Page 4 of When the Marquess Was Mine
“He sounds very dishonorable, if he would trick Charles so cruelly!” declared Mother Winston.
The Marquess of Westmorland was worse, as far as Georgiana was concerned. “I would be the last person to defend his honor.”
Mother Winston’s eyes rounded. “What did he do?” asked Geneva, now avidly interested.
Georgiana stirred her tea. She did not have a high opinion of the marquess, but for a purely personal reason. For a moment her conscience rebelled a little; just because she disliked him... intensely... didn’t mean she should blacken his name to everyone in Derbyshire.
Then she recalled what Charles’s letter had said. Westmorland had tricked him, and might be about to arrive on Kitty’s doorstep—why would he do that? Charles was clearly terrified of what might happen if he did. Whatever had happened with Charles, if the marquess thought to punish Kitty and her darling child in any way, or Geneva and her mother, Georgiana was not going to stand by and let him.
“He’s a notorious rogue.” Nothing she could tell Kitty was worse than what she’d hear in London anyway. “He runs with a very disreputable crowd—Viscount Heathercote, and Lord Marlow, and even the very shocking Mr. Clifton. You remember him, Kitty, the gentleman who nearly broke his neck climbing the spire of St. Martin’s.”
“Oh my,” breathed Geneva.
“How would Charles have fallen in with such a man?” fretted Mother Winston.
“It must have been a lark, and not Charles’s fault at all. The marquess is quite wild,” Georgiana went on. “He and his friends are in the gossip papers all the time for some prank or another. They’re known for playing pranks, as a matter of fact, including putting one fellow into a boat while he was utterly foxed and sending him sailing off down the Thames. They thought it was a grand joke, even though he didn’t wake up until his boat hit a pier in Greenwich. At any moment he might have fallen out and drowned.”
“Oh, and they might have played a prank on Charles?” Geneva’s face lit up, at once intrigued and horrified by the idea. “How dreadful that would be! Poor Charles!”
“He doesn’t sound at all like Charles’s usual companions,” said Kitty. “But why doyoudislike him, Georgiana?” She asked it with a look that said she knew there must be more to the story than wild, roguish behavior—which might, after all, fairly describe any number of London gentlemen whom Georgiana found charming and entertaining.
“I am trying to be discreet,” Georgiana said in mock indignation.
“Really?” murmured Kitty wryly.
“Please don’t be!” cried Geneva, earning a stern look from Mother Winston.
Georgiana took a sip of tea. “Well, if you insist on hearing more...”
“Oh yes!” Geneva leaned so far forward she almost fell off her chair.
“Geneva,” said her mother in reproof.
“He may be on his way here to intimidate and alarm us,” returned Geneva without blinking an eye. “I think we ought to know the worst.”
Mother Winston pursed her lips. “Nevertheless, it isn’t decent to look soeager.” Geneva grinned, and even Kitty choked on a laugh.
“Westmorlandisa scoundrel,” said Georgiana, abandoning all discretion. “He’s ill-mannered and mean-spirited. He and his useless friend Lord Heathercote amuse each other with spiteful little comments about other people, and they don’t care who overhears them. At a soiree this spring, they stood off from the rest of the guests, looking down their noses at everyone, and mocked everything from the food to the decor. He called Joanna Hotchkiss a simpleton. He suggested Lady Telford was a poor hostess, and called her decorations headache-inducing.” She paused, hating that she cared at all what a drunken rake thought of her. “He said I was nothing more than a silly, shallow flirt who reveled in teasing men.” Although he’d said it in more vulgar terms.
Kitty’s mouth fell open. Geneva’s eyes flashed. “You, silly? How dare he!”
“Very rude!” said Mother Winston indignantly. “Abominable man!”
“He’s rude and abominable, and interested solely in himself,” she agreed. “Quite malicious, in my opinion.”
“I hate him,” declared Geneva.
“So do I,” murmured Georgiana.
“And now he’s abused our dear Charles.” Mother Winston looked to Kitty. “What shall we do, my dear?”
“For the moment, there’s nothing we can do.” Poised once more, Kitty folded the letter. “How odd that Charles thinks Westmorland might come here. Why on earth would he?”
“To gloat, no doubt!” Geneva looked at her mother. “We would not be required to receive him, would we, Mother?”
“Certainly not!” Mother Winston rose to her feet, a militant look in her eye. “And neither will anyone in Maryfield. I shall warn everyone, especially Mrs. Tapp at the Bull and Dog. Not only will this wretch not be welcome here, he shan’t find a room in our town, either.”
“I’ll help!” Geneva went with her, proposing a dozen wild ideas about how they could deter and snub the marquess.
