Page 119 of Lessons for Marquesses
Georgiana heaved to the stair rail, digging her nails to the wood until her fingers screamed. Fat Lord Staverton hooked his stubby fingers to his coat and sauntered out of the reception hall behind Sir Jeffrey and Kitty.
And that was that.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
The rain fell steadilythrough the morning as Georgiana and Oliver rode to Chedworth with the river flooded at its bank and birds dashing for cover. Georgiana had nothing to occupy her time except stare out the coach window or at her cousin who read his papers.
“I think England would fall to pieces without you,” she said.
“At least someone appreciates my dedication,” Oliver grumbled.
“And you will dedicate yourself to intimidating the marquess which will be most appreciated. My goal is a fifty percent partnership. And to remain in residence at Farendon.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Georgiana snapped the pile situated on his lap. Oliver jumped, which proved he barely attended to her. “Did you hear me?”
“Done.”
“How is it done? He won’t concede readily.”
He fixed her with his flinty squint. “He will.”
Oliver was confident, even after she had divulged that the marquess had purchased the entirety of her debt. But themarquess had no reason to negotiate. Which made it all the more puzzling that he wished to. Or was it to watch her squirm as she tried?
Upon their arrival at Chedworth, she conferred with Mrs. Higglewaite on the refreshments to be served during their meeting, the dinner, and the marquess’s lodgings. They were duties she had no idea how to discharge, but the housekeeper took pity on her with understanding nods and discreet corrections on the table setting, the proper order of courses, and where the marquess must be seated in the massive dining room.
In the front parlor, Georgiana plumped a pillow on the settee for the hundredth time as the clock snapped to five o’clock. Eastwick was three hours late. She poured a glass of sherry and sprawled out on a sofa.
She went to the library, picked out a book of poems, and returned to stare at the first line while the rain pelted the mullioned windows. She straightened a stack of Oliver’s papers discarded at his feet where he sat at a card table. “What if the marquess wishes to play billiards?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You will play with him.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Shoving his hand down, she stuffed the official-looking document to the table. “Oliver, did you hear me?”
“I will play billiards with the marquess.”
“Could you at least talk to me?”
Oliver shifted in his chair. “What would you like to talk about?”
“Anything.”
“It is raining.”
“I know.”
“What is for dinner?”
“Vegetables! Courses and courses of them.” Oliver scowled. “Can you not see how nervous I am? What if I lose my temper? What if I throw him out on his marquess ear?”
Oliver seesawed his head. “It’s probable. But I have faith in you to act like a lady. You always have.” After a glance at his watch and the increasing gloom outside, he said, “Good God, it’s nearly dark.”
She lit a candle and plunked it down for her cousin. “I’ll be in my room.”
