Inheriting Trouble: A Sweet Regency Romance (The Bequest Series Book 1) Page 5

  Charles gazed at his companion with speculation glowing in his eyes. “You have no need for any extra blunt, so I have no idea why you’d be trying to hide an heiress from me. Why would you bother setting your sights on an heiress anyway?”

  Crispin struggled to keep his growl contained. “I’m not setting my sights on anyone, Layton. Don’t go starting any such hideous rumours.”

  Charles’ chuckle was almost friendly. “Pay me no mind, my lord. Your secret is safe with me.”

  The earl doubted that, but there was nothing else he could do to salvage his mistake. Shrugging, he turned away from both the sight of the Sherton ladies and the pest by his side. Hailing another passing gentleman, his forced disinterest soon became reality as he forgot about the newest maiden in Town and became absorbed in the political discussion he was involved with. It wasn’t until halfway through the evening that he would recall the brief exchange and wish Lord Charles Layton to perdition for not the first time.

  Georgia made every effort to keep her amazement under control. Vicky had assured her the evening would not be a squeeze. She wondered how many more people would need to be jammed into one set of rooms in order for the gathering to gain that description. As it was, it felt to Georgia as though the room were filled wall to wall with people. She said as much to Vicky.

  “Oh no, Georgie. Don’t you see that we can easily walk around and converse reasonably well with people? At a gathering that would be termed a crush, you would barely be able to hear me and it would be challenging to navigate the room.”

  Georgia examined her friend’s face to verify if she were indeed telling her the whole truth, at least from her own perspective. Vicky’s face and posture exuded seriousness. Georgia had to believe her. She was not teasing, and Vicky was far more experienced about ton ways than Georgia so she ought not doubt her friend’s word. But it was difficult to believe that anyone would enjoy attending such a crowded gathering. With a mental shrug, she added to the list of odd things she had taken note of about highborn Society and decided it mattered little. She was following Vicky’s lead during her visit and would have no say over which events they were to attend no matter how crowded they might be predicted to be. She would merely thank her blessings that her first official event was no more crowded than it was.

  Glancing around, she was happy to see that she recognized a few faces. They had met with a few of those present when they had been making calls earlier that day. And through the crowd, into the next room, she was almost certain she had glimpsed the back of Lord Crossley’s head. Not that she really knew what the back of his head looked like, but it had struck her as familiar, and a small frisson of recognition went through her. She shook her head. It would certainly not do for her to become fixated on the haughty earl. Nothing but heartbreak was at the end of that particular path. She pushed the man from her thoughts and renewed her determination to enjoy the evening.

  “Is that not the most fascinating piece of sculpture you’ve ever seen?”

  Georgia was startled from her perusal of said sculpture by the sound of a deep voice just behind her. She turned with a small smile to acknowledge the man’s words. They had not been introduced, and she was unsure if she should engage in conversation with him, but she couldn’t bear to be rude. Or rather, it seemed rude to her not to acknowledge his words. Perhaps she was out of line. Her indecision must have been written on her face.

  “Forgive me, my lady, it was evident that we were both admiring the piece. But you are right, we have not yet been introduced. I will find someone to do the honours and return to you.”

  Georgia watched in fascination as the man disappeared into the crowd as quickly as he had appeared. She glanced back toward Vicky, who had been caught up in a conversation with another young lady and hadn’t witnessed the strange exchange. Georgia acknowledged to herself that it couldn’t even be rightly called an exchange, as she hadn’t even spoken to the man. She shook her head. What a strange evening.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” Vicky asked, keeping her tone low in the crowded room so Georgia had to strain to hear her.

  She smiled at her friend’s attempt at discretion.

  “I am, indeed. I just had a strange encounter, though, with a gentleman who remarked upon the sculpture I was admiring. But then he disappeared into the crowd.”

  “Oh, who was it?” Vicky turned to look.

  “I have absolutely no idea. We have not been introduced, and I’ve never seen him before. You do remember this is my first full day in London.”

