By then, she was laughing aloud, in part at the thought of what Her Grace would say or do in such a situation. Georgiana had no doubt Mary would know exactly who was responsible for the toad being there in the first place.
Still, she doubted there would be any anger about it. She might even find the chaos entertaining. If Georgiana had done such a thing while she was still a little girl, the duchess might even have indulgently played along a little and told her to set up a small place where the creature could easily watch the goings-on of the soiree.
Ambrose, not being as familiar with the duchess, was not fully able to appreciate the humor, but he still found the idea an amusing one.
“Thank you for suggesting such a marvelous idea. You are such a good friend. You always seem to know just what I need to make me laugh.”
“Well, I am glad I can be of assistance. Shall we come up with another plot?”
“Actually, I think I would like some punch now.”
“Then allow me to get us some,” he quickly replied.
Georgiana remembered where they had been standing in the far corner of the living room. While she waited for his return, she amused herself further by continuing to think up another prank. Even though she had no intention of carrying any out, it was still great fun to think about the possibilities.
However, such thoughts fled entirely when she saw Baron Bartlett and his mother had entered the room. Fortunately, this time Georgiana did not lose all presence of mind as she had before.
She felt her cheeks pale, and forced her eyes to look away, turning her body to make it clear she had no intention of looking at him.
Not a moment later, Ambrose returned with their punch, having clearly seen what had happened. “Here,” he said, handing her one of the glasses.
Then, he took her free hand in his, gently squeezing it. “Don’t let him affect you. You did perfectly right in looking away. Just continue to avoid him, and it will get easier.”
Georgiana nodded compliantly as she took a sip of the punch. Something in what Ambrose had said did not sound quite right, or perhaps it had been his tone. But that was no doubt just because her heart was aching.
Despite him having left her to face the gossip, the pain, the questions, her heart still wanted him. A part of her heart might always want him…
Chapter 10
As Walter prepared for the soiree, he strongly wished he had never agreed to attend the season. There were so many reasons not to, he couldn’t even begin to name them all.
Then again, the increasing pounding in his head from the number of drinks he had with Henry wasn’t helping his mood, or his desire to go to the soiree.
Halfway through getting ready, he was forced to pause after a quick movement merely to allow the pounding to ease. Then, he decided he had had enough.
“James,” he called out to his valet. “Tell my mother I am feeling indisposed and intend to stay home.”
As James left without a word, Walter went to the pitcher in his room and poured some of the water on the towel beside it. Placing it on his forehead, he sought to relieve some of the pain with the cool wetness.
Far too quickly, James was back with a message from Sylvia. “Lord Bartlett, your mother asks me to say she insists you prepare yourself for the soiree, regardless of how you feel. She also told me to point out that you have less than ten minutes to be ready and in the carriage.”
“Well, you can go back and tell her, if her head ached as mine does, she would certainly not wish to attend the event either.”
James hesitated, clearly uncertain as to whether he was really meant to say such a thing to the dowager baroness. When Walter simply sat there and looked at him, however, he decided the order had been given seriously, and so left to deliver the message.
Not two minutes later, Sylvia herself entered his room. Despite how angry she seemed she was at least considerate enough to refrain from being loud.
“Walter, lift your chin up and move your arm, so I can finish getting you ready. James is bringing you something from the kitchen that I want you to drink, and then we are leaving for Elwood Manor,” she told him firmly.
He swatted her hand away. “Mother, I really don’t—”
“Were you forced to drink as much as you did?” she asked, cutting him off.
He looked up at her, quite unable to figure out what point she was clearly trying to make. “No….”
“So, since you chose to drink, knowing full well we had an event to attend, you can also be an adult and deal with the consequences.”
“But there is no real need to attend today,” he retorted. “Miss Rutherford will be at the next event, whatever and wherever that is, I am certain.”
“Or she might meet someone who catches her eye tonight,” Sylvia instantly countered. “Come now, I refuse to let you stay home tonight. You are attending the soiree, even if only for a short while.”
Walter sighed, but allowed his mother to help him finish getting ready. When he was nearly prepared, James returned with a glass full of a strange-looking reddish liquid.
“Ah, perfect timing,” Sylvia said, then she looked at him. “Well, drink it all. The whole glass. It should help clear your head a little, so you don’t look ill all evening.”
Obediently, he grabbed the glass and drank it without giving himself the chance to think what might be in it. The first swallow nearly choked him; it tasted foul, and the smell was not much better. However, he forced himself to drink the whole glass.
“Good. Now we can leave,” she told him as she took his arm. “The last few touches may be done in the carriage, since we are already a little late.”
Walter, though still not wishing it, found himself obediently following along. By the time they were in the carriage and heading for the dowager duchess’ manor, he was surprised to find his head was aching less than before.
A glance at his mother revealed she had noticed his slight improvement but was in no sort of mood to speak to him yet. It made for a wordless ride until they arrived.
“Don’t forget to share two dances with Miss Rutherford and to engage her in conversation, so you can ask to call on her. Once you have accomplished that, let me know, then we can leave,” Sylvia told her son as he helped her out of the carriage and into the manor.
Walter did not reply, instead only watching as his mother, with a sudden smile on her face, left his side to talk to the other guests. Just then, he heard familiar laughter coming from a different part of the room.
His eyes instantly turned in that direction and was struck by the sight of Georgiana laughing with her husband. It was his favorite sound, and the way it lit up her whole face…
The pain in his heart was suddenly much greater than the mild pain in his head. Seeing them together, picturing the two of them on a moonlight stroll, gazing into each other’s eyes made him feel sick.