Regency Debutantes (30 page)

The hand laid so casually upon the padded arm of Nathaniel’s chair curled to form a tight fist. ‘Her parentage is nothing worse than mine.’ He stared at Viscount Farleigh’s profile, partially silhouetted against the brightness of the window. ‘Believe me when I say that I’d never allow our father to influence my choice of bride.’

‘No,’ Henry drawled slowly. ‘But you must admit, Nathaniel, that the girl is an odd choice given your situation. Father has sworn that you’ll receive not one penny from him, and neither will he sponsor your naval career. If she were an heiress, I could perhaps understand it, but one could hardly describe her as that.’

Nathaniel savoured the brandy, trying desperately to control the anger banking in his chest. ‘There are reasons other than money or advancement for a marriage. Georgiana’s my
wife whether you like it or not. We’ll not beg for your blessing.’ He was seated within the great winged chair opposite Freddie and turned slightly towards the windows. For all his apparently relaxed posture there was a tight whiteness around his mouth and a dark gleam in his eyes. He had known it would not be easy, and the worst was yet to come.

‘Well, I say she’s jolly fine,’ exclaimed Freddie, his face lighting up at the memory of the delightful Miss Raithwaite. ‘Would have expressed an interest myself if someone hadn’t put me off the scent.’ He nodded and sipped at the brandy. ‘Don’t be such a stuff, Henry, give the girl a chance. You haven’t even spoken to her. Besides, Mirabelle likes her and will vouch for her.’

Nathaniel hoped for the life of him that neither Freddie nor Mirabelle would see fit to make any mention of Mr Praxton.

Henry turned a gimlet eye to his youngest brother. ‘Mirabelle likes everyone. She’s forever taking in waifs and strays and involving herself in charitable works. I cannot help but think that that is where Miss Raithwaite should have stayed—as a good cause, and nothing more. Indeed, Mirabelle spoke to me of the girl. Just because you saved her from drowning doesn’t mean you’re obliged to wed her, for goodness’ sake!’

Freddie refilled the glasses, deliberately ignoring Henry’s refusal. ‘Whatever you say, Henry, you can’t deny that Georgiana Raithwaite’s a damned attractive woman. Nathaniel hasn’t got ice in his veins, you know. What’s he supposed to do after being stuck away at sea for all those months? Got to get himself a wife at some time!’

‘I am not contesting that point,’ Henry said with affected pomposity. ‘Say what you will, she’s the daughter of an innkeeper and that alone makes her unsuitable to be married to
any member of this family. She’s nothing but a mercenary Miss. Hell’s teeth, Nathaniel, if you wanted her, why didn’t you just bed her? We could have paid her off easily enough then. You weren’t so reticent with Kitty Wakefield.’

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when Nathaniel was before him, his face white and bloodless. ‘Cease this talk, Henry. I won’t just stand by and let you insult my wife. Take back your words or I’ll forget that we’re brothers.’ The rage that kindled in Nathaniel was akin to nothing he had ever experienced before. It was as if a red haze had descended before his eyes. His throat constricted and he swallowed hard, his fists bunched dangerously by his sides. ‘Take them back.’ His voice was low pitched, heavy with intent.

Henry stood resolutely silent. Then uttered, ‘I will not. I speak nothing but the truth.’

‘Nathaniel!’ Freddie leapt to his feet, but it was too late.

‘Then I have nothing more to say to you, Henry. You’re no longer my brother.’

Freddie squeezed between his brothers, his hands pushing against Nathaniel’s chest. ‘This is absurd. What the hell are the two of you doing?’

‘Defending my wife’s honour,’ said Nathaniel in a steady tone. ‘I’ll have nothing more to do with Henry until he apologises.’ And the rage that consumed his body knew he would never back down from what he had begun.

Brother stared at brother, each silent in the knowledge of what had come between them.

‘So be it,’ said Henry and removed himself from the library.

