Page 92 of Lessons for Marquesses
Julian drew her into the dining room, and she was trembling now. Caroline sat next to Mr. Wolf and Mr. Wolf, always straight in posture, leaned a broad shoulder to Caroline.
He had dressed for dinner in a pewter silk suit with lace at his cuffs that gracefully draped his large, tanned hands. His silver waistcoat was that of a duke, a marquess, a prince. He had brushed his hair and tied it. His lace jabot had a sparkling blood-red ruby pin stuck in the luxurious folds.
He had shaved his face.
His chin was strong, square, with a faint cleft, made for a woman to kiss. He was every Greek god. He was Alexander the Great. She’d seen a rendering of the statue in a book.
Caroline was in a deep blue brocaded sacque gown with silver threads. Her ruched stomacher was silver with contrasting blue embroidery. A pendant of sapphires dripped headily at her décolletage. Matching bracelets circled her tiny, pale wrists.
Mr. Wolf and Caroline had been made for one another. Opposites in coloring, in size, and setting each other off to perfection.
How long before Mr. Wolf succumbed to Caroline? The question tortured her, but it was best to be in on the jest, than be the butt of it.
Georgiana pulled out her watch. “Seven hours,” she said to Julian.
Her cousin guffawed. “Sevenhours? Not days?”
“You’ll have to take my wager on credit.”
Rupert stomped toward them from the sideboard, ready to unleash a blistering harangue. Caroline, drawing her beautiful face from Mr. Wolf—how that must havehurt—rose from her chair.
“Oh, dearest Poppy,” Caroline sang out as she glided across the room.
“Ahh.” Georgiana laughed, addressing the company who searched for the person named Poppy. “I am Poppy. The infamous poplar tree as shouted by Lady Cartwright.”
Caroline kissed her cheeks. “How well you appear. I say, if I did not turn pink in the sun, I would spend as much time as you do in it. Brown becomes you. And your freckles, they are quite endearing. And your hair. Where is your wig?”
“I have decided to befriend my hair.” She glared at Oliver. And leveled a gaze at Mr. Wolf. “I’m told everything pales in comparison to it. It is idyllic. The remembrance of happiness too fleeting, too rare.”
He had written that to her, hadn’t he? Men could kiss women they weren’t attracted to and pen love letters to their hair.
“Well, it certainly is red,” Caroline said sweetly.
Julian feigned shooting his sister at the heart patch decorating the top of her left breast. “The only heart she has,” Julian whispered in Georgiana’s ear, and to his sister he said for all to hear, “Shoo, Caroline. Your wolf cub eagerly awaits you.”
If eyes were muskets, Mr. Wolf would have shot Julian dead.
Caroline’s brow knitted at her brother. She turned back to Georgiana. “The ball is set for three weeks hence. I have already received seventy-two yeses.”
Georgiana sucked in her breath.
“Well, it must be a full moon, Poppy, and by July all who matter will be retired to the country. ’Tis the perfect time. They will depart London for Farendon and then be off to their estates.And I expect many more than seventy-two. It’s not a ball without at least two hundred.”
There was a tickle at Georgiana’s throat as she glared at Charlotte. “And where will they stay?”
“Don’t you worry, Poppy. I have made arrangements. And your aunt graciously provided me your measurements, and my modiste made a gown just for you. I must say with so much yardage required, it cost a fortune. You do prefer pink, do you not?”
For the first time in nine years, Georgiana’s entire body erupted into a coughing fit. She hacked into her sleeve and braced herself at the room’s threshold.
“Oh, Poppy, did I upset you? Please accept my apologies. I was too enthusiastic, wasn’t I? It is a fault of mine, I do confess.”
Georgiana’s reply spewed forth as a resounding hiccup. “I need to bathe and change for dinner.”
Charlotte bustled from her chair. “Georgiana, you are to sleep elsewhere. Temporarily, of course.”
Georgiana wiped the tears from her face. “Where?”
Rupert, forgotten during Caroline’s welcome, ground out, “In the nursery.”