  Vicky smiled at Georgia’s dry tone.

  They made their way into another room where music was being played and a few couples were making up a country dance. Georgia grinned. Her feet would be delighted to do some dancing.

  “Good evening, Lady Vigilia, how pleasant to see you here this evening.” They were startled by a deep voice behind them, and both girls turned to see who was addressing them.

  “Oh, good evening, Lord Layton. How do you do?” Vicky replied politely, but Georgia noticed the reserve hidden in her tone.

  “I am well, thank you. It seems you have a new friend with you.”

  Vicky’s laugh was light and brief. “This is not a new friend. She is, in fact, my oldest friend, Miss Georgia Holton.” Turning to Georgia, she finished the introductions. “Georgia, might I present the viscount, Lord Charles Layton?”

  Georgia dipped into an appropriate curtsy nearly overwhelmed with curiosity about the gentleman, although everything in her was alert to be on guard over Vicky’s obvious hesitance. Realising it would only be obvious to her because of their long acquaintance, Georgia admired her friend’s social skills.

  She had yet to even say a greeting to the man when he quickly launched into speech. “Might I have the pleasure of your hand when the next set forms?”

  Her gaze flew to Vicky’s. She knew her friend was on guard about this man but had no idea why. He seemed well spoken, socially acceptable, even handsome. And Vicky had said he was a viscount. It really mattered very little why Vicky was guarded about the man. There was nothing Georgia could say except, “It would be a pleasure, my lord, thank you.”

  While they waited, they would have to make conversation. Vicky didn’t seem to have much to say, and Georgia was just thinking that she would have to step into the silence when the viscount spoke up.

  “Where do you come from, Miss Holton?”

  “Not too far from the Shertons,” she answered briefly, without supplying any details.

  “Ah, yes, she did say you are her oldest friend. How nice.” His tone left Georgia feeling as though she ought to contribute something more.

  “Are you very familiar with Wiltshire, my lord?”

  “Not overly. In fact, I’ve never visited Pembroke. But it’s not too terribly far from Bath, is it? I’ve been there, of course.”

  “Of course,” she murmured, feeling laughter wanting to bubble up her throat and hoping fervently her amusement did not display itself upon her features. Vicky would either kill her or die of mortification if she were to insult a viscount by laughing at him. She didn’t bother commenting on how far she lived from Bath. It wasn’t overly far if she understood correctly, but she didn’t want to admit to this man that she had never been there.

  She was relieved when the musicians drew the current dance to a close and announced the next one. Her relief was deepened to hear it was a cotillion, but it did not appear there would be too many couples so it needn’t last forever. With all the changes, she wouldn’t have to engage in much conversation with the viscount.

  But she needed to say something. “You didn’t mention where you are from, my lord. I am sure most everyone here knows who you are and where you live, but since I’m new to Town, I must confess my ignorance.”

  The viscount grinned at her. Georgia realized if she had read up on her Debrett’s or memorized it, as Lady Sherton had advised, she would not have needed to ask this. She had thought the advice was useless when she ha
d heard it, but now she was facing the reality that Lady Sherton knew what she was talking about. With an inward sigh, she looked at the viscount expectantly, hoping he would not remark upon her mistake.

  “That is quite all right, my dear,” he began, his tone slightly condescending. “My father is the Marquis of Swinton. His primary seat is in Norfolk.”

  “Oh, it must be lovely there,” she remarked.

  He grinned again. He probably thinks I’m angling for an invitation, Georgia thought before realizing with dawning horror, Or he thinks I’m anticipating the potential of making it my home one day. Her stomach turned as she realized how ridiculous this Marriage Mart truly was. She immediately questioned the wisdom of accompanying her friend even for only two weeks.

  She had to brazen her way through the awkward moment and waited for him to speak next. Blessedly the steps separated them for a moment and she was able to pretend she had no such thoughts and merely looked at the viscount expectantly.

  “My father is certainly proud of the place,” was his only comment.

