Courting The Forbidden Debutante. Laura Martin
‘If I tell you, that would ruin the intrigue,’ he whispered, ‘and then you’d have no reason to want to see me again.’
Georgina felt a shiver of anticipation run down her spine. Mr Robertson was hardly a suitable suitor, her parents might not even allow him to come to call on her, but he was refreshingly different. And different was alluring when you’d been courted by most of the eligible bachelors in London and still found them hard to distinguish from one another.
The music stopped and Mr Robertson held on to her for just a moment longer than was proper, then leaving her feeling bereft, pulled away and bowed formally.
‘I think someone is trying to get your attention,’ he said, indicating into the crowd of guests.
‘Lady Yaxley, my chaperon for the evening.’
‘No doubt to scold you on your choice of company.’
‘It has been a pleasure, Mr Robertson, but now I must take my leave.’
‘Until next time, Lady Georgina. I hope it will not be too long an interval.’
‘Georgina, you must be more careful in the company you keep,’ Lady Yaxley scolded her as they took a slow walk around the ballroom. ‘And running off and abandoning those nice gentlemen like that. Your poor mother would have a seizure if she knew.’
Georgina had to stifle a smile as Caroline peered over her mother’s head and rolled her eyes. When Lady Yaxley got started on the subject of propriety and good manners it was best to let her scold until she ran out of steam.
‘The rumours about that man, Mr Robertson, you would not believe. It is entirely inappropriate for you to ever speak to him again. Perhaps if you keep your distance now the damage will be minimised.’
‘Mama...’ Caroline groaned.
‘You’re no better, young lady. Don’t think I didn’t noticed you crossing nice Mr Fielding off your dance card. That is unacceptable.’
‘His breath is worse than a pile of manure,’ Caroline informed Georgina over her mother’s head.
‘This is no laughing matter. Three seasons you girls have been out and neither one of you married off.’
‘Not from lack of proposals on Georgina’s part,’ Caroline teased.
‘Yes, your father has been rather indulgent,’ Lady Yaxley said disapprovingly.
Georgina had known the Yaxleys for her entire life. Born just days apart, she and Caroline had been destined to be friends. Their families lived on bordering estates and there were no other titled families for forty miles in each direction. It had been luck that meant they were perfectly suited to one another and from the age of five had been inseparable. Lady Yaxley was more like family than merely her friend’s mother, but that did mean Georgina was scolded by the older woman as if she were another errant daughter.
‘Mother, isn’t that Lord Westcott trying to get your attention?’ Caroline said, nodding to the other side of the ballroom.
Watching in amazement, Georgina smiled as her friend caught the Baron’s eye and raised a hand in greeting, directing her mother’s gaze just as the Baron returned the gesture, making it seem as though he was the one who initiated the contact.
‘I need a trip to the retiring room,’ Georgina said quickly, to save them from having to talk to Lord Westcott. ‘Caroline, will you help me straighten out my dress?’
Lady Yaxley gave them a suspicious glance, but nodded for the young women to take their leave.
‘Now tell me,’ Caroline said, linking her arm through Georgina’s. ‘Tell me everything about Mr Robertson.’
They made their way through the ballroom and out of the double doors at the end, keeping up the pretence of heading for the retiring room, knowing Lady Yaxley’s eyes would be on them until they were out of sight.
‘There’s nothing much to tell,’ Georgina said with a shrug, realising it was the truth. Although she’d spent at least twenty minutes in the man’s company she didn’t really know any more about him than anyone else in the ballroom. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I’m not being coy.’
‘You went outside with him,’ Caroline declared. ‘You never go outside with anyone.’
Paranoid about being caught in a compromising situation with a man she didn’t want to marry, Georgina had a rule about not being alone with a gentleman, ever.
‘We weren’t alone,’ she mumbled. ‘There were plenty of other couples taking the air.’
‘I’ve known you far too long, Georgina Fairfax. Don’t play coy.’
‘He was very forward,’ Georgina said, trying her best to sound disapproving rather than impressed. She didn’t want to be a stereotypical empty-headed young woman who was swept away by the first man to break with convention.
‘Did he try to kiss you?’
‘No.’ He hadn’t tried to kiss her, and Georgina realised she felt a little disappointed. He had looped an arm around her to pull her into the waltz and then at the end of the dance held on to her for just a few seconds longer than was strictly necessary, but Georgina wasn’t sure whether that had been deliberate or just a sign that he hadn’t spent much of the last few years honing his ball etiquette.
‘He hasn’t danced with anyone else. Just stood there with his friend, surveying the room in that brooding fashion.’
‘You sound smitten,’ Georgina said suspiciously.
Her friend sighed. ‘I’m fed up, Georgie, fed up of the balls and the dinner parties and the operas. Fed up of boring young men pretending to want to get to know me when in reality all they want is an introduction to you.’ She waved off Georgina’s protests. ‘If a dashing French spy or an Australian convict asked me to run away with him, then I probably would. Don’t you want adventure? A little excitement?’
Caroline had made her debut at the same time as Georgina, and people had started to whisper that three years was a long time to go without even a single marriage proposal. Georgina knew her friend was more than worthy of the bachelors of the ton and, with a substantial dowry and her family connections, there really should have been at least one proposal. Some times Georgina wondered if Caroline deliberately discouraged any proposals to allow her to remain free and unmarried a little longer, but mostly dismissed the idea. They’d been raised to be wives and mothers—even Caroline wasn’t so rebellious to actually want to be an old maid.
Still, Georgina could see the appeal of being left alone to live the life you wanted, with no husband to dictate what you could and couldn’t do. Far too often she found herself daydreaming about a life where she got to make her own decisions, from the small things about where to reside to the bigger things such as leaving everything behind to travel the world. It was a dream that was so far-fetched Georgina knew it could never happen, but in quieter moments she still found herself thinking of a life where she was her own mistress.
‘Indulge me,’ Caroline said as they exited the ballroom and started to make their way through the hall towards the retiring room. ‘Tell me every last detail about him.’
‘About whom?’ A deep voice sounded behind them, making both young women jump.
Even before she turned Georgina knew who it would be. His voice was unmistakable, clear and sharp, but without the refined tones of the hundred other men at the ball who’d attended one of the three most prestigious schools in England.
‘Mr Robertson,’ Georgina said, turning slowly, ‘may I introduce my dear friend Miss Yaxley.’
‘A pleasure to meet