RALPH OPENED the door and smiled at his wife. "Hello, Georgiana," he said. "How did you know it was I?"
"Oh," she said airily, closing her book and tossing it onto the cushion beside her, "I have been expecting you.”
"Have you?" he asked, closing the door and crossing the room to sit in a chair close to her. "I hope I have not interrupted your reading."
"Not at all," she said. "I have been all of one hour trying to read through a single paragraph. I am not in the mood for books."
"Are you upset?" he asked. "I gather Mama has been talking to you."
"Of course she has," Georgiana said. "And she has really said everything that could possibly be said, Ralph. I do not believe that she has left one single word for you to add."
"She has upset you," he said, concerned. "I am very vexed that she should have done so, Georgiana. I wish you will not let her words prey on your mind."
"Why?" she asked curtly, swinging her feet to the floor and smoothing the muslin of her day dress over her knees. "Did you wish to have a clear field, Ralph?"
"I am not at all angry with you," he said. "I know you were not flirting with Roger last evening. I trust you more than to believe that of you. You have a good heart, and you are a good wife to me. Better than I deserve, I think."
"But you would still like it if I were just a little more discrcet," Georgiana said, looking up into his face and staring at him with stony eyes. "Lord Beauchamp, after all, has something of a reputation as far as ladies are concerned, and one has to be doubly careful not to encourage him, or who knows what sort of a wrong impression one might give to the gossipmongers? And I have the illustrious name of Chartleigh to uphold now. I cannot behave with the same careless freedom as when I was merely Georgiana Burton. Not that you are at all suspicious of me, of course. But still and all-"
"Good God!" Ralph leapt to his feet and looked down into his wife's cold eyes in some horror. "Is that what Mama said? Georgiana, they are not my words or my sentiments. I trust you. And I trust Roger. He is my cousin. We have always been very close despite our age difference."
"Well," Georgiana said, "am I not fortunate to have chosen to flirt in such a vulgar manner with your cousin? Perhaps you would be less trusting had I spent as much time last evening with a stranger."
"No," he said, coming and kneeling in front of her, the better to see her face. "That makes no difference, dear. I have seen nothing to disapprove of in your behavior. Please do not upset yourself. Come, smile at me and let me see the sparkle in your eyes again. I do not like to see you look so unhappy."
He smiled warmly up at her and held out a hand for hers. She did not respond to either invitation. She kept her hands folded in her lap and looked down at them.
"You are a fool, Ralph," she said quietly, "if you believe my behavior was blameless last night. I was flirting with Lord Beauchamp, and everyone was aware of the fact except you."
His hand remained stretched out toward her. There was a momentary silence.
"No," he said gently, "that is not so, Georgiana. Why would you do such a thing?"
"Because…" She looked up at him again, her eyes blazing. Because I wanted to make you jealous so that you would do something, she had been going to say. But those wide-open, vulnerable eyes were looking back at her, full of trust still. And she was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to hurt him quite viciously. She was hurting so badly herself. Let someone share her pain.
"Because I am bored!" she almost yelled at him. "Bored, bored, bored! Do you understand, Ralph? You bore me. Always so quiet and so gentle and so… so damned proper! Why should I not turn to other men for company and some excitement? Why should I not even take a lover, perhaps? Can you give me a reason? You are not even capable of making me your wife!"
And then she gazed, frozen with horror, into his eyes, which had lost their vulnerability. They had become opaque, dull. His hand was still held out before him, palm upward. He got to his feet and closed his eyes for a moment.
"Ralph," she said shakily. "Oh, please. I did not mean it. My wretched tongue! I have been in a devilish bad mood and have said what I did not mean."
He opened his eyes and looked down at her. His face was chalky white, even his lips, Georgiana noted in dismay. "You are right," he said, and she could tell what an effort it cost him to keep his voice steady. "I have not been a husband to you at all. And I am turning all your sweetness to bitterness. I wanted you as my wife. I loved you. But I had no business marrying you. I do not know the first thing about making a woman happy. I wanted to bring you happiness, and I have brought you misery. I…”
He drew a shuddering breath, but no more words would come. He stared at her in agonized silence.
