Page 72 of When the Marquess Was Mine
“All right,” Rob said after a long pause. “What is it?”
“He lost a good sum at the Vega Club last night. I heard he was in a foul temper, drinking heavily and playing recklessly.”
Another reason to dislike Sterling. “Fool,” said Rob coolly.
“What makes it noteworthy,” went on Tom, as if Rob hadn’t spoken, “is that it’s apparently very out of character for him. So much so, someone asked in jest if his mistress had turned him off, and Sterling’s response was to hurl a wineglass at the fellow.” Tom paused. “Again, not his usual manner.”
Rob said nothing and looked out the window. It was too much to hope Sterling’sfiancéehad turned him out.
Wasn’t it?
The last few weeks had taught Rob some humbling lessons. He’d realized how cold and arrogant he’d been toward people. He was uncomfortably certain he’d let himself get drawn into a rather idiotic plot to spy on Forester. Soon after his injury, he’d told Georgiana that perhaps he deserved to be beaten; he hadn’t been serious then, but as time went on he began to think it might have been the truth. He didn’t want to go back to the way he was before, when he’d been cruelly dismissive of girls like Georgiana, when he could callously take Charles Winston’s deed, when he was amused by the misfortunes and failings of others.
Still, he could not stop himself hoping that Sterling had indeed been jilted.
The Theatre Royal was staging a benefit performance tonight. At the Colbournes’ ball, Rob had gleaned that it would be quite the event, especially given the limited society in town at this time of year. Therefore it wasn’t entirely a surprise to walk into the crowded lobby and spot Georgiana almost at once.
He still wasn’t ready for it; he all but stopped in his tracks. Her hair was up in a loose, shining mass of curls, with tendrils teasing her neck. She wore a dress of shimmering blue, with silver spangles that glittered in the candlelight when she moved. She was talking to another young lady and gesturing with one hand, causing the other lady to laugh behind her fan. She was smiling. She wasdazzling.
Beside him, Tom let out a sigh. “There is something about her,” he admitted. “She does look rather fine tonight.”
“If you come within five feet of me again this evening, I shall throttle you.” Rob tugged at his gloves and spotted a woman he knew. “Lady Baldwin, good evening, ma’am!”
Lady Baldwin was a friend of their mother. As hoped, Tom fled at the sight of her. She was only too pleased to take Rob around and introduce him to anybody and everybody nearby. Georgiana was still speaking to her friend, her back to most of the room. They were three feet away when she finally turned and looked right at him, and Rob braced himself for a negative reaction—
And instead felt the air leave the room. Her green eyes went wide at the sight of him, and for a moment joy suffused her face. A moment later it turned to alarm, which was in turn quickly replaced by a polite mask, but he held on to that joy. She was glad to see him; she just didn’t know what might come of it.
Lady Baldwin must have noticed. “Here is a young lady who may amuse you,” she murmured to him. “Lady Georgiana, may I present to you the Marquess of Westmorland? Sir, this is Lady Georgiana Lucas.”
Her fingers were in his again. He bowed, and caught a whiff of her scent again. “Enchanted to make your acquaintance, my lady.” Her green eyes flew up to meet his gaze, and he winked.
Color flooded her face. She curtsied, and he heard her breathless murmur: “And I yours, my lord.”
“Are you looking forward to the performance?” Lady Baldwin was too near for him to say anything else. “Ought to start rather soon.”
Georgiana swallowed. “I—I suppose. Are you as well, my lord?”
He gazed at her. “Yes, Lady Georgiana, I am tremendously delighted to be here tonight.”
An older woman sailed up beside Georgiana, her nose practically twitching with interest. Lady Baldwin introduced her, and Rob bowed very properly to the Countess Sidlow. Georgiana had called her long-suffering and stuffy, and Rob could see why. Her nose was like the beak of a hawk and she had piercing blue eyes, which seemed to size him up from head to toe. They exchanged banal conversation for a few minutes before Lady Baldwin asked Lady Sidlow a question, and he managed to lean close enough to whisper to Georgiana.
“Meet me in half an hour in the saloon upstairs.”
Her eyes went wide, and he just had time to add a quiet, “Please,” before Lady Baldwin turned and spoke to him. Rob replied absently, watching Georgiana from the corner of his eye. She hesitated a long moment, then finally gave a tiny nod. Lady Baldwin led him away to meet any number of other people who were neither interesting nor remembered, and he began counting the minutes until he could speak to Georgiana again.
Chapter 24
Georgiana did not hear a word of the play, even though it was a rare treat to be at the theater. Lady Sidlow considered it idle entertainment and generally refused to attend. But tonight, Georgiana could only perch anxiously on the edge of her chair and agonize over what to do.
Part of her longed to leap up and run to the saloon. The sight of Rob in the lobby, so unexpected and—she finally admitted—solongedfor, had made her heart soar with delight, as he looked at her with the same faint, crooked smile she had come to adore sitting by Kitty’s pond in Derbyshire. He was even more staggeringly attractive than she remembered, but with—seemingly—all the warmth and humor he’d displayed during their brief acquaintance.
The other part of her was terrified to go, afraid that she had overreacted to the sight of him. She had no idea why he’d come back to London, nor why he wanted to see her. Her own words from the inn at Macclesfield echoed in her mind, just as true and valid as they’d been that night:We don’t know each other, not really.
Of course, she’d also thought her attraction to him would fade once they went their separate ways. Out of sight would become out of mind. That had not happened, and she’d had very little success convincing herself that he must have reverted to his old unlikeable, arrogant self. She had preferred to imagine Lord Westmorland as a distinct person from Rob, who could remain forever charming and amusing and half in love with her.
Her breath shuddered in her chest. She was probably more than half in love with him.
There was no clock in sight. She changed her mind half a dozen times, and then finally decided to do it and be done with it. Unclenching her hands, she slipped from her seat and murmured something to Lady Sidlow about the retiring room, and bolted from the box.
