Page 21 of A Duke of One's Own
‘I know he will. I am sorry, Louisa,’ she said again, ‘for this fresh disruption I have created for you all.’
‘Oh, go to bed, child!’ said her aunt in fond exasperation. ‘You must be exhausted – I know I am – and perhaps things will lookbrighter in the morning. It is not every family,’ she added with a gleam of humour, ‘that would see a betrothal to a highly eligible duke as a cause for heart-burnings. Most other people – witness the Debenhams – would be rejoicing at their good fortune!’
Georgie made no answer, but smiled wearily and bade her goodnight.
24
The following day was largely occupied in saying farewell to the Howard party, and to the other guests who were to take their leave. Much to everyone’s unexpressed relief, this included the Debenhams, who had somehow discovered urgent reasons to be elsewhere. Nobody pressed them for more details; everybody was glad to see them go.
Louisa had instructed her groom to leave at first light, bearing a letter to her nephew; if he made excellent time and encountered no delays, he would reach Lady Irlam’s home near Skipton at the end of a long day’s travelling. If in turn Hal set off very early on the morning after he received the news of his sister’s most unexpected engagement, and proceeded with similar reckless speed, he might arrive at Northriding Castle late that same day, at the cost of sprung horses, snatched meals and physical exhaustion. But he could hardly feel comfortable pushing on so hard if accompanied by his wife, so Georgie did not look to see Cassandra with him, and she was sorry, for she thought her sister-in-law might stand her friend in these trying times. She had had her own adventures around the time of her marriage to Hal, and all had not gone smoothly between themeven after they had married. Perhaps she would be able to give sage advice, though Georgie doubted very much that any of it would really be applicable to her most peculiar and difficult situation.
Georgiana found it hard to cope with the affection shown to her by Lady Blanche and her daughter, which she was obliged to meet with answering warmth, feeling a fraud all the while she did so. Lady Blanche, who would presumably – if nothing happened to prevent it – be her sister-in-law too very soon, confessed that she had cherished half a hope that Georgiana and her brother might make a match of it even before the Pendlebury party had arrived, despite all she had said to the contrary. ‘Louisa had talked about you a good deal in her letters, you know, my dear, and so the idea was already in my mind, though of course I said nothing of it to anyone. I could not imagine anyone more suitable on paper. And as soon as I set eyes on you, and, more to the point, as soon as I saw Gabriel set eyes on you, I could not help thinking that you would be perfect for each other! I knew he was interested in you from the outset, and you in him, dare I say? And I am delighted to be proved right!’
She was plainly more than happy to welcome Georgie into the family, and Eleanor in particular seemed glad to gain a relative so near to her in age, who would be able to chaperone her in society soon enough. She endured a particularly awkward conversation in which the girl – who would, how ridiculous, be her niece and might wish to call her Aunt – asked her innocently about her plans for the rest of the year, to which she was obliged to give evasive and unsatisfactory answers, saying that there had been no time to think of such things just yet. It was so far true: she had no plans, but was in an atrocious state of confusion.
Despite the happy news, everyone who remained at the Castle seemed a little lethargic and lacking in energy that day, no doubt as a result of their exertions at the ball, and it came on torain hard as the afternoon progressed, a heavy, cold, drenching rain that depressed the spirits. The greatly reduced party did not linger downstairs long after dinner, and the Duke was sensitive enough to Georgie’s mood that he made no suggestion of visiting her later, and did not appear in her chamber unannounced, as he so easily could have done. She lay awake a while, wondering if he would come, unsure if she wanted him to, wondering what she would say to him if he did. But he did not, and at last she fell into a restless sleep, plagued by unquiet dreams.
She slept late the following morning, but rose in time to bid goodbye to Mrs and Miss Templeton – formally, in the case of the older lady, whom she had never liked, and affectionately when it came time to take leave of her daughter. They embraced, and Alice whispered a fervent, ‘Thank you!’ in Georgiana’s ear. It seemed unlikely that Georgie would ever be able to convince her friend that she had not sacrificed herself for her sake, and she certainly did not feel equal to attempting the task now. Her feelings about the prospect of marriage to the Duke were complex, and seemed to change by the minute. She did not think Alice would understand; how could she, when Georgie did not understand herself?
