Bexley-Smythe Quintet 01 - Flight of Fancy (5 page)

Goodness, even now, as Georgie and her mother and sisters took their luncheon, he was sitting across from her with a rather queer expression on his face as he stared at her.

Again
, it should be noted. The more often he was around, the more frequently this particular expression greeted her. Monty had taken up this sensationally perturbing habit of staring at her in a decidedly…well…
uncomfortable
manner.

Uncomfortable for her, that was. Monty didn’t seem all that uncomfortable.

On the contrary, he seemed entirely too comfortable in his surroundings, like he had just decided to make himself a permanent fixture at the dining room table or something else of the sort that would be equally ridiculous and perplexing.

Georgie stabbed a spear of asparagus with far more force than was necessary and then sulked as she chewed it. She could not make her plan work with him underfoot at every turn.

She needed a plan.
Now
.

Typically, she’d go to Moira or Patience for help with her plans, but they’d both been busy with their various problems…being in the betting book, or trying to get there, whichever the case may be for the lady in question. Besides, they’d want to know
why
Georgie wanted to avoid Monty, since she’d never been overly keen to do so in the past, and that would require all sorts of explanations she wasn’t prepared to provide.

No, Moira and Patience wouldn’t do. And Pippa wasn’t exactly in a position to help her out right now, either. Not that she would, since it would mean aiding Georgie in doing something scandalous. Pippa seemed determined to avoid any hint of scandal right now.

None of her friends could help her. Could one of her sisters, perhaps?

Frankie was rather good with sorting through problems, but she was even more of a stickler for propriety than Georgie was. That left her out of the equation.

Mattie would prefer to solve all of her problems by starting a new embroidery project—a new sampler or something similar. Not that Georgie doubted Mattie’s ability to solve her own problems in that manner, but she couldn’t imagine that causing her fingers to bleed when she inevitably poked herself with a needle would help her to avoid Monty, unless he had an overwhelming fear of blood. That ruled Mattie out, as well.

Which left Edie.

Surreptitiously, Georgie eyed her younger sister across the table, reaching for the plate of meats and cheeses as she did, so as not to rouse Monty’s suspicions. At the moment, Edie was blathering on about some poem or another her governess had her studying, which she found exceedingly tedious and boring. Both of Edie’s hands were flying wildly through the air, illustrating her points as she went on.

“
But
really
, Mother, it isn’t as though it will matter in the grand scheme of things if he was writing about a woman or a man, after all, or even a toad. It’s just
Shakespeare
.” Edie pounded the flat of her palm against the table. “Simply being able to recite it ought to be enough to prove to any gentleman worth a grain of salt that I’m well studied. I shouldn’t have to
explain
the meaning of the poem. He ought to be able to explain it to
me
.”

Well…that didn’t bode well for Edie’s ability to solve Georgie’s woes. The poor girl couldn’t even be bothered to try to understand the Bard.

Georgie slumped down in her chair and scowled. Her sisters would be no help.

Damn and blast, she wished she was a man. Men could do virtually anything they wanted.

But…well…
she
might not be a man, and Monty might not be willing to help her, but there were other men in her life who might be willing and able.

Like Pippa’s brother, Harry. He’d always been a bit of an adventurous soul, himself.

A smile stole over Georgie’s face as she plotted out how she would convince Lord Harrison Casemore to do her bidding. But then Monty caught her eye from across the table, and she fought to conceal her glee. No point allowing him to spoil her fun.

God, he had always loathed the opera.

Cedric tugged at his cravat as the soprano hit yet another ear-punishing note, wishing all the while he was anywhere other than where he was at the moment. But this was where Lady Stalbridge had wished to bring her daughters for the evening, at the invitation of Lord and Lady Sutherland, so this was where Cedric must also be, particularly since Georgie seemed more determined than ever to throw herself into Haworth’s path.

He hoped that last note represented the top of the soprano’s range. Anything higher might very well burst his eardrums. The only good thing about being forced to sit through the opera tonight was that it allowed him to at least attempt to forget the currents that had sparked through him when he’d pressed his finger to Georgie’s lip two nights ago. In the intervening time, he’d thought of little else, other than what those currents might mean.

Well, he
had
thought of one other thing in that time—the perplexing realization that, while he’d always thought of Georgie as a younger sister in the past, he currently had no desire to think of her as such.

At present, he didn’t know what the appropriate term for their relationship ought to be, but he had a sneaking suspicion that they’d moved into unfamiliar territory and might never be able to go back to how things were before.

Cedric didn’t know how he felt about all of that. He
did
know that the warbling coming from the stage was a blessed distraction from such thoughts, however.

Just as the soprano blistered his ears with a note that could shatter glass, Georgie leaned forward excitedly in her seat. Christ, could she possibly be enjoying herself? He studied her from behind and to the side, trying to sort out the expression on her face. Sure enough, it was one of glee.

He’d never thought Georgie was fond of torture—or at least not self-torture. She’d always been rather fond of torturing him and Bridge, and even Cedric’s younger brother Joshua on occasion, but never herself.

Yet there she sat, sheer and utter exuberance showing as plain as day on her face, much like the expression she’d worn at luncheon earlier.

