“So I can dance with a succession of gentlemen who are only interested in me for my fortune?”
“That’s nonsense. You’re a very pretty girl.”
She tugged her hands free. “You have to say that. You’re my brother. But I’m stout, and I can’t help noticing that gentlemen don’t like stout ladies.”
“I do.”
“You don’t count. Again, you’re my—”
“Brother. Right. I’m just pointing out that men like all sorts of ladies, including your sort.”
Their mother patted Rosy’s arm. “That nice Lord Winston Chalmers seemed to find you quite fetching at the musicale. Why else would he have called on you the next day?”
“Because he and I both love Beethoven. All we talked about was music and poetry. Oh, and art.” She blushed. “He was very interested in my sketchbook.”
“I’ll wager he was,” Geoffrey muttered.
Rosy shrank down in her seat. “What do you mean?”
He had to bite his tongue to keep from pointing out that art, music, and poetry were generally well-loved by ladies, so the scoundrel had made sure he knew all about them, as any good fortune hunter would.
At his continued silence, she paled. “Now the truth comes out. You think no man of rank would want me for his wife unless it was for my dowry.” With desperation in her voice, she stared down at her gown. “Certainly I’m too dull and plump to hold the interest of a man like Lord Winston.”
“Forgive me, angel, I didn’t mean any such thing,” Geoffrey protested. “And if I thought you boring or ‘plump,’ why would I be willing to spend on Elegant Occasions what will probably amount to a fortune, just so you would feel more at ease for your damned Season?”
“Language, Geoffrey,” his mother murmured, as she did at least five times a day of late.
Rosy merely directed her gaze out the window.
Geoffrey gritted his teeth. If only he could direct his gaze there, too. No, there would be no point. They’d long ago crossed the bridge. He’d have to take a trip out to see it after they were settled into Grenwood House.
Forcing his attention back to the matter at hand, he said, “As for Lord Winston, you are far too good for the likes of him. I asked around about him. Don’t let his honorific sway you—he’s merely the fourth son of a marquess, so he has only an allowance, nothing more, and not a great one at that.” When she blanched and Mother looked surprised, he added, “Neither of you knew that, did you?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Rosy sniffed. “You warned him off, so I won’t be seeing him again anyway.” She nervously tugged at her tight gown, refusing to look at him.
That worried him. “I can’t keep him out of other people’s balls and parties. I merely wanted to caution you about him and others of his ilk.”
Rosy turned to Mother. “You understand, don’t you, Mama? Papa gave up everything to marry you. Not that Lord Winston would necessarily wish to marry me, and I wouldn’t expect it, but if he did—”
“I didn’t realize that Geoffrey had already investigated the man’s reputation,” Mother said, “but since he has, I agree with your brother. We should be careful around the fellow, around all the gentlemen, to be honest.”
Mother released a heavy breath. “As for your father . . . you can’t compare him to Lord Winston. Unlike you, I had no fortune. That was before my own papa became so rich. So there was nothing in it for your papa but me. Lord Winston, on the other hand . . . Why, you barely know the man. It can’t hurt for you to meet a few more gentlemen before you make any decisions.”
“That’s all I’m saying,” Geoffrey put in. “From everything I’ve heard, Lord Winston is best known for his skill at getting into women’s beds.”
“Geoffrey, good Lord!” their mother chided.
“Sorry,” he said, though he wasn’t. “Just being around the man is liable to tarnish your reputation, Rosy, and I’d hate to see that when you have a bright future ahead of you.”
Rosy shot him a sad look. “Admit it—you despise men like him because of Papa. You always say people in high society act as if they’re better than everyone else, the way Papa sometimes acted. But you’re just as bad, talking with Grandpapa about the ‘swells’ in London as if you weren’t born to be one, saying how they don’t have any idea what the world is like. It’s two sides of the same coin. You look down on them and they look down on you. Now that you’re a duke . . . you can look down on everyone, and they don’t dare look down on you.”
That stung, partly because some of it was true. He and his late grandfather had shared a fascination with civil engineering, which was why Geoffrey, and not his father, had ended up a partner in Stockdon and Son, even though his grandfather had left his father the company in his will. But who could have guessed that Father, a mere third son of a viscount, would have inherited the dukedom of Grenwood if not for his untimely death? That Geoffrey would himself end up inheriting the dukedom from his distant cousin?
Suddenly Geoffrey owned a ducal estate—Castle Grenwood in Yorkshire—and the hunting lodge in Richmond. There was also Grenwood House opposite Hyde Park that he’d been given to understand was for the Brookhouse bachelors. He hadn’t had the chance to look it over, too busy with meetings about the Teddington Lock to do so, although he intended to use Grenwood House as the family’s main residence while Mother and Rosy were enjoying the Season. The Richmond hunting lodge was too far from the city to be practical for Rosy’s début.
His traveling coach shuddered to a halt, and he looked out to see that they’d apparently reached their destination. He checked his pocket watch to find it was 10 a.m., not too early for a business call in the City, he’d been told. A groom ran out to take the horses, and one of his own footmen put down the step.
He asked the footman to wait. He had to finish this discussion with Rosy before going inside. “I tell you what, poppet. If you’ll agree to participate fully in your début this Season and put your best effort into it, then if you can’t find a husband you like or you don’t succeed at moving about in society, or even if you merely find yourself miserable at the end, I won’t push it anymore. One Season is all I ask. After that, you can do as you please. Just give it a go. For me. And Mother, of course.”