  There was more silence between them. It wasn’t truly awkward as the steps of the dance made conversation, not impossible, but certainly unnecessary. Georgia began to enjoy herself once more. She should not have let down her guard. Once more, they came together.

  “I have heard you are an heiress, Miss Holton. Was your father in trade?”

  Georgia nearly stepped on his foot, she was so surprised. She wondered what was the best way to handle the gentleman. She decided on the truth.

  “I find you are being impertinent, my lord. I am not an heiress.”

  “Ah, he did say he wasn’t supposed to say anything. Why the secrecy?”

  “Who said this to you?”

  Now, the viscount turned sly. “If you are going to keep secrets, then I think so will I.”

  Georgia felt her colour ebbing and then flooding back as she realized Lord Crossley must have been gossiping about her. She had to contain her fury. It would not do to kick the viscount in the shins and stomp off to find the earl. Instead, she offered her dance partner the sincerest smile she could muster and changed the subject.

  “Do you come to London for the Season every year, my lord?”

  “Of course, what else is there to do?”

  Georgia almost rolled her eyes as she thought of the myriad other things they could be doing. “Are you involved in Parliament then?”

  “No, the marquis doesn’t trust me with any of the seats.” His words confirmed to Georgia just how very indolent the viscount was. Even his father didn’t trust him to be able to do the work.

  “That is unfortunate,” she murmured.

  “Not really. I am just as happy to leave all that to others.”

  Georgia knew her smile was wan but could muster no enthusiasm for continuing the conversation. She perked up when she heard the music coming to a conclusion.

  When the viscount returned her to Vicky’s side, Georgia dipped into another curtsy. “Thank you, my lord.” She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t have much good to say about the experience. Vicky saved either of them from having to speak further.

  “We really ought to be checking in with my mother, Georgia.”

  “Of course,” Georgia answered with a smile.

  “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Holton. Might I call upon you one day this week?”

  Georgia blinked but quickly recovered. “I cannot say for certain which days we shall be at home, my lord, as we have just arrived in Town. But we are sure to run into you somewhere throughout the week, I am sure.”

  It would seem the lazy viscount wasn’t stupid and did have a sense of humour to redeem him. He chuckled. “Very well, Miss, I accept that I am being dismissed. I will allow it for now. You can be sure you will be seeing me.” With a bow that encompassed them both, he departed.

  When their gazes met, both girls had to bite their lips to keep from bursting into laughter.

  “That was an experience to write home about,” Georgia commented. “The daft man asked me about being an heiress. I could hardly credit it, but it would seem the earl has been telling tales.”

  “No!” Vicky exclaimed. “I did not think he would be so churlish.”

  Georgia giggled. “Which one? The viscount or the earl?”

  “Both, really,” Vicky replied with a grin. “I didn’t think Layton would press you on such a subject, nor did I think Crossley would reveal what we told him was a confidence.”

  Georgia shrugged. “It would seem men are just as subject to gossip as the old women in the village.”

  Vicky giggled. “You are right about that. But so my words aren’t a lie, let’s go find the countess and see if my sisters are intent on remaining here much longer.”

  After they spoke briefly with Lady Sherton and found out that Rosabel was having too good a time to consider leaving any time soon, the girls wandered to another room.

  “Your mother seems quite intent on arranging a match for Rosabel,” Georgia commented.

  “Well, it is her third season, and there are five of us girls,” Vicky reminded her. “It would seem a daunting task to the most stalwart, I am sure.”

  Georgia giggled. “At least Bel is beautiful. She must have received many offers.”

  “Myriads if you could believe her. But I am sure she has received many. And in all honesty, I cannot blame her for being choosy. It is a momentous decision. It is the rest of her life she has to decide about.”

  Georgia felt a shudder slither down her back at the thought of the seriousness hidden by the seemingly joyous events of the Season. “Does it worry you?”

