Imagining Mary as a clam did make Cecelia smile, and she leaned back in her seat with a sigh of relief, all too happy to let her sisters take over the fight. At least if the rest of the table was concentrating on them, they weren’t concentrating on her.
Maybe his grace might see fit to start focusing more on one of them, and she might actually be able to raise her prospects once more. Her father had insisted he help her, but he had suggested nothing towards his not helping her sisters also.
At least if she did manage to convince Mary to go with her to the next event, she might act as a breaker between the two of them. Maybe then she might actually be able to have a decent conversation with a worthy suitor. That was before the duke went and scared him away when he called. Perhaps she might somehow be able to warn them of his meddling beforehand.
Stomping down her anger, she tried instead to put her focus on finding a way around her self-imposed chaperone.
Chapter 12
“I still cannot believe you dragged me into this,” Lady Mary said the very next afternoon, as she sat beside her sister in the carriage on their way to Lady Ashmore’s garden party.
George smiled silently to himself, watching the two sisters as they bickered over Mary’s being there. He had to admit that Lady Cecelia was right. It would be good for her to get to know a few people before her own debut. And besides that, her presence helped to take a little of Lady Cecelia’s attention from him.
After they had argued over the dinner table the night before, he was glad of that. And he had already decided to try and keep himself to himself for the day, not to rouse the lady’s anger all over again. It would not do to go causing a scene in front of Lady Ashmore’s guests.
“You shall be fine,” Lady Cecelia insisted, laying a hand on her sister’s knee. “All shall be well.”
“I shall hold you entirely accountable if it is not,” Lady Mary assured her, and George laughed all over again.
“What is so funny?” Lady Cecelia said, her gaze snapping up to meet his. “Is my sister’s anxiety so amusing to you?”
George shook his head. “I was merely remembering that you shared similar such anxieties several years ago,” he said, meeting Lady Cecelia's gaze. There was a storm there, one that both unnerved and excited him in ways he would rather not admit. “I never imagined you so eager to be out in society as you are now.”
“It is my duty to be so,” she pointed out. “I have to find a husband before the Season is over. Or had you forgotten that?”
George gritted his teeth. How could he possibly have forgotten when it had been all he was able to think about since learning of her father's last wish?
“Can we at least be civil today?” Lady Mary cut in as if she sensed the tension that was already growing between the two of them.
George continued to stare at Lady Cecelia, and she back at him, almost as if neither of them had heard her.
He couldn't help staring at her, for she seemed even more radiant than all the previous times he had laid eyes upon her. It was going to be an ordeal to try and keep any of the riff raff away from her, especially if she was so utterly determined to go against his judgements.
The green fire in her eyes roused something inside George and reminded him of the emerald gown she had been wearing the evening before, a gown that had left him utterly breathless when first he had laid eyes upon her.
It had only been her obvious temper towards him that had allowed him a modicum of self-control in not complimenting her openly as he might have done when they were children.
The pale blue gown she wore now, only a shade darker than Lady Mary's, was not nearly so breathtaking on her, and yet, she still wore it effortlessly. The matching jewels in her pinned-up hair made her jet-black locks seem all the darker.
“Can the two of you stop staring at each other like two wildcats about to claw each other to shreds?” Mary snapped at them when neither responded. “We are almost there.”
George glanced out the carriage window to see that Lady Mary was right.
The carriage had turned into the driveway leading up to Lady Ashmore's residence, and already there was a multitude of different carriages pulling up to the stone steps.
He sighed deeply as he realized there were going to be even more people in attendance than he had anticipated.
“I shall promise to be civil if the duke shall promise not to get in my way today,” Lady Cecelia said, and when George looked back at her, he found her still glowering at him.
A part of him immediately wanted to tell her he would promise no such thing, but instead, he forced himself to say, “I shall remain out of the way so long as I do not feel you are in danger of doing something utterly reckless or downright stupid.”
Her peach lips opened as if to make further protest, but before she could, the carriage drew to a halt, and Lady Mary swiftly rose, dragging her sister with her to exit.
As she went, Lady Cecelia glanced back over her shoulder, a warning look on her face, and George had to fight himself not to change his mind on not getting in her way just to spite her as he might have done when they were children.
***
Within minutes of being greeted by their hostess, George found himself in the gardens, surrounded by people, the usual crowd of all those who believed that if they put themselves in his way often enough, he might see fit to give them his favour.
