Chapter Six

Georgie hurried from the bookshop, not about to let Lord Edgethorne catch up with her and turn her down again. Grabbing Millie's elbow, she pulled the maid down the Mayfair street, quickly turning a corner.

"But this isn't the way home, my lady," the maid protested. "And you're practically running."

She slowed a bit, still walking briskly. "I simply thought we would go down this street, Millie."

The servant's eyes narrowed. "What have you gotten yourself into, my lady?" Millie stopped in her tracks. "It wasn't a gentleman you went inside to see, was it? Oh, Her Grace will have my head if you've been sneaking off seeing some gentleman."

Georgie now altered her pace to a normal walk. "I did happen to see our neighbor, Lord Edgethorne, while in the bookstore."

"Who?"

She remembered the maid was fairly new to their household, having come with Sophie when she wed James at the end of last October.

"You know the garden in the middle of our square? On the other side of the street, out of view, is another townhouse. It belongs to Lord Edgethorne."

"Oh," Millie said, slightly placated.

"And I did ask him to come to tea," she continued. "I told him Mama will send over a formal invitation. He is new to his title, you see, and recently home from the military. I thought it would be nice for him to meet His Grace since he also is new to his title and of a similar age."

They walked the several blocks back to the Seaton townhouse and just before they reached it, Millie asked, "Where is the book you went to purchase, my lady?"

"Oh, one of the pages was torn," she lied. "The clerk pointed it out when I went to purchase it. He did not wish to sell me a damaged copy, and so they will order a new one for me. They will send a note around when it comes in."

They entered the townhouse, and Georgie removed her spencer. She handed it and her reticule to Millie, asking that the maid take the items up to her bedchamber for her. Then she found the footman whom she had asked to stand watch outside the bookshop and passed him a coin.

"Thank you for helping me out today, Freddie," she said.

"Happy to oblige, my lady," he said, pocketing the coin. "It wasn't far to the tearoom where you were." He paused. "Don't worry, my lady. I won't say a word to anyone."

She hoped not.

Georgie hadn't known if August Holt would return to the bookshop. It was the only clue she had to go on, though, so she had sent one of their footmen to stand across the street and watch those who entered. She had described the gentleman as best as she could and told Freddie if he entered the bookshop, to come and find her. She would either be at the modiste or the tearoom next door.

Madame Dumas had been surprised to see her since she had no appointment. She had been able to try on a few more gowns, however, and then extended her visit by looking at numerous fabrics. When she had outstayed her welcome, she had told Millie they would stop for tea. They had dawdled there, and Georgie was about to leave when she saw Freddie peering through the window, motioning to her.

Quickly, she had paid their bill and hurried Millie down the street to the bookshop, telling the maid she had forgotten she was to return to pick up a book which they had not carried yesterday but had gotten from another bookseller.

Georgie went to find Mama now and located her arranging flowers, one of her favorite pastimes.

"Hello, darling. What have you been up to?"

"A little of this and that," she said vaguely. "But I did run into our neighbor, Lord Edgethorne, at the bookshop a few minutes ago."

"Oh, he was out in public? That surprises me."

"Why so?"

"I saw the death notice in the newspapers of Lord Edgethorne's passing last summer. His older son, Lord Peter, has been in failing health for many years and rarely sets foot from their townhouse."

"That is not the Lord Edgethorne I met, Mama. It is the other son. Lord August. He is home from the military. He mentioned his brother's passing."

Mama looked perplexed. "I had no idea he was gone. I saw no notice in the newspapers."

"Perhaps the new Lord Edgethorne did not place a notice there. He said he had returned home last summer from the Peninsular Wars."

"I suppose that could be the case," Mama agreed. "Lord Peter's solicitor should have handled that. He must not have done so, or I possibly could have missed the announcement."

"Anyway, I thought it would be nice to ask him for tea. I told him that you would send an invitation around to him. He was otherwise engaged today and tomorrow afternoon, but he could come the day after. I think it would be good for him to meet James. They seem to be close in age, and they both are new to their titles."

