check nothing more would disrupt his comfort, but as soon as his fingers touched the silky material of her stockings Sam knew it was completely inappropriate.
Lady Georgina inhaled sharply, but Sam noticed she didn’t pull away. He was frozen in place, too, unable to move his hands off her foot, but also equally incapable of stopping his fingers in their slow backwards and forward motion.
‘Lady Georgina,’ a loud voice rang out through the crisp night air.
They jumped apart guiltily and Lady Georgina fumbled to put her own shoe back on.
‘Take your hands off her.’
A wholly unnecessary command. By time the words had crossed the man’s lips Sam was standing at least three feet away. The comment was designed to draw attention from the assembled guests inside the house and it had the desired effect within seconds.
‘Are you harmed, Lady Georgina?’ the man asked, his voice thick with concern.
‘What happened?’ This was from their hostess of the evening, eager to install herself in the middle of any gossip-worthy scandal.
‘I found this scoundrel out here all alone with Lady Georgina, with his hands all over her.’
‘It wasn’t anything like that, Mr Hemmingate,’ Lady Georgina said with remarkable composure.
Sam risked a glance at her and saw her cheeks suffused with colour, although whether from embarrassment or anger he could not tell.
‘I was simply—’ he started to say, but was cut off by a sharp jab in the ribs.
‘Mr Robertson was simply escorting myself and Lady Georgina for a turn about the garden,’
