Engagement of Convenience. Georgie Lee
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gaining a reputation as a hoyden. Until she could learn to control her tongue in his presence, it was probably better to avoid him. She moved to make her excuses when Annette’s condescending sweep of Julia’s riding habit changed her mind. ‘Yes, but allow me to change. I’ll only be a moment.’
‘Your dress is passable. Come and let’s be off,’ Uncle George impatiently called.
Julia reluctantly stepped off the stairs. Emily would have a fit if she knew Julia wore her old riding habit into town. Oh, well, what was one more reprimand? Besides, it was worth the rebuke to annoy Annette.
‘Come, Captain Covington.’ Annette motioned for his arm and like a true gentleman he offered it, leading her outside to the waiting carriage. Julia watched the way her stepcousin moved, the rich material and fine cut of her dress emphasising her willowy figure. A slight twinge of jealousy took hold and Julia wondered if things would be different if she made an effort to dress so well every day or demonstrate proper, genteel manners.
‘My lady.’ Uncle George offered her his arm with an exaggerated flourish.
‘Why, thank you, sir,’ she answered with equally false formality.
‘What do you think of the captain?’ he asked in a low voice as they strolled out to the waiting carriage.
‘He strikes me as quite the man about town. He’s already caught Annette’s attention.’
‘Any man with a pocketbook catches her fancy,’ George huffed. ‘You shouldn’t let her have him.’
‘I have no interest in a Navy man, especially one with a thin London polish.’
‘He’s no Simon, if that’s what you’re worried about. He’s rich, too. Thanks, I might say, in part to many of my lucrative schemes.’
Julia suppressed a laugh, knowing how proud Uncle George was of the numerous profitable ventures he’d embarked on during his time in the Navy. ‘Why did the captain resign?’
‘George, stop gossiping and get in,’ Captain Covington interrupted from beside the open carriage door. ‘No need to give away all my secrets on the first day.’
‘Not possible, Jim. You’ve got too many.’ Uncle George chuckled.
‘May I?’ Captain Covington held out his hand, a playful smile lighting up his face. Julia reached for his upturned palm, hesitating a moment before pushing against the strength of it to step up into the carriage.
‘Thank you.’ She didn’t dare meet his eyes, but slid across the squabs and settled in next to the far window, her hand still tingling from his touch. Uncle George sat beside her in an attempt to place some distance between her, Annette and Simon and she was grateful. The captain took a seat across from them, next to Annette, much to the chit’s visible delight.
Simon paused to adjust his cravat, then carefully climbed into the carriage, moving like an old lady to avoid wrinkling his morning coat. The door closed behind him, but Simon wasn’t fully seated when Uncle George rapped on the roof. The vehicle sprung into motion, throwing Simon into the seat next to his sister.
‘I say,’ Simon complained to George.
‘Sorry about that.’ George shrugged, unruffled by Simon’s outburst.
‘Men can be so silly, don’t you agree, Captain Covington?’ Annette laughed, reprimanding her brother with a look he pointedly ignored.
‘Yes, they can be.’ The captain allowed the conversation to drop, watching the countryside pass by outside the window, a strange melancholy clouding his face. Julia noted the way the afternoon sunlight spread over his features, highlighting a very small scar on his cheek and giving him a bit of mystery and depth she’d never seen in any London gentleman. Then his eyes darted to hers and she turned away, her heart fluttering, the heat in the carriage rising sharply.
What’s wrong with me? she wondered, touching the warm skin of her neck. It wasn’t like her to act so hen-witted in the company of a man, especially a Navy rake like the captain. Struggling to regain control, she concentrated on the river flowing in the gully below the road. No matter how much she focused on the clear water pouring over the rocks, the captain lingered on the edge of her vision. When she dared to look at him again, she found him still smiling at her.
‘Captain Covington, were you at Lady Wellsingham’s ball last month?’ Annette asked.
‘No, I’m afraid business kept me away,’ he answered with a slight frown before covering it with a gracious smile.
Perhaps he’s not so taken by London charms, Julia mused, sitting back to observe the conversation with a new interest.
‘What a pity. You would have enjoyed it. All anyone could talk about was Lord Langston’s comment on Napoleon. He said the Emperor’s coat was too tight to suit a real gentleman, and if the Emperor had a better tailor, he might not be so fond of war.’
‘I thought politics a taboo subject at balls?’ Julia asked, more to annoy her stepcousin than out of any real interest.
‘We were discussing Lord Langston’s comment, not politics,’ Annette arrogantly clarified. ‘Surely you’ve heard of the earl, even here?’
Julia bit back a sharp retort, struggling through gritted teeth to remain cordial.
‘Yes. Charles keeps me abreast of the latest London news, though I pay it no mind. I hardly feel the comments of a man who thinks only of clothes and dancing is worth the breath to spread it. Were he a man of actual accomplishments, such as Lord Nelson, I might take more interest in what he has to say.’
‘Here, here, Julia.’ George slapped his knee and Annette pursed her thin lips.
‘Sounds like a rather American idea to me, Miss Howard,’ Captain Covington asked.
‘Have you been to America, Captain?’ Julia asked.
‘Yes, it’s an interesting country.’
‘I don’t agree with the Americans. The French followed their example and all their patriotism and liberty turned out dreadful,’ Annette interjected, but both Julia and Captain Covington ignored the remark.
‘I’m a great admirer of Mr Jefferson. Are you familiar with his agricultural inventions?’ Julia asked.
‘Yes, I read one of his books while I was in London. I read quite a number of books while I was at home.’ He paused, watching his left hand open and close before he looked up at her again. ‘I don’t recall the specific of Mr Jefferson’s designs, but I remember them being quite innovative.’
‘He devised a plough specifically for hills. It’s proved most beneficial to Knollwood,’ she volunteered, encouraged by his response. ‘Like Mr Jefferson, I’ve discovered the best way to develop new techniques is to ask the workers. I regularly speak with mine to keep abreast of their progress and any potential problems.’
‘How plebian to be so familiar with your servants,’ Annette sneered.
Julia went silent, the conspicuous difference between her and her London cousin making her self-conscious.
‘I agree, Miss Howard, servants are often aware of more than their employers realise,’ the captain offered with a smile.
‘Indeed, they know the land and conditions better than anyone else.’
Careful not to gloat over the obvious check to Annette’s mocking remark, Julia continued her discussion of agriculture, encouraged by the captain’s extensive knowledge. The bulk of it came from books, but he asked many questions about the practical application, eager to learn. While they spoke, Julia watched the way Annette hung on his every word, fluttering her eyelashes at him while praising his wit and intelligence. Each compliment brought a smile to his face and as much as Julia’s opinion of him rose with their current discussion, his apparent infatuation with Annette lowered it. Perhaps the captain thought her cousin a better country amusement than Julia.