Though it was an unrefined thing to do, Georgiana rested her chin on her hand, with her elbow on the table. Her eyes settled on the door through which her husband had gone. If others whispered about her as well, she decided she didn’t care. She was a duchess, she had Owen as a husband, and she would keep what she had. No one could touch it.
Supper at the ball was composed of small tables for intimate conversations. There were two buffet tables set up on either side, with servants carrying large trays about to clear the food or bring something new to the tables. This made for a busy atmosphere and a steady buzz of voices.
It was nice, Georgiana decided. She could have a moment to herself while being surrounded by half the city. Slowly, she relaxed in her seat and gave a slight nod when a servant came by to clear away her plate.
The doors to her left opened into the ballroom. She could see a new chalk outline for dancers, and fewer candles were lit. The night wasn’t over yet. There were still plenty of hours for everyone to enjoy dancing and talking and playing.
“I do hope this isn’t your way of showing how bored you are at this dull ball.” Marjory plopped down in Owen’s chair and pouted at her. “Georgiana, what are you doing?”
“I’m not doing anything. What do you think I’m doing?” Georgiana asked after a heartbeat.
Sighing, her cousin gave an artful shrug. “I don’t really know. But it looks like you’re mooning over your husband, who left at least fifteen minutes ago.”
“It was not that long.” Georgiana wrinkled her nose. “I wasn’t doing that, was I?”
With a look over her shoulder, Marjory merely responded, “That is certainly what it looked like. But what do I know? You were just complaining about your husband and how––”
“Shh,” Georgiana hissed. She shook her head. “Marjory, I haven’t complained for some time. Nor is that an appropriate topic of conversation outside the confines of my home.”
Marjory considered her words for a moment before offering an apologetic nod. She looked around and then said, “I fear you’re quite right. My apologies, Georgiana. You must know I didn’t mean anything by it. I fear I’m not in my right mind tonight. Mother and Father are… well, they’re quite frustrating.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Georgiana rose as her cousin did, but paused when a familiar face caught her eye. “We really should talk more about that as well, Marjory. I’d like to help if I can, but… Is that my father here?”
“Hm? Oh, fancy that.” Marjory really did sound surprised. “I didn’t know he knew where we lived. He never visits.”
“He never attends balls either.”
Marjory turned to her. “Do you think he is here to see you?”
“He would have surely found me by now if he was seeking me,” Georgiana reassured her, then frowned. “If anything, I would have assumed he might be avoiding me. But look at him, talking with the Baron. Perhaps he came here for business.”
“Do you think you will speak with him?”
“I…” Georgiana hesitated.
She couldn’t very well spend the rest of the night without talking to her father now. If anyone noticed that the two of them were not interacting, it would surely raise suspicions. She knew her husband might not care, but her father might.
Which is why he should come see me. What is he doing here? I’m not sure I even care. I only wish to know, to understand him… How little time he makes for me. I wonder if he even cares. He hasn’t responded to most of my letters, and I know how thorough he can be about them.
“Wish me luck.” Georgiana walked off before Marjory could convince her of anything else.
She took carefully measured breaths on her way over. Feeling her heart rate pick up, she waited for her father to glance her way. But he seemed determined not to. Even the Baron Hoggart nodded her way with a polite smile.
As the two men stood next to the double doors leading into the ballroom, Georgiana had to politely pass a few people on the way, before finally reaching the two men.
“Father,” she called a step in advance, in case he still refused to notice her. Nor could she fathom him daring to cut her. “What a wonderful surprise to see you here this evening.”
Her father turned to look at her blankly. It took longer than she thought necessary for the furrow in his brow to soften, as though he was remembering who she was.
“Georgiana—or Your Grace, I believe I should call you. I didn’t know you would be here. Lord Hoggart, do you know my daughter?”
“I do, indeed. You introduced us once, I believe, at the Queen’s garden party several years ago. Would I be amiss in that memory?”
The Baron glanced at her father and then at her with a polite smile after kissing her knuckles.
“That would be correct,” she reassured him. “I’ve also had the pleasure of attending the opera twice with your wife two Seasons ago.” When there was a pause, she forged on, refusing to be cowed by her father’s silence. “I do hope I’m not interrupting. It’s so rare that I see my father out and about, you see.”
The Baron had the good grace to chuckle. “Oh, don’t I know it! It took three requests to convince him to attend this ball. The Duke of York is in attendance, and we need his weight behind a bill we are taking to the floor next week.”