"Ralph," she said, "it is not true. It is I who have been at fault."
"No!" he said harshly. "Never say that, Georgiana. I will not have you blame yourself. I must… I will.,." He paused and sighed in frustration. "I have to leave. Just do not feel guilty, please. There really is no need. You did not behave with any impropriety last night."
He turned and left the room hurriedly, even as she jumped to her feet and reached out her arms for him.
Lord Beauchamp arrived at Middleton House the following afternoon just as Georgiana was about to leave. The butler, as she came down the stairs to the hallway in her pelisse and bonnet, bowed and informed her ladyship that the visitor had been shown into the drawing room but had asked specifically for her.
"Oh, bother," Georgiana muttered. "Is there anyone in the drawing room?"
"Her ladyship, ma'am," the butler replied.
By which title Georgiana guessed him to mean her mother-in-law. Gloria had gone out with her aunt in the morning to shop for her trousseau and was not expected to return before dinner. Her mother had been indisposed and unable to accompany her. But she had obviously decided that she was un-indisposed, Georgiana thought nastily. Probably the recovery had been made when she heard that her daughter-in-law was on her way out to visit her parents.
Georgiana considered continuing on her way out of the house, but she sighed and turned to climb the stairs again to the drawing room. She continued to pull on her gloves as a footman opened the double doors for her.
"Good afternoon, Mother," she said. "Is your headache better? Good day, Roger." _
Lord Beauchamp was on his feet and bowing to her. "Good afternoon, Georgie," he said. "I see I have come calling at an inopportune moment. May I see you to your carriage?"
"I am going to Papa's," she said, "on foot."
"On foot? Georgiana! That will never do," the dowager said, surprised out of the icy silence with which she had received her daughter-in-law's greeting. "Would you have all our acquaintances believe that Chartleigh is too miserly to allow you the carriage?"
"By no means, Mother," Georgiana said calmly. "It is a mere ten-minute walk. By the time I order out the carriage, I shall be there already."
"You are taking your maid, my dear?"
"I had not planned to," Georgiana said.
"Then allow me to escort you, ma'am," Roger said. "It will set Aunt Hilda's mind at rest to know that you are properly accompanied."
Georgiana did not look to see how the dowager had received this dubious reassurance. She smiled at Lord Beauchamp.
"I had not thought that walking would be in your line, Roger," she said. "But I shall not refuse your offer Shall we go?"
A few minutes later they were walking along the street, her arm linked through his.
"Well, Georgie," he said, breaking the silence, "you are looking remarkably elegant. But a trifle out of sorts?"
"Oh, no, sir," she said. "Whatever makes you say so?"
"Nothing at all except a certain absence of inclination to talk," he said. "I believe that to be out of character."
"Oh," she said, "but then, it is not always easy to chatter away to a virtual stranger."
"A stranger?" he said, looking at her sideways, amusement on his face. "Do I take it that I must drop `Georgie' and address you as 'Countess of Chartleigh' again?"
"Oh, of course not," she said, dimpling. "What an absurd idea."
"I thought only your friends called you 'Georgie'," he said.
"And so they do," she replied.
"And how can I be both a stranger and your friend?" he asked.
She laughed lightly. "Ali," she said. "There you have me, Roger. It is just that I was very indiscreet the other night. It puts me to the blush just to recall how freely I talked to you."
"I was honored to be so confided in," he said. "And I have put my brains to work to quite an extraordinary degree in your behalf. I think I have the solution to your little problem."
"Indeed?" she asked guardedly.
"Assuredly," he said. "You wish to have a bolder, more assertive husband. Am I right?"
"Well," she said, "it is not that I do not like Ralph as he is."
"Oh, quite," he agreed. "But ladies, I have found, like to be able to relax in the knowledge that their men have… er, some little experience, shall we say?"
Georgiana blushed and stared straight ahead.
"I have thought that perhaps I can help my young cousin to gain that experience," Roger Beauchamp explained.
"What?" Georgiana squeaked. "You mean as in mistresses and such?"
