Geoffrey stiffened. Damned Joss. He’d really hoped he could have trusted his uncle with the sensitive information, but it seemed Joss had proven to be as weak an ally as he’d feared. It seemed he could count on no one.
Except Liliana. Geoffrey started at the unexpected thought, and yet he didn’t refute it.
“Come, Geoffrey. We both know there’s little love lost between us. But can you not admit that I want what’s best for this family?”
Geoffrey did snort then. “Since when did you want anything other than what’s best for you?” He shook his head, irritated that he’d even allowed himself to be drawn into this conversation. He made his tone as formal as he could. “I fail to see what you could possibly want out of my marriage, madame.”
“You wound me, Geoffrey,” his mother said, a slight tremble in her voice.
Geoffrey glanced over, surprised by the uncharacteristic weakness. He raised a brow, trying to decide if this vulnerability she showed was just another ploy to sway him.
The countess took a shaky breath. She kept her gaze straight ahead but lowered her voice. “You and I are all that’s left,” she said. One shoulder lifted in an absent shrug. “Well, there’s Joss, much good as he is.” She sighed. “I suppose he does have his uses.”
Yes. As your spy. Geoffrey held his tongue. How like his mother to regard one’s value as only what one could do for her.
“I never expected to outlive your brother,” the countess said after a few steps, and for a moment Geoffrey actually believed the stricken look upon her face. If she’d had any tender feelings in her life, they would have been for Henry. “Or you, for that matter,” she added, slanting her eyes to him, “even though you were at war for so long.”
She immediately looked forward again. “When your brother was killed, and then you were so grievously wounded, I realized that I could very well lose you both. And with you gone, I’d be at the mercy of your spineless uncle and whatever greedy little fool he could convince to marry him.”
Ah. There it was. Geoffrey almost smiled. That was the mother he knew.
“I’m no fool,” she said as they made the turn at the east end of the ballroom. She smiled and nodded at a member of the local gentry but did not stop. “I know I lack the power over you that I commanded over your brother. He was weak. You are not. I also know that you are ambitious, where he was not. I think you will find that I know you better than you think.”
She stopped walking and disengaged her arm, turning to face him. “I truly did give the invitees my sincerest consideration. With the exception of one or two…” A frown crossed her face before her expression returned to its customary coolness. “Any number of the others would be a very good match for you, politically and personally. I know what you want, son. Don’t let your dislike of me blind you to the possibilities,” she implored.
Geoffrey clenched his jaw, the truth in her words irritating. Not that she knew his personal desires…although the realization that maybe she did disturbed him. After all, wasn’t he, in trying so hard not to replicate his father’s role in a marriage, trying to imitate his mother’s instead? The thought made Geoffrey nauseous. While he would never treat a spouse the way his mother had treated his father, wasn’t his refusal to give his love so as not to be the vulnerable one in a marriage in the same league?
No. It couldn’t be. He would never do what his mother had done. She’d been horribly, horribly wrong.
However, she was right in that she’d made stellar choices in her prospective-brides list. More likely than not, he would find the woman who would fulfill all of his needs amongst this group…He’d briefly considered more than one of them when he’d seen them in London. She was also correct in that he’d refused to consider a single one of them while they were under his roof by her invitation.
Perhaps he was letting his relationship with the countess interfere with his own good. Perhaps he should engage one or two of the ladies to see if there was any potential.
His mother smiled suddenly, causing Geoffrey to narrow his eyes. “Ah, Lady Northumb,” she said, reaching an arm out in greeting. Geoffrey turned his head to see the woman and her daughter standing right behind them. At the other matron’s conspiratorial nod, he felt his blood heat. By damn, his mother had expertly maneuvered him around the ballroom and right into the clutches of another matchmaking mama.
“Geoffrey, you remember Lady Northumb and Lady Jane, of course.”
“Of course,” he said, bowing.
“Lord Stratford,” Lady Northumb greeted. “May I say how much we are enjoying your hospitality? Indeed, my husband will be most gratified to discover how excellent a time we’ve had when he arrives on Saturday,” she said. “As will my brother, Christopher Wakefield, who shall be traveling with Lord Northumb. I believe you know my brother, from the Commons?”
Geoffrey kept his easy smile in place. Mother had certainly coached Lady Northumb on how to get his attention. If Lord Northumb was one of the most influential men in the House of Lords, Wakefield was his counterpart in the House of Commons. An alliance with Lady Jane would be very beneficial to Geoffrey, and everyone standing in this little circle knew it.
“I do,” Geoffrey said, “and I am very much looking forward to discussing issues with them both.”
The strains of a waltz filled the room, no doubt perfectly orchestrated, again by his mother. Three pairs of feminine eyes watched him with expectation.
Geoffrey managed to hold in his sigh. “Lady Jane, might you join me in the waltz?”
The diminutive blonde smiled and held out her hand. Geoffrey led her to the floor.
As they took their places amongst the dancers, Geoffrey reasoned with himself. Lady Jane might very well be the perfect bride for him. It was no secret her father desired an alliance, one that might be very good for all involved. She was pretty enough. Geoffrey determined to swallow his resentment at the machinations of their mothers and assess Lady Jane on her own qualities. Of course, if he settled on her, he wouldn’t approach her until a few weeks after the house party ended. He wouldn’t give his mother the satisfaction.
He rested one hand on Lady Jane’s waist and raised his other to clasp hers in preparation for the first steps. While her waist was tiny and flawlessly formed, he felt not even a shiver of desire. He frowned. Not exactly what one hoped for in a potential spouse, but perhaps desire would come as he got to know her.
He led Lady Jane into the first twirl. She followed his lead well, but Geoffrey found himself disappointed. Still, there were more important considerations in a wife than a well-matched dance partner.
“Tell me, Lady Jane,” he said, “what sort of activities do you enjoy?”
“Well,” she said, a perplexed smile gracing lips that reminded him of blushing rosebuds. “I enjoy helping Mama host dinner parties for my father’s friends.”
Geoffrey nodded. Good. Northumb held many a fete with political undertones. She would no doubt be well qualified in that realm. Her voice was pleasant, too. That might be a small thing, but if he were going to listen to someone for forty years, he’d rather it not be torture on the ears.