Page 11 of Ironvine

Her sister moved closer to her, bringing her back to the commotion of the ball. “Sir Reginald will be here tonight.”

“John’s friend from Devonshire?”

“Yes. He’s been in town attending Parliament. As you know, he is quite dedicated to his work.”

“He and John would speak of little else but politics at every dinner since I landed in Devonshire.” It had been quite a relief once he’d left for London many weeks prior, but she wouldn’t tell her sister that. She and John doted on the man and held him in the highest regard.

“Tonight, you shall dance with him,” said Philippa.

“And you shall be bright and charming.” Her mother eyed her inthatway of hers which meant,this is of the utmost importance, and you must behave perfectly.

A flick of cold raced over her flesh at her mother’s firm tone. “To what end?”

“An engagement, of course,” replied her mother.

Her head flew back. “Engagement?”

“Isn’t it exciting?” Philippa sipped on her drink.

Georgina had no words. Her lips parted, but none came for perhaps the first time in a very, very long time.

“Sir Reginald is a fine gentleman,” said Mother. “His manners are impeccable.”

“Hmm. He is respectable, above reproach.” Philippa dabbed at the corner of her mouth. “Unlike some of our acquaintance.” Thomas must have told Philippa about having caught Georgina with Charles Montclare at Vauxhall the night before.

Georgina let out a huff of air. “Yes, yes, his manners, but he is so much older than I am. He is like an uncle to me.”

“He wishes to marry again, and he’s taken quite a liking to you these past months. It is a perfect match.”

“How is it perfect? He has grown children—”

“Yes, his eldest daughter has just been engaged to a naval officer.”

“She is younger than I!”

“Indeed she is, and that is precisely the point.” Mother’s sharp tone pinched at her insides. “You should be married already. You’ve turned down two proposals, and I cannot allow you to dally any longer. Your bloom is passing.”

“I am but two and twenty, Mother.”

“I was seventeen when I first married. And your sister nineteen,” said Mother. “And judging from your recent behaviour, you need a firm hand to guide you, and Sir Reginald is certainly such a one.”

It seemed they’d told Mother about her little adventure with Charles Montclare. Her heart sank. A night that she’d been so looking forward to had now suddenly become tainted. “I always thought I would be able to choose a husband. You’d always said I would.”

“Having already rejected two perfectly good offers—”

“They most certainly were not perfectly good in any way. I did not even like either gentleman.”

“Knowing that you have done so, men will be loathe to pursue you. You’ve become quite willful and reckless much like your late father, unfortunately,” Mother said. “I will not have it. Your marrying well is not the game you seem to think it is. It is essential to all of us.”

“I know it’s not a game. I never said it was.”

“My darling.” Philippa squeezed her arm. “Tonight, the two of you shall dance, and tomorrow…”

Her breath caught in her chest. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, all the arrangements shall be made,” her mother said. “He shall come to the house and ask for your hand, and you shall accept him.”

Georgina’s pulse pounded, and her throat burned. Her mother, Philippa, and John wanted her and Sir Reginald to be seen together this evening. Seen dancing, seen talking. A pair expected to …

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