Page 28 of When the Marquess Was Mine
There was a quiet knock at the door. Georgiana slipped her hand from his and went to answer it. Now used to the darkness, he could discern every footstep as she made her way around the furniture and opened the door. He heard the murmur of female voices, one older.
Georgiana returned to the bedside. Not only could he hear her, he could smell her perfume. “Are you able to receive visitors?” She tugged at the blankets, settling them around his shoulders. “Mother Winston would like to pay her respects. It’s her compress you’re wearing on your head.”
“By all means.” He started to sit up but stopped as her hands landed on his shoulders.
“Stay where you are,” she scolded. “Mother Winston knows how injured you are, and she does not stand on ceremony.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He ignored her commands until he heard her walk away, then pushed himself up on the pillows and listened intently.
“My dear Lord Sterling,” said a new voice. Female, older, warm and rolling, not the crisp diction of a society lady. “What a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“And yours, madam.” He made a motion toward the compress covering his head. “I regret not being more able, but I understand I owe this absolutely lifesaving device to your ingenuity.”
“Is it helping?” she cried in delight. “Oh, I do hope so. ’Tis an old recipe I’ve had since I was a new bride—although I am terribly sorry you needed it!”
“And very grateful I am,” he said gravely. “I also believe my face is rather battered at the moment, and this spares me the humiliation of scaring anyone.”
A muffled laugh caught his ear; Georgiana, he realized.
“Bosh,” said the older lady stoutly. He could hear the smile in her voice. “You’re a right handsome fellow, just as Lady Georgiana told us. The bruises will fade, my lord.”
“If not, I may keep wearing it. Perhaps with slits cut to allow me to see, so I won’t be dependent upon Georgiana to guide me around.”
Mother Winston tittered like a girl. “I can see your charm suffered no damage!”
“Just my wits,” he agreed. “Although I have hopes they may recover.”
“Of course they will!” A soft hand patted his. “Such a strong, healthy fellow. You’ll recover, I feel sure of it.”
“With such a wise lady’s assurance, now I feel certain of it as well.”
“You’d better listen tomyadvice, too,” put in Georgiana, “and not go charging outdoors again before you’re better.”
He grinned beneath the compress. “I shall try to be more patient,” he said, adding quietly, “but itwasworth it.”
“Mama?” whispered yet another voice. “Is Lord Sterling awake?”
“Go away, Geneva,” scolded the older lady at the same time Rob said, “Yes, indeed he is.”
“May I come in?” asked the new voice eagerly. The door creaked, and Georgiana told her to push it closed. “I hope I’m not intruding,” said the girl even as she hurried across the room.
Rob guessed that his appearance and injury had caused a significant amount of drama in the household. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance...”
“Miss Geneva Winston, sir,” she said pertly. “And it ismypleasure to finally make yours, my lord.”
The visitors stayed for a little while. He learned that Mother Winston was Geneva’s mother, and mother-in-law to his hostess, Lady Winston. He heard about the infant Annabel, who owned the heart of everyone in the household. He learned Geneva would be making her debut in London next year, and he gallantly promised to dance with her at Almack’s, even though he had deep suspicions that he never went to Almack’s. He could go once, he told himself, to repay the Winstons for their hospitality.
After a while Mother Winston—the dowager baronetess, although she waved that aside and urged Rob to call her Mother Winston as well—excused herself. “I hope we shall see you at dinner soon, my lord,” she added.
“I look forward to it most eagerly,” he told her. She patted his hand very maternally and left, promising to send a fresh poultice whenever he felt in need of one.
“Must I go, too?” asked Geneva.
“No,” said Georgiana in amusement. “By all means, stay and sit in the dark with us.”
The girl gave a gusty sigh. “I wish you could read aloud, Georgiana, as you were doing before Lord Sterling’s accident.”
“What were you reading?” asked Rob, intrigued.