  Vicky shrugged. “I have time. And I have the advantage of being able to watch my sisters make their choices first.” She turned her searching gaze upon Georgia. “What about you? It seems to me, you are in the same boat. Even worse, now that I think on it. You will need to marry as well as possible, and your choices are more limited. Unless you find someone while you’re here.” Vicky seemed to warm to her subject. “You truly ought to try, Georgie. Wouldn’t it be far better to marry a member of the ton? There would be a much better chance of us seeing each other in the future. And wouldn’t you be in a better position to help your brothers and sisters if you could become a peeress?”

  “Really, Vicky, have you taken leave of your senses? Which peer is going to marry a country bumpkin with a ten-pound dowry and three or four hungry siblings in tow, depending if Gregory is around or not? I’m not that good looking, and I might even be considered a bluestocking.”

  Ever loyal, Vicky insisted, “You are beautiful, especially now that you have the assistance of proper hairstyling. I must say I have never seen you look better than you do tonight. If Rosabel was not so self centered, I would think she would be green with envy of your looks this evening, but I dare say she didn’t even take notice. And I would be absolutely mortified except that I love you dearly.”

  Georgia giggled along with her friend but then sobered as Vicky continued. “And while I know you are a bluestocking, you are quite adept at hiding it, so I do not think it would necessarily hold back any of the gentlemen. Only the fortune hunters would truly care about a lack of funds on your part. Or those seeking a dynastic marriage for some reason. But you are eligible enough, sociably speaking. I am absolutely certain you could find any number of eligible gentlemen who would be honoured to take you as their bride. Since you don’t have your heart set on anyone back home, I don’t see why you wouldn’t consider it.”

  “But Vicky,” Georgia almost pleaded as she tried to get her friend to see reason. “Don’t you see? I would feel at a disadvantage if I come to a marriage so lopsided. I was not raised to it like you were. I’ve been raised to bring my skills to a marriage. And my ten pounds is supposed to be an asset, not the punchline to a joke.”

  Vicky refused to give in. “You, Georgia Holton, would be the asset you would bring to any marriage. Any man, whatever his circumstances, would be lucky to have yo
u.”

  Georgia felt tears well in her eyes from her friend’s kindness. “You are the best friend ever, Vicky, and I thank you for your kindness, but I still don’t think I want to find myself a husband amongst the ton.”

  Vicky sighed and relented. “Very well, I shan’t press you further now, but I reserve the right to bring this up for discussion at another time.”

  There wasn’t much else Georgia could do but grin over her friend’s words. Then she felt a shiver of awareness slither deliciously up her spine. She turned her head and wasn’t overly surprised to see the earl, Lord Crossley, approaching.

  Chapter Seven

  Georgia turned back to face Vicky, wondering how to correctly handle the situation. She wanted to ring a peel over the wretched man but did not want to cause an ill-bred scene to embarrass the Shertons. She wasn’t even sure if she could rely on Vicky to help her out of the awkward situation, as her eyes were brimming over with mirth.

  “Good evening, Lady Vigilia and Miss Holton. What a pleasure to see you here.”

  “My lord,” Georgia acknowledged with a barely perceptible curtsy and her tone devoid of warmth while avoiding eye contact. Vicky maintained perfectly appropriate behaviour, dipping low and murmuring, “How do you do?”

  “Miss Holton, might I have the pleasure of your company when supper is served?”

  “Will you gossip about it like a maiden aunt if I refuse?” she countered, ice dripping from her voice.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Georgia would have grinned over his shock if she were not too livid to appreciate the humour. It was doubtful the wretch had ever been denied in his life. He probably thought he misheard, she surmised.

  “I would rather starve than go in to supper with you,” she stated in a low but clear voice. Georgia was well aware it was socially unacceptable to refuse such an invitation, that calling it an invitation was just being polite, but she couldn’t find it within herself to care.

  The earl gazed at her blankly for a moment before bursting into laughter. “You are most definitely an original, Miss Holton.” When he realized that she wasn’t even slightly joking, he sobered. “Might I ask what has led you to take me in such dislike that you cannot even share a meal with me?”