A thoroughly chilled Mr Praxton was just about to find his way to the local village inn when he spotted Nathaniel Hawke cantering down the gravel driveway. Even across the distance
that divided them Praxton could see the tension that beset the other man’s body. So matters within the great house had not got off to a good start. A sneer played across his lips. Trouble within the Hawke family could only bode well for his own cause. Perhaps the earl was having difficulty accepting the facts about his new daughter. He wondered as to exactly which aspect of Georgiana’s scandalous behaviour had upset the aristocrat most. Was it her running away on the mail, disguising herself as a boy, or being press-ganged aboard his son’s ship? He had to admit that the choice was really rather superb. Especially in the light of the fact that Georgiana’s parentage alone was enough to render her unacceptable to any of them. Matters were possibly not as dismal as he had painted them. Information on the Hawke family could only prove useful to his cause. With that in mind, he retired from the fading daylight towards the village of Collingborne. Georgiana was slipping closer towards his grasp, even if the woman did not realise it herself. And the thought of what he would do to her when he caught her fired the chill from his body.

‘You did what?’ Georgiana sat up, the covers of the great four-poster bed falling to her waist. The hour was late and she had almost been asleep when she heard her husband enter the room. Now her head danced dizzily as she struggled to comprehend the enormity of what he was telling her.

Nathaniel threw his finely cut coat on to the chair beside the tallboy in the corner, and stripped off his neckcloth. Even galloping the gelding full speed across country had not blunted the edge of his fury. ‘No one will cast such a slur on your character and think to get away with it, even if he is my brother. Henry shall take back his vile words or I’ll disown him as my brother.’

She clasped her hands to her cheeks in horror. Surely this could not really be happening? A serious quarrel with Henry and all over her honour, her damned supposed honour. ‘Nathaniel, please, stop, think what you’re doing.’ She clambered out of the bed and stood facing him clad only in the voluminous swirl of her white cotton nightgown.

‘I know exactly what I’m doing,’ he said between firm set lips.

She could see by the stubborn tilt of his jaw that he wasn’t going to be easy to reason with, but she had to try. Heaven only knew just how much she would. ‘What did you expect when you brought me here?’ she demanded, elbows akimbo. ‘That they would welcome me with open arms? We both knew what this visit was to be about. I thought that we’d prepared ourselves to meet what we would find.’

He threw his shirt aside and sat down on the bed to strip off his boots, the muscles in his back rippling from his exertions. ‘My father’s insults are to be expected. That he has not deigned to grace us with his presence is exactly the welcome I expected. But what I’m not prepared to accept is Henry’s condemnation of you.’ His eyes glittered dark and dangerous as if he were recalling events from earlier in the day.

‘Put yourself in his shoes. He’s your older brother, Porchester’s heir. It’s only natural that he feels the weight of family responsibility heavy on his shoulders. He’s only doing what he thinks best for you. How would you feel if matters were reversed and Henry had taken an unsuitable woman to wife? You would speak out, wouldn’t you?’

‘That’s not the point, Georgiana,’ he argued. ‘The matter is not reversed and I won’t allow him to speak of you in that way.’ How could he explain to her the anger that stuck like a bone in his throat, when he did not understand it himself? Her words were sensible, the same advice as he would give to any
other, and yet he could not swallow them, for all he knew that he should.

When he did not answer, just began to remove his stockings, she flounced round the other side of the room to face him once more. ‘He’s your brother. Would you lose him over a silly argument?’

‘Georgiana, let it be. Henry knows how to resolve the matter.’

‘And what of you?’ she said with gritty determination. ‘You would throw away all that is between you, alienate yourself from your brother as well as your father, and at Christmas?’

He shrugged his shoulders with false bravado. ‘If that’s the price, then I’ll pay it. Regardless of what people think, I have some sense of honour.’

She clutched at his shoulders, her fingers biting hard, pulling the full weight of his attention to her. ‘Then hear me, Nathaniel Hawke, and hear me well. I won’t allow you to lose Henry over such a pettiness. It’s my honour he’s insulted and therefore I’ll have the say of any action taken to defend it.’ Grey lights flashed boldly in her eyes as she leaned closer to him, her face barely inches from his. ‘When I cut off my hair and dressed in my stepbrother’s clothes I decried my honour. When I ran away to Fareham in the company of strangers I decried my honour. When I served under false pretences aboard the
Pallas
I decried my honour. And, worst of all, when I forced you to face ruination or marriage, what did I do to the little honour I had left? I’m not so high in the instep that I cannot suffer whatever words your family may choose to throw at me. And if I can suffer it, so can you.’

‘Georgiana—’ he started to interrupt but she would have none of it.

