Page 21 of The Cornish Lyon

He halted and turned towards her. “I’m beginning to realize that you are something of a character, Mrs. Carlyon.”

She laughed out loud. “You’ve only just noticed? I am afraid I must own that Aunt Patience did not think my being ‘something of a character’ was a trait a young lady should possess.”

“On the contrary. I believe it to be something all young ladies should aspire to have. It makes you so much more interesting.”

She froze, narrowing her eyes at him in suspicion. Just what did he mean by that? For a long moment she regarded him in something akin to confusion, wondering what it was about him that inspired her own interest in him. He was so very different from Alexander. No. She would make no comparisons. Impossible now, anyway, as with her proximity to Fitz her memory of Alexander had dimmed to a hazy image only.

She tugged on his arm. “Come. Let’s get home to make sure Ellis has found us the staff to care for our horses, for I fear you are not the sort who likes to get his hands dirty in a stable.”

His eyes twinkled at her. “On the contrary. I looked after my own horse while on campaign in Spain, I’ll have you know. You’ll not be holding that over me, Mrs. Carlyon.”

And with that they continued on their way home.

Chapter Eleven

Their new horses having been installed that very afternoon along with two eager to please grooms and a middle-aged coachman, all was ready for their visit on the following day to Fitz’s sister. However, by the morning, Georgiana was suffering from some very unusual nerves, not helped by a bout of morning sickness, and was wondering if this was going to turn out to be a good idea.

She sat at her dressing table while Havers styled her hair for her, brooding on what lay ahead of her that day in silence.

What was Fitz’s sister going to think when he turned up with a young woman she would no doubt consider to be a nobody on his arm? She was much older than her brother, so might well be protective of him. For the first time in Georgiana’s life, her humble origins mattered to her. She couldn’t quite work out why they might have suddenly become so important, though. Very puzzling. That this feeling might be something to do with Fitz himself did not occur to her.

Yesterday, Fitz had insisted on putting both their names on the calling card they’d sent round to his sister’s house – Captain and Mrs. Carlyon.

Mrs. Carlyon.

That made her sound old and staid and matronly. She couldn’t quite get used to being referred to in that way, nor of thinking of herself as a married woman. After all, they were married in name only, weren’t they? She’d decided before she’d even met Fitz that she would not be sharing a bed with whoever she married. And he’d complied with that without a murmur of dissent, which had pleased her. Hadn’t it?

Only now…

No. She was being shallow and foolish and what she was feeling for Fitz was just an infatuation because he was being so nice to her and was so handsome and because she liked his sense of humor and he was so handsome and…

No indeed. She’d been caught like that before and look where it had got her. Acknowledging her feelings for Alexander as having been an infatuation had surprised her at first, but common sense, added to the fact that she could no longer even recall his face, had drummed it in. She’d been naïve and easily persuaded by her bodily passions and his insistence that they would soon marry, and she wasn’t about to allow that to happen again. Even if she was now married. At least, not yet…

Also, there was her own condition. If his sister discovered her secret…their secret…well, that would be more than embarrassing. It would be the ultimate in humiliation. And it was not her humiliation she was afraid of.

It was his.

This also surprised her. Why was it she was worried about what his as yet unknown sister would think of him for marrying an already increasing wife? For money. Why did it matter? The most annoying thing about all of this was that she could not work out the whys and wherefores of anything, and she was very used to being able to understand her own emotions. Only not now. Not since that fateful night when she’d given herself to a man she now was certain she hadn’t been in love with. In lust with, maybe, and carried away by his arousing lovemaking, but not in love. All she knew was that she would never allow lust to rule her again.

Havers patted a final curl into place and stood back to admire her creation.

Georgiana ignored her.

What was this Marianne going to be like? Suppose she didn’t like her brother’s new wife? Suppose she told the rest of his family not to like her. She was bound to be shocked that her younger brother had married so precipitately. The whole family would turn their noses up at her because her father had been in trade.

She knew it.

Havers cleared her throat. “Very pretty you look this morning, if you don’t mind me saying so, Miss Georgiana.”

Georgiana returned to earth and peered at her reflection. “Oh. Oh yes. Thank you, Havers. Perfect.” But she wasn’t really seeing anything when she looked into that mirror as her thoughts were still far away.

With difficulty she returned from her inner turmoil and focused on her own reflection.

It would be a good idea to be looking her best to meet a lady from high society, from the haut ton itself. Possibly a suit of armor might have been more use than an elegant pale blue muslin gown. She straightened her spine and drew herself up as tall as she could, which wasn’t much. She was a Frampton, and she could face any foe she might find before her. She would meet Marianne, Lady Fortescue, like the warrior she was. She rose to her feet and with a determined smile for Havers, headed for the bedroom door. She might feel like Marie-Antoinette riding a tumbril to the guillotine, but she would do so with pride.

Lady Fortescue’s butler opened the door to them in Cavendish Square without a flicker of expression for either Fitz or Georgiana. He was a tall thin man with a long nose and heavy bags beneath his eyes, his skin generously pockmarked by previous suffering from smallpox. Georgiana had to force herself not to stare, which would have been terrible bad manners.

He showed them into her ladyship’s parlor on the first floor, and Georgiana was at last afforded her first sight of Fitz’s sister.