“Georgie, I simply cannot bear to see you so pulled down.” Bella plumped herself down on the chaise-longue beside her friend. Georgiana was listlessly plying her needle, setting the occasional stitch in a piece of fine embroidery. Bella glanced anxiously into her face. “You aren’t going into a decline, are you?”
Despite her tiredness, Georgiana grinned. “Of course not.” After a moment she added, “I assure you I’ve no intention of pining away. It’s just that I find the…the tension of the evening entertainments draining.”
Born and bred to such things, Bella could not readily imagine being drained by a ball. However, she was not without sympathy. She frowned as she mulled over the matter. “We could cut down a trifle, perhaps. The Minchintons’ ball is on Friday—we need not go to that, I suppose.”
But curtailing Bella’s activities because of her own weakness was further than Georgiana was prepared to go. She was supposed to be Bella’s companion, not an inhibiting influence. “Don’t be a goose,” she replied, her tone affectionate but firm. “I’m only feeling a bit low, that’s all. I dare say if I make a special effort I’ll be fine by this evening.” She paused. “On second thoughts, perhaps some fresh air would help. If you’ll wait, I’ll get my bonnet and come with you.”
“Of course.” Bella smiled encouragingly.
But as soon as Georgiana disappeared through the door, the frown return to Bella’s face. Far from reassuring her, Georgiana’s rapid about-face convinced her that her friend was endeavouring, however unsuccessfully, to conceal the true effect of her hopeless love. Who knew to what depths of misery Georgie descended when no one was by? Bella fretted over the problem, rendered more acute by the restraint she felt in confiding in anyone. Arthur was her long-time mentor, but in this case Bella felt she would need Georgiana’s permission before revealing her friend’s state to him.
Georgiana’s footsteps sounded in the hall. With a sigh, Bella rose and picked up her discarded bonnet, absent-mindedly swinging it by its long aqua ribbons. She sorely needed advice. Then, in one instant of blinding clarity, she saw the answer. Dominic. He knew all of Georgiana’s background. And, after all, Georgiana herself had seen fit, at the very outset, to confide in him.
When Georgiana stuck her head around the door, Bella grinned widely. “Yes, I’m coming,” she called and, feeling much more light-hearted, all but tripped from the room.
“PLEASE, DOMINIC. I really must talk to you. Privately.” Bella put every ounce of sisterly need into her gaze as it rested on her brother’s handsome face. But his habitually bored mask showed no evidence of lifting. In fact, she noted, he regarded her even more dubiously than he had before her plea.
“I warn you, Bella, I need no lectures from you.”
Far from striking fear into her heart and stifling her request as intended, his precise tones made her relax and give a dismissive smile.
“Not about that! I want to talk to you about Georgiana.”
“Oh!” Dominic followed her gaze to the object of their discussion, twirling gaily about the dance-floor in Harry Edgcombe’s arms. Then the piercingly blue eyes swung back to Bella. “What about Miss Hartley?”
Bella looked at the knots of people surrounding them. “Not here.” She glanced impishly up at him. “Don’t you know of an alcove where we might be alone?”
The blue eyes glinted down at her. “Don’t be impudent.” He caught her hand and drew it through his arm. “As it happens,” he said, leading her through the crowd, “I do. But I can’t spare too many minutes. I’m engaged to dance with Miss Hartley myself, two dances hence.”
“It won’t take long,” Bella promised.
The small ante-room Dominic led her to was thankfully empty. She sank on to a well padded sofa. Dominic elected to stand, leaning one blue-silk-clad arm along the mantelpiece. “Perceive me all ears, dear sister.”
Bella eyed him suspiciously, but could detect no hint of the sarcasm he frequently employed when irritated. “As I said, it’s about Georgiana.” Now she came to it, she found herself short of the necessary words.
“Has she discovered Arthur’s little deception and become difficult?”
“No, no. Nothing like that.” Bella frowned, then, sensing Dominic’s growing impatience, she abandoned her efforts to find the best phrasing and blurted out, “She’s fallen in love.”
For a moment, she wondered whether he had heard. His face showed no reaction to her words; he seemed frozen, petrified. Then his black brows rose. “I see.” He turned aside, resettling the fine lace on his cuff. “It is, after all, not an uncommon happening. Who is the lucky man?”
“That’s just it. She won’t say.”
Dominic’s eyes rested thoughtfully on his sister’s dark head. “And you imagine, as she won’t divulge his name, he must therefore be in some way unsuitable.”
“No, that’s not it either.” Bella glanced up to find her brother’s eyes full on her, irritation fermenting in their blue depths. She hastened to explain. “He’s not unsuitable in the way you mean. But it seems she’s fallen irrevocably in love with a man who’s about to offer for another. She says he doesn’t know she’s in love with him. I’ve tried to get her to confide in me, but she won’t. She says I know him so it wouldn’t be fair.”
Dominic digested this information in silence. Then, abruptly, he pushed away from the mantelpiece and paced across the room. Returning, he looked again at his sister. “How, then, am I supposed to help? I do take it I’m supposed to help?”
Bella smiled, a trifle warily. “Yes, of course. I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t think you could help. I want you to find out who Georgie’s gentleman is.”
Dominic’s brows flew. “That all?”
At his tone, Bella’s face fell. “But you must be able to guess. Who is it whom I know is about to marry? Or at least offer for someone. You men always know such titbits before it’s common knowledge.”
Pacing once more, Dominic considered his acquaintance. He knew all the gentlemen his sister was on speaking terms with, and would very li
kely know if any were contemplating matrimony. “Unfortunately, to my knowledge, no one fits the bill.”