Chapter 23

It seemed a veritable crowd of guests had been seized by the urge to take the air at this precise point in the evening, and to do so in what was still known as the Duchess's Garden. Blinking, Georgie beheld the appalled faces of her aunt and Miss Spry, and the unattractive mixture of shock and prurient fascination that warred for prominence on the sharp countenances of Mary Debenham and her mother. The only person present who betrayed no distress at all was Alice Templeton, who seemed nothing but delighted, and appeared to be repressing the urge to cheer and do a little dance of celebration.

All these impressions penetrated her dazed brain in a matter of seconds, but she would never know how she might have reacted to them if left to herself, for Northriding recovered his wits much faster than she did. Perhaps, she was later to reflect bitterly, he had practice in dealing with disasters of this nature, and worse.

He did not release her, though his hands slid imperceptibly down to her waist, and he gave the tight bodice of her gown a warning squeeze. ‘Ladies,' he purred. ‘So many ladies! This is unexpected, but what a delightful surprise nonetheless, as you may be the first to congratulate us. Lady Georgiana has just this moment agreed to do me the honour of becoming my wife. I beg you will forgive me for my ardour, but I hope you will consider it excusable, and even understandable, in a newly betrothed man. Will you not wish us happy?'

Lady Louisa rose nobly to the occasion. Her blue eyes were a little wild, but her voice was reasonably steady as she said, ‘I suppose, sir, you should be censured for not applying first to Lord Irlam for his sister's hand, but we were, after all, aware that you were seeking a bride when we agreed to visit the Castle, and so perhaps his permission was implicitly given and your… ardour may indeed be excused. Please accept my congratulations, Northriding, Georgiana. I am sure I wish you very happy. And no doubt you will write to my nephew directly and set right your omission in formal terms.'

Miss Spry murmured approval, and Alice added her voice to the congratulations with enormous enthusiasm; from beneath her eyelashes, Georgiana saw the Duke's sculpted lips twitch appreciatively as he took in the full extent of Miss Templeton's most unflattering joy at the unexpected reprieve she had been given. She could see that he was amused, though she was not. Mary and Lady Debenham were obliged in common courtesy to express equal pleasure at the news, although it was obvious that it gave them considerable pain to do so. She could hardly doubt that they would spread the tidings of her indiscretion with lightning speed and lurid detail.

Georgie found she had recovered her wits, though she still dared not meet the Duke's eyes. By slow degrees she eased herself from his embrace, not without a pang of regret, if she were honest with herself, and stood by his side, fixing a false smile to her face. He took her hand and set it firmly on his arm, saying, ‘Perhaps we should go in and announce the happy news to the assembled guests, and this ball will become an engagement celebration. What do you think, my dear?'

‘Of course, sir,' she replied with tolerable composure. ‘I am sure everyone will be delighted for us. Let us go instantly.'

The next few hours were a blur to her. She was the object of general interest, and found herself embraced and wept over by Lady Blanche and Lady Georgiana Morpeth, and showered with congratulations by many other persons with whom she was not yet perfectly acquainted. Even in her dazed state she could not help but notice that the Mauleverer family and their tenants and servants seemed particularly delighted at the news – they anticipated, she realised, an heir for Northriding and the security that would bring to all their lives. Mr Summerson, the rector, pressed her hand with especial warmth, and told her that he thought she would make a wonderful duchess. ‘I am confident that you are just what Gabriel needs,' he said, ‘and what the house needs, and the estate and its people, though I know it cannot be expected that you should care for all that yet.'

She was obliged to begin a celebratory dance alone with the Duke, though the very many pairs of avid eyes upon them as they did so precluded the possibility of much private conversation. ‘So, you have your wish,' she said between gritted teeth. Her face was aching from smiling, and her head was pounding afresh.

He sighed. ‘What else could I do, my dear?' he whispered, and she knew that to anyone watching it would give the appearance of a tender endearment. ‘There was nothing else that could be said in that moment that would have saved the situation, and your reputation. I know you are angry, but do me the justice of admitting that.'

‘Of course I admit it. I am not a complete fool, though so often I behave like one. But was it really necessary to announce the matter immediately to the assembled party – to your family, your tenants, and half the nobility and gentry of the North of England? Do you wonder I feel trapped?'

‘I do not wish to trap you. No, do not scoff – I promise you I do not. How does it serve me? You know I have no taste for a reluctant bride, whether you or any other. But if I had not made the announcement that instant, it would have presented a very odd appearance – for what better occasion could there be to make the news public? – and given those two poisonous creatures a golden opportunity to spread damaging rumours about you. Now they cannot, or if they do nobody will regard it, for it would appear to be nothing less than sour grapes from a woman I have rejected. They will hardly want that, and so they must attempt to present at least an appearance of complaisance to the world.'

‘As must I.'

‘We can talk later. We must. You know this is not the time or the place, Georgiana. But for what it is worth, I am sorry. I hoped to persuade you to acknowledge the strength of what lies between us, not force your hand. Please believe me.'

And with that she was obliged to be content for now. When at last the ball was over and the guests had either called for their carriages or made their way to bed, and the last of the congratulations had been uttered with widely varying degrees of sincerity, His Grace was able only to whisper in her ear, ‘Shall I come to you tonight? To talk,' he hastened to add as he saw her stiffen.