‘No, Nathaniel, hear me out. You would deprive yourself
not only of Henry, but of Mirabelle and the children too. And what of Freddie? Where will he stand with his loyalties divided? You would tear this family apart.’ She saw the pain appear in his eyes. Her hands moved up to take his face between her palms. ‘And what would that knowledge do to you? I don’t want to lose the husband that I love.’

The last word echoed in the stillness between them. Their faces were so close that the warmth of their breath met and mingled. She saw the darkness clear from his eyes, watched them open wide and clear. ‘You love me?’ It was a mere whisper on a breath, but Georgiana knew what he asked.

‘I’ve always loved you, Nathaniel Hawke, from that first day upon the river bank when you saved my life.’

He stared at her as if he could not believe the words that had just fallen from her mouth. Stared at her as if he thought never to look upon her again. His arms moved to hold her to him so that she could feel the thud of his heart against her own. Lip to lip, breast to breast, hip to hip, they lay still and heavy, each breathing the scent of the other. And all the while those dark eyes held hers, never flinching nor fading in the intensity of their focus. Silence surrounded them save for the haunting rattle of the wind against the windowpanes. When at last he moved to take her it was as if it was the first time. Such tenderness, such passion, and yet with so much more. Even as he moved over her Georgiana knew the difference. For this was a union not just of bodies but also of souls. A merging of hearts for ever. The knowledge pushed the experience into the realm of the extraordinary. It seemed that they floated clear of the bed, of the great house itself, melting together in a liquid pool of ecstasy that surpassed ordinary mortal experience. Even when Georgiana curled sleeping around him, Nathaniel knew that everything had changed. A world of difference
sparked from one small innocuous word. Love. She had said it. Had spoken the truth. And in the darkness of their bedroom and the nocturnal hush of Collingborne House he lay brooding upon exactly what that meant. Truly, nothing would ever be the same again.

It was the day before Christmas Eve and both Nathaniel and Henry were still proving to be wilfully stubborn when it came to the matter of Georgiana. Henry, in his position of the older and wiser sibling, would not soften in his condemnation for all of Mirabelle’s tears, tantrums and pleadings. Neither would Nathaniel withdraw his stubborn ultimatum. After that night, when she had believed him to have understood all that she had tried so hard to express, Georgiana was left lonely and confused. The man she loved seemed strangely distant, removed to a place she could not reach. That he fully intended to lose Henry over the foolish notion of her honour only fired the pain that ravaged her breast. What matter that she loved him, had bared her heart and soul, only to have it cast firmly back in her face? He did not love her, that much was clear. Indeed, had he not since taken pains to avoid her, creeping late into bed when he knew her to be asleep, and rising early in the morning?

As soon as she entered the breakfast room Henry, Lord Farleigh, departed, turning his back to meet her in a direct cut.

Mrs Howard rose swiftly from the table. ‘We were beginning to worry that you’d overslept. Come and help yourself to breakfast. The choice is quite superb.’

Georgiana’s normally robust appetite suddenly shrivelled to the size of a small dried pea. ‘I’m not hungry, some coffee will suffice.’

‘Nonsense,’ replied Mrs Howard. The lady proceeded to
create an assortment of devilled kidneys, eggs and bread rolls upon a plate and placed it before Georgiana. ‘Take my word for it, my dear, you’ll feel much better for eating.’

Georgiana’s gaze met those of Mirabelle Farleigh. The small woman smiled, but it did not hide the ashen hue of her complexion or the dark shadows that smudged beneath her red-rimmed eyes. ‘It isn’t your fault, Georgiana. They’re both as bad as each other. Henry shouldn’t have said the things that he did. I’m sorry that it’s come to this.’

‘No, Mirabelle. It’s I who should apologise. Lord Farleigh seeks only what is best for his family. His younger brother has been married in haste to a woman who cannot be described, by any stretch of the imagination, as a good match. I fully understand his feelings on the matter.’ Georgiana prodded a piece of kidney with her fork.

Mirabelle pushed back a lock of hair that had escaped to sweep over her cheek. ‘You’re a good woman, Georgiana, and my husband’s more the fool for his blindness. For all that I love him, I’ve never seen him so stubborn and unyielding.’ She pressed the lace of her handkerchief to her mouth. ‘Please excuse me, Georgiana, Mrs Howard.’ A rustle of skirts and she was gone.

‘Stop playing with your breakfast, Georgiana. Starving yourself shall not assist any aspect of the matter.’ The silver eyes regarded her calmly, sensibly, loosening the tension within the room.