It was enough to cause Cedric a headache. Best not to think about it, since he already had a headache from the wretched operatic voices greeting his ears with unabashed abandon.

He sat back in his seat and allowed his gaze to wander over the crowd, in the hopes that that activity might provide him enough distraction that he could ignore the near-feline-in-heat sort of screeching occurring down on the stage. Occasionally, he’d catch the attention of another gentleman in his box, and they’d nod at each other before going back to scanning the crush.

After a few minutes of his perusal, however, Cedric would have fallen out of the box completely were he not seated properly.

What on earth was Joshua doing at the opera, seated in a box across the way with Lord Harrison Casemore and a few of his usual compatriots? For that matter, what was Joshua doing in Town at all?

When Cedric had left Yorkshire for the London Season, Joshua had claimed boredom with the scene to be found here, and had begged off accompanying him to Town. Thinking that his younger brother simply wanted to sow a few more wild oats without his responsible, elder brother watching over him constantly, Cedric had readily agreed. But if that was the case, what could have brought Joshua all the way here, and why wouldn’t he have let Cedric know of his arrival?

He wouldn’t have to wait long to find out. Blessedly, the final strains which would lead to the intermission sounded from the orchestra pit. Cedric waited somewhat impatiently for all of the ladies in his box to rise. Lady Stalbridge, the last of the group to do so, finally turned and faced him. He needed to speak with her before he left them…he had to be certain someone would keep an eye on Georgie, lest the girl run off and somehow find Haworth. Granted, he’d only be gone a few minutes, but still. Why take a chance?

“
I do hope you’ll excuse me for a few moments, ma’am,” he said in a rush. “I just saw my brother with Lord Harrison and was hoping to have a word with him.”

She started to nod her consent, but Georgie interrupted before she could say anything. “Loring is with Lord Harrison? Lord Harrison Casemore?”

Her eyes lit up and she leaned towards him, grabbing onto his arm briefly before seemingly coming to her senses and releasing him. The brief contact sent the same jolts of excitement through his entire body as he’d experienced only two evenings ago. He stood there, stunned and unable to form a coherent thought.

How could Georgie have such an effect on him?

“
Might I come with you, Monty?” she nearly begged, a desperate look in her warm brown eyes.

That left him even more dazed than he already had been. Georgie and Joshua had never gotten on very well. Joshua thought her a wiseacre who didn’t know when to remain quiet, and Georgie thought him an imbecile with a knack for troublemaking. They each had their points, though they might not see all aspects of one another. Cedric couldn’t imagine what she might wish to speak with his brother about.

“
Oh, please, Monty!” she rushed on before he had sorted out her reasoning. “There’s a message I’m simply desperate to get to Pippa, and I’m sure Lord Harrison will deliver it to her for me.”

With that confession, Cedric relaxed almost immediately. She didn’t want to see Joshua—just Casemore. If he took her with him, he could keep an eye on her and be certain she didn’t go off in search of Haworth, and at the same time find out what Joshua was doing in Town. He couldn’t have thought up a more perfect situation if he’d tried.

He held out his arm for Georgie to take. “If it’s all right with your mother…”

Georgie didn’t wait for her mother’s reaction, however. She was tugging on his elbow, as eager as an overexcited puppy.

Cedric had to fight to keep pace with her, and all because his nerves were near the fraying point from the simple touch of her gloved fingers in the crook of his arm.

On second thought, perhaps
he
was the puppy, not Georgie—a lovesick puppy on a lead, following wherever she wished him to go.

Cedric might be in over his head this time.

“
What message am I to deliver to my sister?” Harry drawled in a somewhat bedraggled, harrassed tone.

And really, Georgie couldn’t blame him for it. There’d been numerous occasions in the past where she and her friends had used and abused his willingness to run between them, delivering silly missives from one girl to another.

This was a far different situation, however. She glanced back over her shoulder to gauge the distance to Monty. Still too close. She couldn’t risk him overhearing their conversation, and she had little doubt that he’d try, given his recent behavior.

Georgie shook her head slightly and indicated with her eyes a spot several feet away, near an alcove. They’d still be in full view of everyone in the foyer, so it wouldn’t be scandalous. She moved over and waited for him to accommodate her wishes.

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, he finally did. “Something so wicked it can’t be overheard then? Let’s be out with it, my lady.”

“
I can’t remember the last time you called me ‘my lady,’” Georgie muttered.

“
Nor can I, but you are a young lady in your first Season. Or have you forgotten that you’ve made your debut? You girls all seem ready and willing to throw yourselves to the wolves.”

There wouldn’t be any wolves in the gas balloon, whenever she finally made it up in the air with Lord Haworth. Georgie thought it might be best to keep that thought to herself at the moment, though.

She waved her hand through the air between them in a dismissive gesture. “I don’t really need you to tell Pippa anything for me. That was just a ruse to get Monty to bring me over here so I could speak with you.”

A devilish gleam appeared in Harry’s eye. “A ruse, you say? What, pray tell, did you wish to discuss with me then?”

She
knew
Harry had been her best option. He loved a good lark. Georgie fought to keep her elation from pouring forth too freely, lest she rouse his suspicions. Harry’s interest in her plans would be a boon; an excess of curiosity, however, could spell her ruin.

“
There is a certain gentleman I wish to meet.”