‘No,' she replied. ‘Please don't. I will now be obliged to suffer a homily from Louisa – she has the right, you must admit. And after that I want nothing more than to sleep. I am too tired for more words tonight, or for anything else, for that matter.'

He kissed her hand to signify that he understood, and they parted. When they reached their tower – and the stairs seemed steeper and more numerous tonight than they ever had before – Louisa told Georgie with a significant look that she would look to see her in her chamber as soon as her maid had done undressing her. ‘Because I cannot have a serious conversation with you while you are still wearing that ridiculous gown,' she said. ‘The way his eyes devoured you when he saw you in it, I am sure it is half the cause… But never mind that now. I will see you in half an hour, Georgiana.'

When Georgie tapped upon her aunt's door a little while later, she found her in bed, wrapped in a red silk robe of Chinese design. Her dark hair was braided and lay across her shoulders in long plaits, and she looked tired, and somehow older than she did in the day when her defences were up.

‘I'm sorry, Louisa,' said her niece, sinking into the chair that sat beside the window, and resting her weary head against its back. ‘Truly I am. But I've said that before, haven't I? There is no reason you should believe me this time.'

‘What in heaven's name have you been about, Georgie? Has this been going on under my nose for all the time we have been here? I suppose it must have been, and I completely ignorant and absorbed in my own affairs, fool that I am! But good God, child, it has only been four days or so since we arrived! How have you travelled so very far so quickly?'

‘Less than that – three, I think. I can't tell; it makes my head spin to think of it, but I agree, it does seem much longer.'

‘However did you begin it? Has he been making love to you in secret since the very day you met him? How is that even possible? I do not understand anything! I knew you were reckless, but this…'

‘It began before,' said Georgie, too tired now to dissimulate, and without expression she told her aunt all that had occurred since her first meeting with the Duke, though she did not reveal Miss Spry's knowledge of her actions. Louisa listened in stunned silence and when she had done said again, ‘Good God. What Hal will say… Well, that settles it. You must marry him now.'

‘I don't know. I suppose I must.'

‘It's partly my fault, for if I had not followed you tonight… I saw you leave, and thought you seemed distressed; Miss Templeton told me you were seeking fresh air, and said she believed she knew where you would go, and offered to show me. Jane tried to stop me, said I should leave you be, but I did not heed her, and spoke sharply to her. I suppose those odious Debenham creatures scented some scandal when they saw us arguing, and followed us in that excessively ill-bred and inquisitive manner. What a catalogue of disasters. I did not know they were at our heels until it was far too late.'

Her niece shrugged. ‘Perhaps Alice saw him come after me, and did it all on purpose. I know she had hoped I might marry the Duke instead of her; well, she has her desire. It hardly matters now, does it?'

‘Don't you want to marry him? You certainly seemed happy enough in his embrace – we can all vouch for that! You said just now that he asked you to marry him yesterday, and you refused him, but you did not say why. Make me understand, Georgie, please, because at present I do not. We cannot allow this match to go forward if there is something you are not telling me that is greatly to his discredit. You know Hal would never insist upon that, whatever the scandal it might cause. Has Northriding hurt you, and you are too embarrassed to tell me? Are you in fact afraid of him? Has he coerced you in some manner?'

‘No,' said Georgiana listlessly. ‘No, I have told you everything that has happened. It's not all his fault, you know, Louisa – we share the blame. He has not done anything I have not asked him to. Begged him, practically. And that's what I am afraid of.'

‘I warned you against his charm, did I not? Though God knows I had not the least idea how right I was!'

‘I don't think it's even that. I could say he had mesmerised me, could I not, and lay off the blame on him that way? But I don't think it would be true. He has said himself that there is something dangerous in each of us that calls to the other, so that we cannot stay apart even if we try. And I have tried. Of course,' she said with a little constraint, ‘he could have spun the same tale to every woman he has ever met, to get her into his bed. I expect it has worked a thousand times before, and certainly it has worked well enough now. I can have no way of knowing.'

‘Do you fear he will be unfaithful? Is that why you refused him?'

‘I fear he will, and for that matter I fear I will too, if we marry only to satiate our physical desires, however strong they may be. How can I know what I might do, what I might become, if I give in to this… this compulsion? It frightens me, Louisa, the strength of it! What would Mama say, or Papa, if they were here and saw me entering into that sort of marriage, so unlike their own? What would you think of me, or Hal, or Cassandra? They love each other! You love Jane! You are each of you very obviously happy with the person you have chosen as your partner in life. You would all be disgusted with me – oh, you would not say so, I dare say, but you would be. And when it came to it, so would I.'

‘Love might grow between you, if indeed you do have this… this connection. Could that not be the case, do you think?'

‘If I fell in love with him, the inevitable betrayal would be worse.'

Her aunt had no answer for this. ‘I must write to Hal, you know, and send my letter by the fastest means possible tomorrow. And he will come here, I expect, as quickly as he can.'

‘I know he will. I am sorry, Louisa,' she said again, ‘for this fresh disruption I have created for you all.'

‘Oh, go to bed, child!' said her aunt in fond exasperation. ‘You must be exhausted – I know I am – and perhaps things will look brighter in the morning. It is not every family,' she added with a gleam of humour, ‘that would see a betrothal to a highly eligible duke as a cause for heart-burnings. Most other people – witness the Debenhams – would be rejoicing at their good fortune!'

Georgie made no answer, but smiled wearily and bade her goodnight.