Page 14 of Georgiana
The door opened and Hutchins announced: “The Marquis of Trevayne.”
Georgiana caught the sly wink Aunt Matlock gave her and barely stopped herself from giggling. Her aunt was enjoying this far more than she. The butler stood to one side and the Marquis entered, a dashing figure in a finely cut jacket with fitted breeches tucked into high boots. Although quite handsome, he had a decidedly dangerous air about him and also, didn’t come up to scratch against Maxwell.
Internally, she chastised herself. She’d done it again. Comparing every man to the Duke of Adborough. Drumming up a quiet smile, she accepted the Marquis’ polite greeting, who stopped by her aunt’s chair.
“Lady Matlock, it is such a pleasure to see you again. The last time was at the Smithson’s musicale and I know you enjoyed that evening.”
“I did. Senora Catalini is a marvelous singer. My only regret is we have never seen her perform in a complete opera.”
“Then let us hope she returns soon.” He turned his attention to Georgiana and Lizzy, his glance sliding over Sir Reginald. “I see I must arrive earlier if I am to garner the best seat in the house.” With a cheerful grin, the Marquis settled in the chair across from her and Lizzy.
In the next half hour, three more titled gentleman callers arrived and were dispersed around the room, vying for Georgiana’s attention. Her neck began to tire with all the swiveling left and right, trying to hold several conversations. Finally, after a polite amount of time passed, the gentlemen began to filter out of the room leaving only Sir Reginald Slade who’d not given up his prime position next to her seat.
He was a pleasant enough sort of fellow but she sensed an air of desperation about him. In some ways he behaved in a similar manner tohim. A little too obliging. A little too subservient. Just a little too much of everything saccharine.
She caught Aunt Lucinda glancing at the clock and wondered ‘how did one politely ask a guest to leave?’Fortunately, her dilemma was solved when Hutchins announced, “His Grace, the Duke of Adborough.”
He’d come.
~~~~~
Earlier that morning, before his valet Clarkson had a chance to draw his curtains, Maxwell had lain awake in bed, mulling over last night’s activities. He deliberately arrived late for the ball, wishing to lose himself in the crowd, however, before he had a chance to set foot beyond the front vestibule his mother had waylaid him.
“Thank goodness, you have arrived at last,” she declared.
Not given to histrionics, he wondered what had his mother in such an uproar.
“I told you I would attend after having dinner at the club. What has you so upset?”
“Now is not the time to dither, come with me.”
His mother spun on her heel and walked toward the staircase which led to the second floor and the ballroom.
“Mother, what has happened?”
She paused at the foot of the stairs.
“The Colonel is not here and he is Georgiana’s partner for the first dance, which is about to start at any moment. Viscount Ashton has yet to come down from the family area and Lucinda is not even sure if he is in the house. You know how unreliable he can be at times.”
Yes, he did know how unreliable Ash could be. He’d known for years.
“What do you want me to do? Ride out and chase down the Fitzwilliam brothers?”
“Don’t be daft, Maxwell,” Mother scolded. “I want you to partner with Georgiana for the first dance.”
And he had.
She’d looked so lovely, standing somewhat alone in her white dress, her gauzy overskirt showcasing a cascade of tiny blue flowers that spilled from her waist down to the floor. He wondered if she noticed his vest. The choice of that shade of blue had been purposeful. In his own, quiet way, he wished to stamp on Society’s mind that Miss Georgiana Darcy was his and his alone.
“Shall I draw you a bath, Your Grace,” Clarkson asked as he drew back the curtains and allowed the bright sun to lighten the room.
“No, a quick wash and a shave will do.”
“Very well, Your Grace.”
Clarkson entered the dressing room and Max heard him setting up for his morning ablutions. His first instinct was to rush to Darcy House, which would be foolhardy as Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy’s visiting hours were from two in the afternoon until no later than four. He knew, as a family friend he could extend his visit past the stated hours and intended to use this to his best advantage.
Within the hour he was in his study, pretending to read the reports sent by Mr. Mason. He also pretended he didn’t hear every quarter hour chime on the grandfather clock in the hallway. Closer to eleven, he made his way to the breakfast room where Mother, Caroline, Catherine and George had gathered to have a light repast before guests arrived at two o’clock. There would be no young bucks attending Kerr House as both Caroline and Catherine were married, but there would be many society matrons and their highly eligible daughters wanting a closer connection to the Dowager Duchess and her unmarried son, the Duke.
