Page 9 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
“Come now, Miss Harley. There’s no need to be so particular. It looks as if it’s going to rain again.” Benedict wasn’t sure why he didn’t just let her stride off into the fog with her charges and be done with her, but his dormant gentlemanly instincts seemed to be reasserting themselves. No doubt that blush of hers was responsible for all this tedious gallantry.
“Can’t we please?” Sarah tugged at a fold of Miss Harley’s skirts. “He must have a handsome carriage, being alord and all.”
“I do, very handsome, and a splendid matched pair as well. If you’re truly concerned about the children’s well-being, Miss Harley, you won’t risk their safety on the dark, wicked streets of London.”
But Miss Harley was having none of it. “I assure you, Lord Haslemere, these two girls aren’t strangers to the risks of the London streets. I daresay they’ve spent more time on them in their short livesthanyouhave.”
True enough. He’d only ever spent one night on the London streets, and that was only because his coachman had lost track of him, and Benedict had been too sotted to find his carriage on his own. He was, alas, every bit the rake Miss Harley thought he was, but a man should do what he excelled at, and Benedict excelled at amusing others and entertaining himself. Otherwise, he was quite useless. “Very well, but at least let the girls shake hands, Miss Harley.”
Miss Harley looked as if she was going to refuse, but Benedict beckoned to the girls, and they wrenched their hands free of Miss Harley’s. He slipped his hand into his pocket and retrieved the coins as they darted toward him. He knelt on the cobbles, held out his gloved hand, and took each of theirs in turn. With a solemn nod he shook them, pressing the guineas back into their palms as he did. “Miss Sarah, you’re a capital jockey, and Miss Susannah, a fierce competitor.”
The girls’ eyes widened when they felt the coins, but he gave them a subtle shake of his head, then released them with a wink.
“Come, Sarah and Susannah. Your friends will be wondering where you are.”
Miss Harley took the girls’ hands again. Benedict didn’t try to stop them leaving this time, but stood on the damp street and watched as the darkness closed around Miss Harley and her two charges, swallowing them into its depths.
Chapter Three
BerkeleySquare, London
Three months later
Georgiana scraped her spoon across the bottom of her dish, unwilling to sacrifice even a drop of herpineapple ice.
“I do believe you’ve gotten the last of it, Georgiana. You’ll wear through the bottom of the glass if you keep digging like that. Shall I ask Tristan to go to Gunter’s and fetch another ice for you?” Sophia was seated on the opposite side of the carriage, her feet resting onCecilia’s lap.
Georgiana peeked out the window where Sophia and Cecilia’s husbands lounged against the iron railing, watching the elegant carriages passing on Berkeley Street and enjoying the spring sunshine. The gentlemen had chosen to ride to Gunter’s so as not to crowd the ladies in the carriage, and they looked so elegant in their smart coats and trim breeches, they might have stepped off the pages of theGentleman’s Magazine.
“No, I’d better not.” Georgiana leaned back against the plush velvet seat with a sigh. “I’ll only want another after that, and then where will it end?”
Cecilia laughed. “Such a sweet tooth, Georgiana!”
“Notsosweet. I’ve just always been mad for ices, particularly pineapple.” Georgiana shamelessly licked her spoon, searching for more of the tart, cool flavor that still lingeredon her tongue.
“Ices, marzipans, sugared almonds, and peppermints.” Emma began counting sweets off on her fingers. “Candied fruit, cakes, ice cream—”
Cecilia tapped her spoon against Emma’s dish. “Hush, youteasing thing.”
Fondness swelled inside Georgiana as she took in the bright faces surrounding her. Cecilia’s recent marriage to the Marquess of Darlington hadn’t changed her, any more than Sophia’s marriage to the Earl of Gray had changed her.
They were both very grand now, to be sure, but to Georgiana, her friends would always be simply Cecilia Gilchrist, Sophia Monmouth and Emma Downing, her closest companions at the Clifford School, and as dear to her as sisters. One of them might be a marchioness and the other a countess, but titles and fortunes couldn’t change their shared history, or erase so many yearsof friendship.
Distance, though, and too much time spent apart…
Georgiana glared down at the sticky remains of her treat congealing at the bottom of her glass and grit her teeth against the wave of melancholy washing over her. Goodness, how broody she’d become! Sulking was a dreadful habit, but despite her best efforts she’d been maudlin enough these past few months.
Selfish too, considering how happy her friends were.
“I’ve no idea where the sweets go after they’ve passed your lips, Georgiana.” Sophia waved a lazy hand at her, then let it flop back onto her stomach as if the effort had exhausted her. “Do you know I can’t squeeze into any of my gowns anymore? My belly has swollen to such scandalous proportions these last few weeks, I’ve taken to wearing Tristan’s banyan everywhere.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Your belly is swollen with a child, not pineapple ices.”
Sophia snorted. “It’s swollen with both, I assure you. This is the third time I’ve been to Gunter’s this week. It’s a great pity I’m such a short, stubby creature. If only I had your height, Georgiana, I could eat whatever I liked.”
“If you had my height, you’d also have my sharp elbows and shockingly large hands and feet.” Georgiana had once hoped curves would replace her angles, but she was twenty-five years old now, and long since reconciled to her fate. “You’re much better off as the sweet, petite little thing you are, rather than abony spinster.”
Georgiana winced as one by one, the smiles on her friends’ faces faded.