Georgiana, Lady Louisa and Miss Spry were now the only guests in the Castle, and an air of greater informality prevailed, along with a certain lessening of tension. When the Duke suggested that he and Georgie took a walk together after nuncheon, nobody suggested that any supervision was necessary. The expression on Louisa’s face showed all too plainly that she considered it rather too late for that.
They made their way down through the depths of the Castle to the beach, dispensing with any aid on this occasion, His Grace carrying the lantern. The dogs had wanted to accompany him, but he had called a footman to hold them back and make sure they did not follow, though they whined piteously at being left.The descent was made largely in silence, and the pair did not speak of anything but commonplaces until they were outside on the strand. The tide was out, and a large expanse of gleaming beach was revealed, without so much as a human footprint to mar its perfection. The rain had stopped during the night, everything was as fresh and clean and shining as it could be, and fitful beams of hazy sunlight struck silver from the waves.
‘What an extraordinary place this is. It’s so beautiful,’ said Georgie, anxious to keep the conversation upon such unexceptionable topics as the scenery and the weather.
‘I have always found it so. Miss Spry would agree with you, I imagine, since she is of a literary bent, but I doubt many others among our recent party could be persuaded of it.’
‘Mary Debenham would have gone into raptures over a pile of mouldy sacking if she thought it would curry favour with you!’
‘True, but she would have been quite obviously dissembling, and you are not. And you forget, it would have been a pile of mouldyducalsacking.’
‘That makes all the difference.’
‘To her, certainly.’ He stopped, and turned to face her. ‘Georgiana…’
She looked up at him, stray curls blowing across her wind-flushed cheeks, her expression troubled, and he pulled her close. She had no will to resist him, but warned him feebly, ‘We can be seen from every window on this side of the Castle, I dare say.’
‘I am not proposing to throw you down on the wet sand and have my wicked way with you, my dear, tempting though the idea may be. Although I should tell you that, if I did, I imagine any spectators at Northriding would probably feel impelled to cheer us on rather than to disapprove.’
‘Of course – the heir.’
‘The heir. But that is a cold and impersonal word to use, is it not? Our child, Georgie. I believe I should ask you, thoughperhaps it is unwise of me to do so: how do you feel about that; about the prospect of motherhood, perhaps quite soon?’
‘It is not that I mind. I do not think it’s that. I was raised in the expectation of becoming a mother, and my own family life has been a very happy one, unlike so many, unlike the Cavendishes, for example. It is the fact that we hardly know each other that disturbs me,’ she said suddenly, feeling the truth in her words as she spoke them. ‘We are discussing making a child together, yet we really don’t know the least thing about each other. I don’t think that we have had a single conversation that has not consisted mainly of outrageous flirting, and ended in kisses rather than confidences.’
‘It is the way our society is arranged. Not the kisses, of course, but all the rest. The lack of acquaintance, certainly. If I were not standing here with you now, remember that I would be talking in some superficial fashion with Miss Debenham, Miss Templeton, or one of the others, if indeed I were permitted to walk with any one of them unchaperoned.’
‘It’s barbaric.’
‘It is what we have.’ He sighed. ‘You know I agree with you. It is barbaric, for many reasons. I am sure you think that as a man I have a great deal of freedom, far more than you have or ever will have, and of course this is true in many ways, but not in all. I must provide this estate and all its people with an heir. I have a duty to them that can no longer be shirked, and my own inclinations are of no importance. If I were one of those men for whom the female sex holds no attraction whatsoever, if I cared at all for duty and family, I must still persuade some woman to marry me, and we must go to bed together and contrive to make a child between us, however much we both hated every minute of it. A miserable prospect for both, I am sure you agree. We are not farm animals.’
‘How fortunate that you are not such a man,’ she said bitingly. ‘Quite the reverse, in fact.’
‘I suppose you have no reason to believe me, Georgiana, but I have never been indiscriminate in my amours, which have in any case not been as frequent as rumour would have you believe. I swear to you that I have never pressed my attentions on anyone. The prospect of making advances to a woman who had agreed to be my wife through parental pressure or even her own ambition, yet shrank at the prospect of my touch, was always distasteful to me. It could not be anything else.’
‘At least she would have explicitly agreed.’
‘Where you have not?’
