But he wouldn’t have Mother dictating to him. She may have run roughshod over his father and brother, but the military had taught Geoffrey much about command. Using your opponent’s worst fear against them had always worked well, and he couldn’t imagine anything disturbing his mother more than the prospect of a daughter-in-law that she deemed unacceptable.
“Like her?” His mother sputtered, bringing a grim smile to his lips. He felt little remorse for upsetting her. Served her right for springing this affair upon him.
“Quite,” Geoffrey confirmed.
The countess rose to her full height, which would be nearly a foot beneath his eyes were she standing next to him instead of across the room. She set her jaw. “Well, you can unlike her. She’s entirely unsuitable.” Mother’s pale skin splotched red as she balled her fists.
“I disagree,” Geoffrey stated, though he suspected the countess was right, at least where he was concerned. He accepted he would have to wed. He had a responsibility to produce an heir, of course. But even more, a year spent in Parliament had shown him that politics required finesse. A savvy and well-connected political hostess would go a long way in persuading other peers—and their wives—to move in the direction he wanted them to go. If he wanted to change living conditions for ex-soldiers, he’d need to find a partner who brought very specific feminine social skills to the altar.
But that didn’t stop him from tormenting Mother with the idea of Liliana Claremont for the time being.
“She’s beautiful, well-spoken and, as she proved this afternoon, quite clever.” Indeed. Geoffrey had very much wanted to stay and hear Liliana’s explanation as to how she’d accomplished his defeat.
His mother made a moue of distaste. “She’s unnatural,” she countered. “She hasn’t been out in society for the past three seasons. The stupid girl turned down the only offer of marriage she ever received, and I understand that she spends most of her time ensconced in the country doing God knows what,” the countess spat, as if a lady who didn’t regularly dance attendance at society soirees was an abomination. “Lady Turnberry claims Miss Claremont only comes to Town to attend chemical lectures and to pester the Royal Society to accept her as a member. Can you imagine? A woman who thinks herself a scientist?”
Geoffrey digested this new information. Her wager made much more sense to him, knowing this. What had he said to her? Oh yes, he’d asked her what a woman would know of a man’s pursuits. He inwardly winced. No wonder she’d challenged him.
He envisioned the determined look on Liliana’s face, and admiration moved to the forefront of the emotional jumble.
Mother, taking his silence as agreement, he supposed, moved toward him, shaking a finger as she closed the distance between them. “I went to considerable trouble arranging this party. How dare you squire around the only inappropriate miss here.” Her lip jutted out in a pout. “You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you? Just to provoke me.”
Outrage burst in his chest, past hurts exploding into remembrance. The countess had always been a virago, doing her best to manipulate and control everyone in her sphere. But he was no longer a little boy, trying to please a mother who thought only of herself. It was high time she realized he had no intention of being ruled by her ever again.
He glared down at his mother and said in his most authoritative voice, “I dare what I will. Should I choose to march right back out to that field, drop to my knees and beg Miss Claremont to be my bride, you will abide by my decision.”
The countess’ eyes widened as she took a step back. He’d succeeded in shocking her, at least. She looked at him as if she’d just realized she didn’t know him at all. Which, if he thought about it, was true. She’d paid him little attention growing up, preferring instead to focus her energies on his older brother, Henry, who took after her in both looks and personality. And now that Geoffrey was back from the continent, he was a different man altogether.
Geoffrey noticed Uncle Joss’ wary look and let out a short breath. Estranging himself from his family was not his intent. He forced calm into his voice. “If she were so unsuitable, why on earth did you invite her?”
Mother’s chin shot up. “I didn’t. I invited her cousin, Lady Penelope. But then her aunt, the marchioness, demanded to bring the chit along.”
Geoffrey nodded. He didn’t really care, and for his part, he was glad Miss Claremont had been included. He felt a wry grin slide over his face. The party certainly hadn’t been a bore.
A discreet scratching came from the door. His mother’s face lit and she pushed past him, probably glad for the distraction.
The door opened as Geoffrey moved into the room and went to stand near the bank of windows. He heard an urgent whisper. The countess nodded and slipped out, sucking the enmity right out of the room.
Geoffrey turned back to the oversized windows and stepped between two columns to look outside. He peered down at the tournament field through watery glass. Even three stories above her, he spotted Liliana immediately. She was still on the field, a small group of women surrounding her. Liliana glowed like a beacon in blue, the other girls seeming pale in comparison. She looked so lovely, so confident as she gestured animatedly. He wished he could hear—
“Geoffrey?” The raspy voice so startled him that he nearly jumped. Good God, for the briefest of seconds he’d thought his father spoke to him from beyond the grave. When Geoffrey turned, only Uncle Joss stood there.
It was uncanny, the resemblance sometimes, but now that Geoffrey focused upon the older man, it faded. Joss was slighter than his father had been, more soft-spoken…though he carried the trademark Wentworth eyes and black hair, which was now shot with gray. Geoffrey wondered if Father’s would be, too, were he alive.
Joss stood with his hands folded in front of him, looking at Geoffrey as he always did—as though uncertain of his reception. Geoffrey sighed. Uncle Joss’ reticence was Geoffrey’s own fault, and he was sorry for it. But since his father’s death Geoffrey had found it difficult to spend much time in the company of the man who so reminded him of Edmund Wentworth in appearance. It was too painful.
Uncle Joss cleared his throat, and Geoffrey smiled to put him at ease. Aside from Mother, Joss was his only family.
“Forgive me,” Joss began, his voice now the tenor Geoffrey knew. “I don’t want to overstep my bounds, but I…I’m sure you know how proud your father was of you. He would have been pleased to see you as earl…not, of course, that he would have wished Henry ill,” Joss was quick to say, “but he told me many times he thought you’d make the better earl.”
Geoffrey opened his mouth, but Joss halted him with a raised palm.
“And now that you are, with no brothers behind you, your father’s greatest wish would be for you to marry and produce an heir to carry on his line. You certainly don’t want to leave the estate up to me should you pass without issue,” he said with a laugh.
“You did fine,” Geoffrey assured. When news of his brother’s death had reached him, Geoffrey had been clinging to life after taking a bayonet through the back at Waterloo. Uncle Joss had had to act as proxy until Geoffrey’s health stabilized enough to make the trip from Belgium.