"That is an excellent idea, Georgina. I will write the marquess a note now and ask him to come. That will give James and Sophie plenty of time to plan their own schedules so that they will be here to greet Lord Edgethorne."

Georgie escaped before Mama could ask any more questions, such as how Georgie might even have known who Lord Edgethorne was since they had never met. Hopefully, that would not come up in their conversation at tea.

She went to the music room and escaped into Bach.

*

August had notwanted to show up for tea at the Duke of Seaton's wearing his father's old clothes. Ragland had been right. August was close to his father in size but just enough different so that the coats were slightly tight in the shoulders and the sleeves a quarter-inch too short. While he hadn't minded during his time in the country, sitting down with a duke and two duchesses was quite another matter. He had moved in Polite Society before he left for war and knew many of the unwritten rules. A gentleman showing up for tea with his wrists showing would be in the poorest of taste.

He had returned to his tailor's shop, explaining that he had an important social engagement with a duke. Ragland immediately understood August's dilemma and said he would have a complete ensemble waiting for the marquess in time for his appointment.

He now stood, being fussed over by Ragland and an assistant. A second assistant had been sent to the shirtmaker's to retrieve a shirt or two, along with a new cravat, for August. His boots would not be ready, but Pole, the shared valet he had inherited from his father and Peter, had polished August's military boots so that they gleamed.

Ragland held out the coat, and August slipped his arms into it. The tailor fiddled with the sleeves a moment and then stepped back, inspecting his client.

"You cut a fine figure, my lord," Ragland told him.

Left unsaid was how his face would never live up to his build.

"Ease out of that coat and try on this second one, my lord," the tailor instructed.

He did so, thinking the fit of this coat as good as the first.

Ragland nodded sagely. "We will keep one and allow you to leave wearing the other," he declared. "The one which remains behind will be a model for us as we work on the rest of your wardrobe."

"Then I will take the one I am wearing," he said, liking the dark brown color of the coat, which picked up shades of brown and sage from the waistcoat.

Ragland nodded in approval. "You are set for your appointment with His Grace."

"Thank you for finishing this for me," he told the tailor and assistants. "I will feel more comfortable being appropriately dressed. Two duchesses will also be present, as well as a couple of the previous duke's daughters."

"Then it is a good thing you came to me and shared your plans," the tailor said. "More of your wardrobe will be finished by next week. How long do you plan to be in town, my lord?"

"Not long. There is no rush on the other items. I can claim them when I return for the Season in early April."

"Where is your country estate?" the tailor asked. "If it is not too far a journey, I am happy to bring things to you."

"In Kent. But do not worry about it. I can wear things from my father in the country. I have no engagements while I am there."

He caught the sympathetic look from Ragland and glanced away, his throat tightening.

"I will be off now, Mr. Ragland. Thank you again for dropping everything else and spending time to get me into proper attire."

"I am happy to be of service to you, my lord."

August gave him the name of his solicitor and asked that the bill be sent there. He had no secretary and saw no need for one. He could keep his own diary, doubting it would fill with many invitations.

Returning to his carriage, he asked to be taken home, where he spent an hour pacing in his study. Nerves flitted through him, worse than any he had ever experienced going into battle. He wanted these people to like him for himself, not for his appearance.

He wondered if Lady Georgina had told them of his facial scars and missing eye, preparing them.

Something told him she hadn't, and he tried to ready himself for the reactions he would receive, from the footman who answered the door to the butler who would take him up to tea.

And that didn't include those present at tea.

It was as he thought. The Seaton footman's shock when he answered August's knock. The butler quickly recovered, asking August to follow him upstairs to where the family waited in the drawing room. For a moment, he thought the butler might ask him to wait in the corridor so the servant might prepare the family for their guest's appearance.