"It cannot do Ralph any harm to sow some wild oats, can it, Georgie?" he asked. "And you stand only to gain, my dear, considering the present lamentable state of your marriage."
"I fail to see how I would gain from my husband's taking up with a- mistress, sir," Georgiana said caustically. "And what do you know of the state of my marriage, pray?"
"Oh, come now, Georgie," Roger said, laughing down at her. "You admitted to me at the Boothby's party that you are-shall we say?-in your maidenly innocence still."
"I said no such thing!" Georgiana said indignantly. "And how dare you speak to me of such a matter, sir!"
Roger stopped walking, threw back his head, and roared with laughter. "I really do not know how I dare," he said. "I could never have imagined myself having such a conversation with any lady, let alone the very young and very innocent wife of my cousin. But you started it all, you know, Georgie. You are the one who flirted quite outrageously with me and succeeded in arousing my interest in your affairs. 'Affairs' being not quite the word, of course."
"Well, I have never heard anything so outrageous in my life," Georgiana said. "Do you really have the nerve to suggest to me that I permit you to find my husband a mistress so that he may prove to be a better husband to me?"
Roger patted her hand on his arm and started walking again, "In short, yes," he said.
“I will not hear of it," she said.
They walked a few paces in silence. Around the next corner, they would be able to see her father's house.
"And did you have anyone in mind, pray?" Georgiana sked sharply.
"Certainly," he said. "When I think, Georgie, I think in practicalities."
"What is she like?" Georgiana asked.
"Are you sure you wish to know?" Roger said. He looked at her indignant face and laughed. "She is small and slim. A dancer."
"I don't like her," she said.
"You do not have to," Roger replied. "She is not unlike you in size, Georgie, but no match for you in looks or breeding. You need not be afraid that Ralph will become attached to her."
"I am not at all afraid of any such thing," she said. "He will never even see her."
"Oh, he has already done so," Roger said. "Did he not tell you that he attended the opera with me last night?"
"Roger," she said with ominous calm, "has this affair already begun? Is that what this insane conversation is all about?"
"Oh, by no means," Roger said. "He has seen her on the stage, you will understand, but he has not met her."
"You are to see to it that he never does meet her,"
Georgiana said. "Or any other… female. Do you understand me, Roger? If Ralph is ever unfaithful to me, I shall hold you personally responsible."
He laughed and patted her hand again. "This begins to look more and more interesting," he said. "You know, Georgie, I think you are a fair way to being in love with my young cousin."
"Nonsense," she said. "But Ralph is a sweet innocent. He needs to be protected from the world of mistresses and ladybirds. He would not know how to cope."
Roger roared with laughter again. "And you know everything there is to know about that world," he said. "Georgie! You are a veritable delight. I could almost find it in me to envy Ralph. I wonder if he will ever learn to cope with you."
"Hush," she said, "and pray do behave in a more seemly fashion. We are approaching my father's house and must already be visible from the windows."
"I am all gentlemanly decorum, ma'am," he said.
"Will you be leaving me at the door?" she asked.
"Oh, my no means," he assured her. "After walking all this great distance with you, my dear Lady Chartleigh, I shall at least come inside and pay my compliments to Miss Burton. She was gracious enough to dance with me the other evening."
Vera did not seem at all pleased with the courtesy he paid her. She was sitting in the green salon with her mother, having just bidden farewell to some other visitors. She rose and curtsied low to Lord Beauchamp, but her lips tightened and she did not raise her eyes. She sat down and picked up some embroidery.
"I walked over to see if you cared for a stroll in the park, Vera," Georgiana said. "I have not been out yesterday or today up until now and was beginning to feel as if my feet were about to send down roots. Lord Beauchamp arrived as I was about to leave and kindly offered to escort me here."
"How kind of you, sir," the viscountess said graciously, having just been presented to Roger. "Will you take tea?"
"Perhaps one cup, ma'am," he said, "before I retrace my steps and retrieve my horse from Middleton House. What delicate stitches you do, Miss Burton. It never ceases to amaze me how you ladies find the patience to produce such beauty and to cultivate personal charms and loveliness at the same time." He crossed the room to seat himself beside Vera.
