“I had wondered why he was here.” She wanted to turn the hand Turley covered and clasp his fingers.
“Remembering what Frits went through last Season, I warned him to always keep a friend with him.”
Both men barked laughs.
“That was helpful.” Turley squeezed her hand.
“I thought so. You might want to follow my advice as well.”
“I plan to stay close to you for the rest of the week.”
Georgie almost responded, but decided she wanted to consider what he had said. She knew he still wanted to marry her. Did that mean he might fall in love with her as well?
Chapter Fourteen
Thanks to Bottomley’s apparent inability to arrive anywhere on time, Marc missed his opportunity to speak with Miss Featherton before they were called into dinner at Lady Turner’s house. Afterward, the Earl of Bolingbroke, one of the other guests, held Marc back to discuss a canal venture, thus making him one of the last gentlemen to enter the drawing room. By the time he was able to rejoin the ladies, Turley was planted firmly at Miss Featherton’s side. Marc didn’t want to waste any more time on a lady who did not wish to wed him—he’d already done that more than once to his detriment—and he tried to make out from her expression if she was pleased Turley was there or not. Unfortunately—at least for his purpose at the moment—she was much too well-bred to allow by either her mannerisms or her expression how she felt about the situation. Before he could even greet her, the Littleton party left. Marc would clearly have to think of another way to speak with Miss Featherton.
“My lord.” Lady Turner came up to him. “I do hope you are having a pleasant time.” She glanced around as if afraid that someone would hear her. “I was not aware of Lord Bottomley’s tendency to dawdle. If you would like us to send a carriage for you, you have only to say the word.”
Marc hadn’t thought much of the lady when she had been Miss Martindale, but she had certainly improved since last Season. And, although he had his traveling coach with him, it was really not the type of vehicle one wished to take on a short visit to a neighboring house. “Thank you, my lady. I appreciate your very kind offer. Now that I know of his propensity, I shall see what I can do to counter it.”
“Nevertheless, the offer stands.” She placed her hand on his arm. “Many of the ladies here are of the younger set, but I think you might enjoy meeting Lady Aurelia. She is known for her lack of missishness.”
He was primarily interested in Miss Featherton, and still intended to pursue her, but meeting another lady of rank was not a bad idea. “Yes, of course. I would be delighted.”
Lady Turner led him to a lady with reddish-brown hair who seemed to be in a rather intent discussion with the new Marquis of Montagu.
As they came closer he heard her say, “Yes, yes, John. That is all well and good, but England must lead the way in this matter.”
Marc didn’t get to hear what Montagu might have answered because Lady Aurelia, having seen them approaching, greeted Lady Turner. “You have assembled an interesting party. I commend you.”
“Thank you.” Her ladyship blushed slightly. “Lady Aurelia, I would like to present Lord Lytton.”
When she glanced up at him, he noticed how petite she actually was. Her head only came to his shoulder. As she held out her hand, her smile reached her enchanting blue-green eyes. “Good evening, my lord. It is nice to make your acquaintance.” She indicated the marquis. “I suppose you have already met my scapegrace brother?”
Montagu rolled his eyes, and Marc covered his laugh with a cough. “I have indeed.”
The younger man gave his sister a beseeching look as he stepped back. “May we please not discuss politics this week?”
She heaved a frustrated sigh. “Very well. You may have a respite. But this subject is not over.”
“Of that I am well aware.” Her brother looked around like a fox intent on making his escape. “I shall see you later.”
“You must excuse me as well,” Lady Turner said. “I should go help Mrs. Fitzwalter with the tea.” Her ladyship did not wait for an answer before heading to her friend.
“Well, my lord,” Lady Aurelia said. “Would you like to engage in polite small talk, or would you rather have a more substantive conversation?”
For the first time in a long while, he chuckled. “We have just met. Do we even know one another well enough to speak of matters beyond the weather?”
She gave him a wry smile. “I must warn you that I can only tolerate small talk for a short period of time. My failing vastly distresses my family.”
Marc felt his smile broadening. “Such as your brother?”
“You noticed?” Her dark pink lips twitched. “You would never know that we are twins. One need only to look at the two of us to realize how much truth there is to the idea that females mature faster than males.”
“Twins?” He would never have guessed. They really did not look that much alike. And as to their personalities, she did, in fact, seem much more mature than her brother. Marc wondered how old she was. At least one and twenty for her brother to have taken his seat in the Lords. “You’re correct. I would have never known if you had not told me.”
This time her smile broadened. “I am known as the sensible one.”
He could see why. “I find sensible ladies to be highly underrated creatures.”
She glanced in the direction of the tea tray. “Shall we fetch our cups of tea, my lord?”
“If you wish.” He held out his arm, and she placed her fingers on it.
All the ladies he had been interested in last Season and this Season had been rational. He would enjoy coming to know Lady Aurelia. Still, he wondered why she was not already wed. Was there some secret or circumstance that made her ineligible? His aunt would never stand for the possibility of a scandal. And how would he find out? Or should he even bother given he was interested in Miss Featherton? Then again, Marc had thought Turley had given up on her, but apparently the rumors had been false. He gave himself an inner shrug. He’d simply have to allow the circumstances to play out as they would. At least now he had an alternative to his aunt’s ultimatum that he find a suitable lady to marry before the year was out. He had managed to if not ignore, then not keep his dilemma at the front of his mind, but lately he had not been able to forget about it. Marc didn’t care if he had one of those love matches that were all the rage, but he would like to know he could get on well with the lady he’d wed.
“How do you like your tea?” Lady Aurelia’s question broke into his musings.
“Two lumps of sugar and more than a splash of milk.” She procured his cup of tea before getting her own. “Shall we retreat to the chairs by the fireplace before anyone else notices them?”
Her question conjured a vision of him sitting next to a fireplace with a lady, but he could not quite picture who the female was. He was about to answer in the aff irmative, when he noticed she had taken his arm and was leading him in the direction she wished to go. She was definitely a determined female. But would he like being managed? He supposed it depended on who it was and how it was done. They found the chairs were close enough together for a comfortable coze. He could become used to this.