Georgie crossed the room and sank down next to her mother. She gave her a fond hug. “I’m sure of it. Mr. Wylde is everything he ever wanted for me. He is loyal and brave and decent.”

“And penniless,” Mother added forlornly. “And untitled.”

“That too. But it’s not as if we really need any more money, is it?”

Mother reached for one of the little iced cakes on the tea tray and sniffed. “I suppose not. And if this is what makes you happy, Georgiana, truly happy, then of course I don’t object. It’s all I ever wanted for you, you know. For you to be happy.”

Georgie gave her another loving squeeze. “I know.”

The next moment, Mother seemed to perk up as renewed energy flowed through her. Georgie recognized it with an inward smile as her I-have-a-project look.

“Who would have thought it?” She chuckled gleefully. “Both of my daughters to be married within the space of two months! I must get to work! Heavens above, what shall I wear?”

Chapter 45.

Predictably, the “confidential” news of their engagement had spread from Admiral Cockburn to his wife, Clara, and thence like wildfire through the ton. To Georgie’s amusement, the announcement only served to increase her popularity. At every event she attended, she was besieged by gentlemen wanting to dance or perform menial tasks for her.

She finally sorted these men into two distinct camps. The first paid her attention because they were determined to find out what it was about her that had captured the attention of a man like Benedict Wylde, or to discern whether she was being hoodwinked by a fortune hunter.

The second group were those who still fancied themselves as potential suitors. They were praying for her to come to her senses and call off the engagement. Their attentions held a certain comical edge of desperation. Georgie could barely contain her laughter as Elton and Coster cracked heads when they both bent to retrieve her ostrich feather fan. Freddy Cadogan brought her continuous glasses of champagne. Five different men offered to show her various aspects of the gardens, fountains, shrubbery, and hanging lanterns. Even Sir Stanley Kenilworth renewed his efforts.

Benedict found it vastly amusing. “It’s sadly predictable.” He’d chuckled as he whirled Georgie around Lady Ashton’s ballroom. “The fortune hunters sense that time is running out. They’re trying to besiege you. A last-ditch effort, as we say in the army.” He let out a sigh of mock-regret. “If only they knew you were already married. Just think of the broken hearts.”

“Ha! There wouldn’t be a broken heart among them. All they see when they look at me is the matched set of horses they’ll buy at Tattersall’s, or the brand-new racing curricle they’ll order before the ink is even dry on the marriage register. None of them see me.”