"Mama," Georgiana said, taking a chair adjacent to her mother's after carrying the cup into which the viscountess had poured tea across to Roger, "have you received an invitation to Mrs. Hoby's soiree next week? Ours came this morning, but I do not know if we are to accept it. I have not seen Ralph yet today."
"Perhaps it is because most of us do not waste our time in such idle pursuits as visiting clubs and playing cards and going to the races, sir," Vera replied, not looking up from her work.
"Ah," Roger said. "I had not thought of that. If I gave up such wild pursuits, ma'am, would you undertake to teach me skill with a needle?"
Vera looked up in astonishment, her face relaxing unwillingly into a grin of pure amusement. "What an absurd idea," she said. "You make fun of me, sir."
"On the contrary," he said, his eyes fixed on her face. "I am trying my best to be agreeable since you appeared not to enjoy my conversation a few evenings ago.”
"I wish you would leave Georgiana alone," she said very quietly. Her mother and her sister were engaged in talking to each other.
"You think I should have stood on the steps of Middleton House a half-hour ago and waved my handkerchief in farewell while she set off on her lone walk here?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
She looked up in some annoyance. "Do you make a joke of everything, sir?" she asked. "I think you know very well what I mean."
"You must have a sorry opinion of your sister," he said.
"I am extremely fond of Georgie," she said indignantly. "But she is very young and impulsive and has had a tendency to get herself into innocent scrapes. I am afraid that she may be no match for a man like you."
"A man like me," he said. "And what is a man like mc. pray, Miss Burton?"
"It is quite clear that you are unprincipled where ladies are concerned," she said firmly. "But you might at least confine your gallantries to someone who knows how to handle your advances."
"Ah," he said. "The voice of experience, I perceive. Are you applying for the position, ma'am?"
Her eyes flew to his face in shock. Her face was flushed, her eyes wide. "You are insufferable, sir," she said. "I should slap your face if we were alone."
"I regret the extra bodies as much as you, ma'am," he said. "When you direct those eyes my way, my mind becomes hopelessly addled with speculations on how sweet your lips would taste. If we were alone, we could both fulfill our desires."
Vera's eyes dropped involuntarily to his mouth, and she drew an audibly uneven breath. She rose abruptly to her feet, folding her embroidery with hasty hands. "If you will excuse me," she said to the room at large, "I shall go and fetch my cloak and bonnet. That walk in the park will be very welcome, Georgie."
Lord Beauchamp rose to his feet and bowed graciously as she swept past him. "I shall say good day, ma'am," he said. "I must be leaving."
Ralph decided to spend that evening at home, though he did not find the prospect a comfortable one. He had offended his mother and felt unhappy about that. Yet he could not apologize to her. He had not spoken to her in haste and had not said anything deliberately bad-mannered or disrespectful. He felt that he had been right to tell her that he would encourage Gloria to continue with her wedding plans. And he certainly felt justified in telling her to leave Georgiana to him. He could not feel sorry for a word he had said, but he was sorry for the necessity of speaking thus. He was sorry at the moment to be the Earl of Chartleigh. He felt all the loneliness that a position of authority must bring with it on occasion.
He felt even worse about having to face Georgiana. He still could not believe that that terrible quarrel had really occurred the afternoon before. He had known he was not a good husband. And he had known that his behavior to her was indecisive, that he would have to do something to try to win her trust and even her affection. But he had not known how terribly hurt she was.
He remembered her as she had appeared to him on the first two occasions he had met her, especially on the second, when he had made his offer to her. She had been so quiet, so sweet. He had learned at Chartleigh that she was not timid, that she could be talkative and lively and exceedingly brave in the cause of others. But he had seen nothing at all in her to dislike or to censure.
What a change he had wrought in her in such a short time! She had lost her temper the previous afternoon. She had even used language that he had never thought to hear on the lips of a woman. And she had admitted to flirting with Roger. Because she was bored, she had said. Because he himself was not man enough for her. And she had threatened to take a lover.
Could that have been Georgiana? What had he done to her? It did not occur to him to blame her at all. She had changed in a very short time. There could be only one cause for that change: himself. She must be right. He was a failure.