Instead, the butler knocked and opened the door, announcing, "Lord Edgethorne has arrived, Your Graces."

The butler indicated for August to step into the room, and he did so with trepidation. Inside, his heart pounded wildly, in part because he felt he was going into battle. Another part of him, though, was eager to see Lady Georgina again.

As he crossed the room, the others stood. He avoided looking any of them in the eye, concentrating on Lady Georgina instead and not the intake of breaths he heard as the others took in his appearance.

She wore a gown of light blue, the shade complimenting her cornflower blue eyes. She also smiled at him, a genuine smile, as if she were truly happy to be in his company again.

August forced his eyes from her, turning toward the duke. His Grace was August's exact height, three inches over six feet, with a muscular frame. He had blond hair, however, and the same shade of blue eyes as his sister.

Two women stood on each side of him, one obviously his wife, since the duke had his arm about her waist. The duchess was Lady Georgina's height, with golden-brown hair and brown eyes. The other woman was young to his mind, possibly only ten years older than August and the duke. Could this be Lady Georgina's mother?

Seaton offered his hand to August, who took and shook it.

"We are happy to have you for tea today, Lord Edgethorne," His Grace said. "May I introduce to you my duchess?"

He took the duchess' hand and squeezed her fingers gently. In the past, August would have kissed her fingers. With her tall, strong husband standing in front of him, however, August kept his lips to himself.

"It is good to finally meet our neighbor," the duchess said. "Welcome, my lord."

"And this is the Dowager Duchess of Seaton," His Grace continued. "My stepmother."

That made sense. This duke's father must have lost his first wife and wed again, choosing a much younger woman to provide more sons. He recalled she instead provided the duke with four daughters.

The widow was very beautiful, her thick hair the color of molasses. Her eyes were blue, but more an azure shade than the cornflower of His Grace and Lady Georgina.

"I knew your father, my lord," the dowager duchess said. "I read of his death. My condolences."

"Thank you, Your Grace," he said. "We lost him—and my brother—last summer. It is why I now hold the title, something I had not expected."

"Then we have that in common," the duke said. "I became Seaton only last autumn. But let me introduce my sister to you."

The duke steered August toward an auburn-haired beauty. She was shorter than Lady Georgina but possessed the same eyes as her brother and sister.

"This is Lady Mirella," His Grace said. "She is the painter in our family and will be making her come-out this spring with her sister."

Taking the young lady's hand, August felt it safe to brush his lips against her fingers.

"I am delighted to meet you, my lord," Lady Mirella said, peering at him with great interest. "I have a tendency to be a bit talkative, but I promise to be on my best behavior today."

"And of course, you know Lady Georgina."

Looking once again to her, he took her offered hand, kissing her fingers. While he had felt nothing touching her sister's hand, August felt ripples of desire race through him as he held Lady Georgina's fingers.

"I am so glad you could fit tea with us into your schedule, my lord," she said demurely, but he saw in her eyes that she was aware of what was passing between them.

August released her hand, wishing he could snatch it back the moment he did so.

"Please, come and have a seat, Lord Edgethorne," Her Grace said, her husband leading her to a grouping of chairs and sitting next to her on a settee.

He found himself on a settee opposite them.

Next to Lady Georgina.

He caught the scent of roses and knew it came from her. He would like nothing better than to bury his nose against her neck. But that was something Old August would do. New August would sit straight and behave properly.

And never sneak kisses from this woman.

Much to his regret.

The teacart arrived, and the dowager duchess said, "You are not facing the usual crowd we have at tea, my lord."

"I know one of your daughters recently wed," he said pleasantly, as Her Grace began to pour out for them.

"Yes, usually Pippa and Seth would be here," Lady Mirella said. "We are also missing Aunt Matty, our sister Effie, and our two Strong cousins."

"While I am sure you miss your relatives, it helps me having fewer present so that I might learn names and who everyone is," he replied.

