Page 24 of Ironvine

Hugh was dealt cards as he chatted with Amanda. Thomas told a ridiculous anecdote, and everyone at the table laughed. Georgina laughed. Georgina ordinarily wouldn’t have found that tale amusing. She would have been the first to roll her eyes and share the irony with him.

Charles retreated from the table and made his way out of the clogged room, grabbing a fresh glass of wine from a servant’s tray and swallowing the liquor down.

* * *

“She’s magnificent, isn’t she?”Hugh came up alongside him where he stood watching the dancing.

Charles rubbed his temple. The ache in his head would not cease. “Which female are we discussing?”

“My chosen bride.”

“At last. Who is she?”

“The adorable Georgina, of course. She’s far from the little scamp she used to be, raising her nose at us, always talking back, fiddling with her bow and arrow.”

“Ah, you remember her then?”

“I remember. And I very much like what I see now. She has a fine profile, an elegant nose, and good teeth. She’s not short, certainly not plain, an inquisitive mind, witty, gracious, lively. Lovely dancer. Money and not a bad pedigree. Exquisite bosom. She’s tailor-made for me.”

“You think so?”

“Out of all the females here tonight—nay, out of all the females I’ve met in London this season—I’ve enjoyed her company and dancing most of all. And I very much want her for my bed and for my wife.”

“Find someone else.”

His head jerked back. “Do you want her for yourself, old boy?”

“Miss Georgina and I are friends.”

Hugh laughed. “You can still be friends when she’s your sister-in-law.”

“I would not wish to see her wounded in any way.”

“Wound my wife? Why would I ever do such a thing?”

So like father. Arrogant, selfish…

“She deserves a real husband, Hugh. Not simply a title and a house and the obligatory heirs to bear. Georgina is a good girl.”

Hugh held his brother’s gaze, his jaw suddenly harder. “Have you tried to talk her out of accepting me?”

Georgina’s desperate countenance flashed before his eyes. He had to help her, even if…

“No, I’ve done no such thing.” He brushed a hand down his lapel. “In fact, she told me that her sister and brother are favouring another gentleman for her hand. And he is here tonight.”

“Does she favour this man?”

“No,” he pushed the word out his lips.

“Excellent.”

Music swelled around them. Another dance had begun. Hugh suddenly stiffened, muttering a curse under his breath.

Charles followed his brother’s attention to the dance floor.

Georgina danced, and her partner was the Duke of Oakley. Next to them danced the Duchess with Georgina’s brother-in-law, John. Oakley and Georgina spoke, her countenance demure but pleased. Rather, the Duke did most of the talking, and Georgie was the perfect lady. Listening, nodding, smiling, replying briefly, to which His Grace smiled upon. And on and on it went.

Charles’s black heart thudded in his chest. Was this simply a coincidence that Oakley had asked Georgina to dance?

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