“I should like to go in at least for a while. Marjory has been expecting me—well, us.”
He nodded. “Then we wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”
Climbing up the steps of the large house, Georgiana hoped they were still early. She liked doing that for Marjory, who easily grew bored and was likely to squabble with her parents if forced into the receiving line. Only two couples were in front of them before it was their turn.
“Georgiana!” Marjory pulled her into a hug. “Thank heavens you came!”
Georgiana laughed as she pulled away. “Marjory, of course I came. It isn’t every day that my cousin hosts a ball, after all.”
Making a face, Marjory let her red curls bounce about her head. “Of course, it isn’t. My parents are desperate for me to make a match. I told them it was useless, but they’re convinced I can find a husband this very night. Silly, don’t you think?” she said loudly and turned to give her parents a pointed look.
Georgiana hurried to her aunt and uncle’s side to smooth over the blow. “Good evening! What a lovely ball you have planned here. And might I introduce my husband?”
That managed to distract them before an argument could ensue.
As her uncle inquired about Owen’s country estate, Marjory tugged on Georgiana’s hand. “I didn’t believe it when you said he would come,” she murmured. “How handsome he is! I cannot believe the gossip rags never talked about that. You certainly seem to have been lucky. Is it wrong of me to be jealous of you?”
Hesitating, Georgiana wasn’t certain what to say. She supposed she was rather fortunate. So much in her life could have gone awry. But here she was, in a beautiful gown, with a handsome husband at her side. They might have been shouting at each other the other day, but it only served to show they were passionate and intelligent people.
That was what she told herself. She tried to focus on aspects like that instead of other things, like the way Owen’s hair curled around his ear. She’d touched it earlier but with her gloves on. The impulse to touch his hair with her bare hands struck her—she had a feeling his hair was terribly soft.
“––climb them?”
She jerked up her head. “Climb him?”
“The walls,” Marjory said with an eyeroll. “You talked about him having walls of some sort. It looks like you have overcome them.”
Georgiana pushed away the image that flashed in her mind. Ignoring the heat in her cheeks, she asked, “Why would you think that? I’m not certain anything has changed.”
“Then has he always looked like he wants to worship you?”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Or perhaps devour you. Don’t look now.” Marjory tightened her grip on her. “He keeps looking at you. Goodness, now that is a fine gentleman. I don’t know what you were complaining about.”
Scoffing, Georgiana shook her head. “You’re right, you don’t know. There has been a lot for us to discuss. And he does not stare…”
She had made the mistake of looking over her shoulder at Owen. Having been so confident he would be ignoring her like she knew he always did, she was surprised when their gazes locked. His hands were clasped behind his back as he looked to be listening to her aunt. But their eyes met, and she could have sworn his lips quirked up.
When he nodded in her direction, she nodded back. Her heart fluttered, making her wonder what had just happened.
“Oh, now comes Lady Comtel. If she’s wearing that dreadful pomade again,” Marjory muttered at her side, “I’m going to throw up my lunch all over that orange dress. She looks like marmalade. What was she thinking?”
Pulling herself together, Georgiana cleared her throat. She had to stop obsessing over Owen. She also needed to remove herself from the receiving line now that other guests were showing up.
“She wants to get a rise out of you,” she told her cousin. “Behave yourself and come find me later.”
“Yes, yes, go on, then.”
Georgiana left the receiving line on her husband’s arm. They crossed the hall to enter the drawing room laid out as a wide entrance to the ballroom beyond. Her heart fluttered as they moved forward, feeling naïve and young even though she’d played here before as a child and had attended plenty of balls in the past.
“You’ll be all right.”
She craned her neck up to meet his eyes. “I didn’t say anything.”
Merely raising an eyebrow, he then dropped his gaze to their arms. Her hand was squeezing his arm tightly. “Ah. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He put her hand back on his arm when she started to pull away. “Arriving at such a large event does tend to make one feel as though they are walking right into the lion’s den.”