"My lord?" the duchess said, handing August a teacup and saucer. "I will let you prepare it as you wish."

The hour flew by. Everyone was gracious to him. No one brought up his injuries though Lady Mirella did ask August about his army days. Her mother had quickly changed the topic, saying that his lordship was safely at home and most likely did not wish to relive such times.

He was extremely comfortable in Their Graces' company. They talked of their two shipping empires, and he was astounded at just how much Her Grace did know about business, far more than the two men sitting in the room. Lady Mirella talked a bit about her paintings, and the dowager duchess told a story she recalled about August's mother and father. He recalled very little of his mother, and it was nice hearing her spoken of in such a positive way.

The only one who never spoke was Lady Georgina. He was aware of their legs and hips touching, thanks to the settee being smaller than usual or him being larger than most men. Probably a little of both. It was as if a humming occurred inside him, a buzzing that built. He wanted to take her hand, which would be outrageous. A woman such as her was not for him. August reminded himself he would be lucky to claim a homely wallflower from the Marriage Mart.

"You have been so quiet, Georgie," her sister chided gently. "You are the one who invited his lordship to tea."

Georgie . . .

August liked the nickname. It was playful. It suited her.

"I have already spoken to Lord Edgethorne. I wanted him to get to know the rest of you," she said. Turning to him, she added, "It is good that you have come when there aren't four more Strongs at tea. Things can get quite unruly."

He smiled at her. "I hope I will get to meet the others someday." He doubted it, though. While he lived across from these Strongs, he had no intention of returning to London again. He would find a wife and be done with town.

"We have mentioned the rest of us are in Kent, my lord," Lady Georgina continued. "Where is your country seat located?"

"Probably not far from your family's estate," he revealed. "Edgefield is in Surrey, but it is extremely close to the Kent border." He paused. "I have also learned from my solicitor recently that I have a manor house in Scotland. Dalmara. My solicitor only told me about it when I called upon him a few days ago."

"Is that in the lowlands or highlands?" Lady Mirella asked.

"The lowlands. Apparently, my mother brought it into the family when the marriage settlements were written. The property belonged to her maternal grandmother, and it passed to my grandmother and then mother. I will need to go and see it someday."

"You could do so if you eloped to Gretna Green," Lady Mirella said.

"Mirella Strong!" her mother declared.

"Sorry, Mama," her daughter said. "But I have always heard stories of couples eloping to Gretna Green. If Lord Edgethorne wishes to wed this Season, it would be convenient for him to marry there and then honeymoon at his property."

The dowager duchess shook her head. Looking to August, she said, "It has not always been easy, raising six girls."

"I have only met Lady Georgina and Lady Mirella, Your Grace, but judging by the two of them? I would say you have done an excellent job."

"You have a silver tongue, my lord," she retorted. "But I thank you, nonetheless."

"Will you be attending the Season?" the Duchess of Seaton asked.

"I plan to attend a few events," he said carefully.

"His Grace and I will do the same. We are rather busy, so we will only go to some of the events. His Grace has never been to any ton affairs. I want him to take his place in Polite Society, as well as help bring out Georgie and Mirella."

He looked to the duke. "I went to many balls and various parties during breaks from university. Hostesses are always looking for eligible men to dance with ladies making their come-outs. Too many men hide away in the card room."

His Grace shrugged. "I like cards well enough, but I will do my duty and make certain my sisters are properly introduced into Polite Society."

August wondered about Seaton calling his half-sisters his sisters, but it would be impolite to ask him why, especially in front of those sisters.

"Does anyone need any more tea?" Her Grace asked. "No? Then perhaps you could stay a bit longer, my lord. Georgie is an accomplished pianist. Perhaps you would care to hear her play."

He would stay as long as they allowed him to do so. Listening to Lady Georgina play the pianoforte would be a treat.

Because he could stare at her all he wanted to with good reason.

"I would consider it a privilege to hear Lady Georgina at the keys, Your Grace."