To Marry an Heiress Read Free Page B

they have to play these irritating games? It didn’t seem quite honest to have all those objects do the communicating.
    “I took a gander at those books you loaned me. The rules over here seem foolish. If a man is walking down the boardwalk in Texas, he tips his hat to me and says, ‘Howdy, miss.’ Here a man can’t tip his hat unless I give him some kind of bow, and until I speak to him, he can stand in front of me until the cows come home, but he can’t speak to me.”
    “Because this is civilization. In England the men are gentlemen.”
    “You don’t consider Tom to be a gentleman?”
    Lauren bolted off the bed and stomped to the window that overlooked the most beautiful garden Georgina had ever seen. Elizabeth Montgomery’s adoration of roses was evident everywhere she looked. Cuttings in crystal vases adorned each room.
    “Why did you have to mention him?” Lauren asked.
    Georgina shifted in the chair, tucking her legs up beneath her, not caring one whit that she was wrinkling her skirt. Perhaps the Knickerbockers had been right in excluding her from their society. “I thought you loved him.”
    Lauren stroked the burgundy velvet drape a servant had pulled aside first thing that morning. “As a child loves another child, perhaps. I was only fourteen when we left Fortune. I barely remember what he looks like.”
    “Is that the reason you haven’t bothered to ask about him since I’ve been here?”
    “Why should I think of him when he’s forgotten me? He promised to write, and I’ve never received a single letter from him.”
    “Maybe because he’s been too busy making a living.”
    “Do you ever see him?” Lauren cast her a sideways glance reflecting such longing Georgina knew her friend did indeed think of Tom—and often.
    “From time to time when Papa’s business takes usback through Texas. He’s a very respected trail boss. He gets top dollar, because he’s hard-working—”
    “The gentlemen here don’t have to work. Therefore they have plenty of time to devote to the women they love.”
    “If they don’t work, where do they get their money?”
    “They inherit it.”
    Georgina set the delicate china teacup on a little table with spindly legs that didn’t look strong enough to support it. “They have to do something to generate income.”
    “Maybe they invest it. I don’t know. I just know they don’t have to work . They don’t sweat. I remember when Tom would come over at the end of the day, he smelled no better than a cow, his clothes were dusty, and his fingernails had dirt wedged beneath them. English gentlemen are always clean and they smell nice.”
    “There’s nothing wrong with honest sweat and dirt.”
    “Except that it’s reserved for the lower classes,” Lauren said softly. “We’re above all that here.”
    Georgina noticed that Lauren was drawing the fan absently across her cheek. “I love you” according to the language of the fan. Was she thinking of Tom? Was Tom the reason she’d declined the numerous marriage proposals that had come her way?
    “You’re a full-grown woman, Lauren. You could go back to Texas any time you wanted.”
    Lauren scoffed lightly. “I daresay I’d fit in as well there as you seem to think you do here.”
    A fit Georgina knew was as easy as trying to snap into place a wooden puzzle piece that had somehow managed to get associated with the wrong puzzle. Hadn’t their years in New York taught her that? She’d been incredibly relieved when her father had told her they’d leave the mansion they were leasing in New York. But instead of going back to her beloved Texas, they’d sailed to England. Georgina had been heartbroken. She wanted a home, but more she wanted to feel as though she belonged somewhere.
    With a sigh, Lauren turned away from the window and strolled gracefully to the canopied bed. “I wish you’d select a fan. I spent most of yesterday afternoon on Regent Street, searching for one I thought you’d