His back stiffened when he saw the way Walter’s eyes widened.
Whomever was standing behind him, he had every faith that he was not going to like it.
“Your Grace?”
When the man spoke, he was even more certain of his feelings towards the gentleman.
“Lord Greystone,” he said through gritted teeth as he turned to look at the man.
Lord Greystone bowed his head low, his eyes dipped still when he straightened up. “Might I have a quiet word, Your Grace?”
Everything in George demanded that he reject the request, for him to mock him for even attempting to approach him, and yet, he forced himself to say, “Of course.”
Gesturing to a quieter corner of the room, George followed Lord Greystone, bracing himself for whatever the gentleman might have to say to him.
“I fear I may have misstepped, Your Grace,” Lord Greystone said, and he glanced at George for only a second before dipping his gaze to the floor once more.
“How so?” George asked, raising a brow.
“As Lady Cecelia’s chaperone, I realize that I ought to have approached you first, Your Grace,” Lord Greystone said, his manner contrite. “Though I must confess I have been blinded by the lady in question, and I have not been myself since meeting her.”
George’s insides stirred, his veins pulsing with energy as he prepared himself for a reproach. Yet, he couldn’t quite find the words, and so he waited, wondering what else the man might have to say.
One glance over his shoulder told him that they had an audience. Not only Walter and Daniel, but others in the room also, many of them already whispering about what might be transpiring between them. And George knew, for Lady Cecelia’s sake, he had to keep a handle on his emotions.
“I wish you to know, Your Grace, my intentions towards Lady Cecelia are entirely honourable,” Lord Greystone continued, and George’s breath caught in his throat when the man finally met his gaze. “I would never do anything that might cause her harm.”
George opened his mouth to speak but realized he had no idea of what to say.
As if he sensed this, Lord Greystone continued, “I am well aware of the reputation that precedes me, Your Grace, but I wish to assure you that since the war, I am a changed man.”
It was those words that struck a chord with George. Having found himself changed, he was well aware of the possibility that Lord Greystone might also be.
“As I am sure we all hope now, I merely wish for a quiet life and the opportunity to make one young lady happy,” Lord Greystone said, still meeting George’s gaze, and suddenly, he started to wonder—
Had he misjudged the man entirely? Did he truly see enemies where there were none?
He thought back, remembering every small detail he had learned about every one of Lady Cecelia’s callers. Some of them had been truly abhorrent, but others, he had dismissed them simply because he did not like the way they looked at her, or even because he remembered how unintelligent they had been in school.
And not for the first time, he realized that Lady Cecelia might in fact be right. He was being far too judgemental.
But why?
His jaw still clenched, George said, “I shall take your words under advisement, My Lord, though I urge you to ensure they are the truth.”
As if he believed some mutual agreement had come between them, Walter stepped up and said, “I do hope we shall see you this weekend at my parents' ball, Lord Greystone.”
And though he was not entirely convinced, George felt that playing nice with Lord Greystone wasn't quite so difficult as it had been before.
Chapter 17
Cecelia felt at ease in the ballroom of the Marquess and Marchioness of Rosehill. Having been friends with Lord Walter Avery, the Viscount of Rosemont, since she was a child, and his sister, since childhood, she felt much more at home than usual.
Perhaps that was why she enjoyed their ball much more than any other she had attended so far.
Many of the guests were long-time friends and acquaintances, and the judgemental stares and whispers she so often received seemed much fewer.
When she was not on the dance floor, she spent much of her time beside it, talking to Elizabeth as if they were children once more, quietly making a mockery of all the goings on as they might have done spying from the balcony above when they were younger.