And there seemed no way to put things right. She hated and despised him now. The time when he might have gone to her and tried to make a new beginning on their marriage was past. If the rest of their married life was not to be an utter disaster, he would have to approach the problem with considerable decisiveness, skill, and knowledge. And he had none of those things where Georgiana and women in general were concerned. He was aghast at his own youth and innocence. How did one win the trust and love of a woman who hated and feared one?
He had been unable to face Georgiana for the rest of the day and most of this. He had walked around the streets of London the afternoon before and ended up calling on Roger. It was unusual to find his cousin at home, but it was close to dinnertime when he arrived. Roger had persuaded him to stay and to accompany him to the opera in the evening.
The motive for the chosen entertainment had been immediately obvious to Ralph. His cousin had seen that lie was no more cheerful than he had been on an earlier occasion at White's. He took him to see a little dancer whom he had been considering bringing under his own protection but whom he was magnanimously willing to renounce in favor of his cousin.
Ralph had looked at her and felt a shiver of revulsion and something else. A feeling of inevitability, perhaps. She was small. She had a good figure and was light on her feet. She was not unlike Georgiana if one did not look at her face and her hair. But who could escape doing so? Her hair was a vivid red, in a mass of short curls around her head. The color was clearly not natural. And her face was heavily painted. Even at a distance from the stage, Ralph could see the sheen of bright red Lip rouge and the rosy glow of false color on her cheeks. She was pretty, he supposed. But there was a coarseness about her that repelled him.
"Of course she wears paint," Roger said on Ralph's comment. "She is on the stage, my lad, and is in the business of attracting attention. The hair is dyed for the same purpose. Doubtless all would be suitably toned down in a boudoir. She is a pretty little armful, Ralph, my boy. Fresh from the country. I hear that Grimble has been trying to get her, but he is notoriously closefisted."
"I cannot imagine how women can live such an existence," Ralph said, gazing at the little dancer with some sadness. "She is surely very young, Roger."
"It is probably a better existence than the workhouse," Roger said. "If she is frugal, she can probably save enough in these years to ensure a comfortable life afterward."
"Poor girl," Ralph said.
Roger laughed. "She would not thank you for your pity," he said. "Doubtless she believes she has the world at her feet at the moment. Do you want her?"
"What?" Ralph said. He looked at his cousin's raised eyebrows and flushed. It was stupid to pretend not to understand. "I don't think I could, Rog. I am a married man."
"And not too happily so," Roger pointed out. "Why not do a bit of the living you have missed in your years at university, my lad? Then perhaps you will be able to settle to a happier marriage."
Ralph looked back to the dancer. "I would not know how to go about attracting her notice," he said.
"That is the least of your problems," Roger assured him with a wave of one hand. "I shall be your ambassador, my boy. I don't think there will be any difficulty once she hears whom I represent and how much you are prepared to pay. I take it you will give me a free hand in deciding on terms? And my house in Kensington is available to you. Evelyn moved out almost a month ago and I have been enjoying my freedom too much to replace her yet. Well, what do you say, Ralph? Shall I go down after the performance and have a word with her?"
"No!" Ralph said sharply. "I really do not want to do this, you know. I must consider."
Lord Beauchamp could not induce his young cousin to make any more definite commitment for that night.
And the following evening Ralph was still confused, unhappy, undecided. He sat through an uncomfortable dinner, responding as best he could to Gloria's attempts at conversation. She talked about the shopping expedition she had made that day with Aunt Elspeth. Apparently a large number of her bride clothes had been either purchased or ordered. He was glad he had talked with her before leaving the house the previous afternoon. She seemed to be acting on the assumption that her wedding would take place before Christmas.
He sat in the drawing room after dinner, attempting to talk to both his mother and Georgiana. It was hopeless. Neither ignored him. But there was no communication. They were all worlds apart. He excused himself early and retired to his room. He was miserable with the knowledge that his wife was unhappy and that he was about to sin against her. He was about to set up an opera dancer as his mistress.
He was going to be unfaithful to Georgiana.