To Marry an Heiress Read Free Page A

approaching him. Or any other man for that matter. She couldn’t determine a topic that they might find fascinating. During the few conversations to which she’d been privy, the men had spoken to the women as though their heads served no other purpose than to provide a place for their hair to take root.
    Rolling her blue eyes for the hundredth time since Georgina’s arrival, Lauren plopped onto the bed. “Because that’s not the way it’s done, silly goose. I’m certain if you could simply master the proper etiquette, a gentleman would favor you with a dance.”
    Georgina had always thought her friend beautiful, but the years away from Texas had added a grace and confidence that came from knowing how she fitted in the world. Georgina had yet to figure out that aspect of her life.
    Shortly after the war her father had uprooted her and her mother so he could deliver goods throughout Texas. Since she’d finished her schooling by then, her education hadn’t suffered. And in some ways she’d learned more than she’d ever wanted to know—about people and what they considered important.
    “Ah, Lauren, it ain’t my etiquette that’s got the men shying away from me.” They’d attended two balls since her arrival, and she’d yet to attract anyone’s attention. Although in truth she hadn’t come here with flirtation in mind. Her features were as plain as the day was long. She was as steady as a rock—which more often than not made her as dull as muddy water.
    “‘Ain’t’ is not a word. Please desist from using it in my presence.”
    Unable to believe how easily she could rile Lauren these days, Georgina grinned. “I simply do it to irritate you.”
    Lauren stuck her nose in the air and looked down at her. “I’m well aware of that. I don’t remember you being quite so annoying.”
    “I don’t recall you bein’ such a prude.” Georgina followed her comment with a small chuckle to mask her quandary. While she cherished her friendship with Lauren, she also found herself discomfited by Lauren’s love of societal rules, rules that in New York had served to humiliate her.
    Three years ago, her father had decided they should stop their wanderings, establish roots, and set up residence in New York. But they found none of the warmth and acceptance they’d left behind in Texas. Georgina was certain the “old money”—those who comprised the socially elite—were responsible for her mother’s death. They had snubbed her and her mother in public, had pointedly never issued them an invitation to their balls. Her father’s hard-earned money made no difference to their social standing. They were never accepted, and acceptance had meant everything to her mother, who had grown up in poverty.
    Georgina had been taken aback when she’d first seen Lauren after so many years of separation. She fought not to equate Lauren with the Knickerbockers of New York, the people she’d come to loathe for their pretentious displays of snobbery.
    Lauren touched the closed fan to her right ear.
    “I know I’ve changed,” Georgina said solemnly. But her friend was a far cry from being the same as well.
    Georgina continually searched for the girl who had run through the flower-laden fields with her, climbed trees, and sneaked out the window at night to meet her by the creek. Beneath the vast, star-filled sky, they’d woven their dreams of marriage, husbands, love, and children. They’d promised to remain friends until they died.
    She’d felt bereft and alone when Lauren had left Texas eight years ago after her mother had married Christopher Montgomery. She’d hardly cared when a few months later her father had decided to sell their house in Fortune and take her and her mother with him on his travels.
    Lauren placed the fan in her lap. “So you do know the language of the fan.”
    The language of the fan, the glove, the handkerchief, the parasol…Why couldn’t these people be content to simply talk to each other? Why did