Mother appeared temporarily struck dumb—a miracle in itself. She opened and closed her mouth a few times then managed to croak, “Wylde? Morcott’s brother?ThatWylde?” She closed her eyes as if praying for strength, then sent Georgie the patentedwhat-did-I-do-to-deserve-thisglare. “Georgiana Caversteed. Well, I never.”
“Since our first marriage was a secret, I’m going to marry him again,” Georgie said. “I’d like to announce our engagement and have banns called as soon as possible.”
Mother’s teacup clattered in her saucer. “Good heavens above. Do you love him?”
“I do.”
“And does he love you?”
“He does. And before you ask, yes, he’s already signed the contract. I know for certain that he doesn’t want my money.”
Mother sank back on the chaise longue like a deflated balloon. “Well, then. Good gracious.” She took a fortifying swig of tea, and her eyes grew suspiciously moist. “Would your father have approved of him, do you think?”
Georgie crossed the room and sank down next to her mother. She gave her a fond hug. “I’m sure of it. Mr. Wylde is everything he ever wanted for me. He is loyal and brave and decent.”
“And penniless,” Mother added forlornly. “And untitled.”
“That too. But it’s not as if we really need any more money, is it?”
Mother reached for one of the little iced cakes on the tea tray and sniffed. “I suppose not. And if this is what makes you happy, Georgiana, truly happy, then of course I don’t object. It’s all I ever wanted for you, you know. For you to be happy.”
Georgie gave her another loving squeeze. “I know.”
The next moment, Mother seemed to perk up as renewed energy flowed through her. Georgie recognized it with an inward smile as herI-have-a-projectlook.
“Who would have thought it?” She chuckled gleefully. “Both of my daughters to be married within the space of two months! I must get to work! Heavens above, what shall Iwear?”
Chapter 45.
Predictably, the “confidential” news of their engagement had spread from Admiral Cockburn to his wife, Clara, and thence like wildfire through theton. To Georgie’s amusement, the announcement only served to increase her popularity. At every event she attended, she was besieged by gentlemen wanting to dance or perform menial tasks for her.
She finally sorted these men into two distinct camps. The first paid her attention because they were determined to find out what it was about her that had captured the attention of a man like Benedict Wylde, or to discern whether she was being hoodwinked by a fortune hunter.
The second group were those who still fancied themselves as potential suitors. They were praying for her to come to her senses and call off the engagement. Their attentions held a certain comical edge of desperation. Georgie could barely contain her laughter as Elton and Coster cracked heads when they both bent to retrieve her ostrich feather fan. Freddy Cadogan brought her continuous glasses of champagne. Five different men offered to show her various aspects of the gardens, fountains, shrubbery, and hanging lanterns. Even Sir Stanley Kenilworth renewed his efforts.
Benedict found it vastly amusing. “It’s sadly predictable.” He’d chuckled as he whirled Georgie around Lady Ashton’s ballroom. “The fortune hunters sense that time is running out. They’re trying to besiege you. A last-ditch effort, as we say in the army.” He let out a sigh of mock-regret. “If only they knew you were already married. Just think of the broken hearts.”
“Ha! There wouldn’t be a broken heart among them. All they see when they look at me is the matched set of horses they’ll buy at Tattersall’s, or the brand-new racing curricle they’ll order before the ink is even dry on the marriage register. None of them seeme.”
He sent her one of those looks that made her stomach flip. “Isee you,” he said softly. “I see a woman who is brave and headstrong and secretly rebellious. I see a woman who is witty and clever, and who doesn’t go fainting all over the place or falling into hysterics at the drop of a hat.”
Georgie felt heat climb into her cheeks at his sincere flattery. How far they’d come from the two strangers who had married in Newgate.
“You know, there are already bets in the Tricorn’s betting book about the arrival of my son and heir in nine months’ time,” Benedict whispered. He laughed as her cheeks flamed even hotter.
“That is not the case!” she whispered back. Her monthly courses had arrived on schedule last week; Benedict’s lapse in control had not resulted in a baby. Georgie had been surprised to find herself rather disappointed by that. “They’ll lose their money.”
He sent her his pirate’s smile. “Ah, but that’s assumingI can keep my hands off you between now and the wedding. I’m not sure I can, Mrs. Wylde. And besides, would it really be so bad? I’d love to give you children. If that’s what you want.”
Georgie’s heart stuttered, and she gave him a radiant, breathless smile. “I’d like that very much indeed, Mr. Wylde.”
“God, don’t look at me like that in public,” he groaned. “I want to ravish you on the spot. Please tell me Lady Ashton has a pagoda or a library we can sneak off to.”
“Behave. I’ll come to the Tricorn later, and you can show me all manner of depraved acts.”
He sent her a hard glare. “Fine. In that case, distract me.”
She laughed. Teasing him was so much fun. “All right. Did I tell you that I received a letter from Captain Moore? TheLady Alicearrived safely at Boston harbor. Cousin Josiah has apparently resigned himself to his fate during the voyage and indicated his decision to find himself a rich American heiress.”
