Flight of Fancy: Bexley-Smythe Quintet, #1

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Flight of Fancy

Copyright © 2012 by Catherine Gayle

Originally published in the anthology THE BETTING SEASON

Also published in the collection CHARMING AND JUST A BIT DISARMING

Cover Design by Adrienne Thorne

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

For more information: catherine@catherinegayle.com

Lord Falkland bets Lord Jefferson Blount two hundred fifty pounds that Lord Haworth will ensure the ruination of Lady Georgianna Bexley-Smythe by 15 May unless the Marquess of Stalbridge returns to Town and settles his debts before that date. ~19 April, 1813

Cedric Loring, the Earl of Montague, has been an honorary member of the Bexley-Smythe family for years. He’s always had a special, if sometimes strained, bond with Georgie. But when her name ends up in the betting book at White’s before she’s even made her debut, he knows no one can protect her quite like he can. If only she’d stop chasing after the very gentleman who could single-handedly see to her ruin.

Lady Georgianna Bexley-Smythe has the uncanny ability to remember nearly everything she’s ever read, and thus knows everything about almost everything. But as knowledge and experience are not interchangeable, she intends to make her first Season one of adventure. What could be more adventurous than seeing London from Lord Haworth’s gas balloon? Now she must avoid Monty long enough to make Haworth’s acquaintance and beg an airborne adventure.

***This novella (approximately 24,000 words) was originally published in the anthology The Betting Season, and the collection Charming and Just a Bit Disarming. It is available now by itself for the first time.***

FLIGHT OF FANCY is the first novella in the Bexley-Smythe Quintet. RHYME AND REASON is the second novella in the series. The third, THICK AS THIEVES, is currently available as a standalone. This series is also linked to the Cavendish Brothers novellas, AN UNINTENDED JOURNEY and TO ENCHANT AN ICY EARL.

Lord Falkland bets Lord Jefferson Blount two hundred fifty pounds that Lord Haworth will ensure the ruination of Lady Georgianna Bexley-Smythe by 15 May unless the Marquess of Stalbridge returns to Town and settles his debts before that date. ~19 April, 1813

Damn Bridge to hell and back.

And then to hell again, for good measure.

Cedric Loring, fourth Earl of Montague, called upon every blessed ounce of patience he still possessed, which admittedly was very little, as he strained to ignore the bet written just above the position of his quill in the book at White’s. The implement shuddered ever-so-slightly in his hand, so he gritted his teeth, dipped it in the ink pot once more, and then wrote: Lord Montague bets Mr. Nelson Guest fifty pounds that the first week of the 1813 Season will pass without a betrothal announcement. ~19 April, 1813.

His bet was perfectly harmless—just a way to ease himself into the new Season. After all, visiting White’s was what a gentleman was expected to do whilst in Town, and what was one to do while visiting White’s but wager on inane and meaningless things?

The wager involving Georgie, however, was neither inane nor meaningless.

Cedric resituated the quill where he’d found it and then turned to Guest, slapping a hand on his back. That settles that, then. At least until one of us can collect from the other.

And so it does. Guest gave him a droll smile. I’ll be happy to accept my winnings from you here next Monday.

Cedric gave a half-hearted laugh. We shall see, my friend. We shall see. There were other things he needed to see to first, however, not the least of which was the protection of his longest friend’s sister. For now, I must be off. Without wasting any more time in the banal gentleman’s club, he gathered his hat and gloves and made his escape, lest he be drawn into something else of the fruitless and senseless variety.

Once out on St. James Street, he pulled out his watch fob. Three o’clock. Perhaps a bit early for a call, but surely Lady Stalbridge would forgive him for such an abnormality. It was only the first day of the new Season, after all. The ladies wouldn’t have been out too late last night.

Cedric turned up Piccadilly and made his way to Number Seven, Berkeley Square.

Jensen led him into the drawing room without even the slightest hint of surprise at his early and unexpected arrival. I’ll inform Lady Stalbridge of your arrival, my lord, and Eloise will be in with a tea service momentarily, the stodgy, greying butler said. He gave a brief inclination of his head before departing.

Cedric used the few moments he had alone to gather his wits about him. Lady Stalbridge and her daughters must not discover that Georgie’s name was in the book at White’s. The marchioness could possibly learn of it when Georgie neglected to receive a voucher for Almack’s. That said, there were more than enough other reasons for the patronesses to look down their lofty noses through their ever-present lorgnettes upon the Bexley-Smythe family, so Lady Stalbridge might not suspect the truth simply from that anomaly.

Perhaps more pressing than keeping the ladies in the dark about Georgie’s name being in the book, Cedric knew without a doubt that he would have to protect her from the bet itself. Haworth couldn’t step one single foot near the girl. Bewilderingly intelligent she may be, but common sense had never been one of Georgie’s best attributes. She’d fall for the man’s charms and be lost in an instant.

And then there was the small matter of her brother. Whether Bridge intended to grace London with his presence before mid-May was anyone’s guess. The man’s ability to settle his debts upon whatever occasion he arrived, however, was not a matter of conjecture for anyone who knew him. Percy Bexley-Smythe, Marquess of Stalbridge was, to be plain, strapped. Everything not carefully placed in trust by the previous marquess for Bridge’s mother and sisters was gone, and Bridge had accumulated debts up to his eyeballs in the two years since he’d inherited the marquessate.

Probably higher than his eyeballs, truth be told, and he was quite a tall man.

Bridge’s mother and sisters had already suffered more than enough from his folly, but Cedric was damned if he knew what he could do to alter their fortunes…aside from trying to ease their way in society a bit.

His ruminations came to a sharp halt when little Lady Edwina Bexley-Smythe breezed into the room and squealed in delight at the sight of him. Oh, Monty, isn’t it wonderful? Edie asked dreamily as she flopped down onto a settee, sending her blonde curls flying about behind her. Then she all of a sudden remembered herself, apparently, and straightened to a proper posture with her