by Julia Quinn
But this was not the time to make such a decision. He could bring it up later, when she wasn’t in her dressing gown and he didn’t still have a handkerchief in his pocket stained with whiskey and Freddie Oakes’s blood.
They said their farewells—perhaps a little more stiffly than was warranted—and Nicholas remounted his horse.
“Wait!” Georgie called.
He turned his mount. “What is it?”
“How shall we tell them? Our families?”
“However you like.” Honestly, he had not thought about it.
“Yours already knows, I imagine.”
“Just my parents. And obviously they do not yet know you have accepted.”
She nodded, slowly, the way he’d come to realize she did when she was thinking something through. “Will you come with me?” she asked. “When I tell them?”
“If that is what you wish.”
“I do. They will have so many questions. I think it will be easier for me if you are there to share the burden.”
“The very definition of marriage,” he murmured.
She smiled at that.
“Shall I call upon you later this morning?”
“That would be most welcome.”
And that was that. There was nothing romantic about the moment, nothing to make his breath catch or heart leap or any of that nonsense.
Until she smiled.
His breath caught.
His heart leapt.
And he felt all the nonsense.
Georgie was eating breakfast when Nicholas arrived. It was as they’d planned; she wanted to make sure that her parents were both available when he arrived, and as the Bridgerton family tended to keep to a regular morning schedule, it seemed the best time for him to find them all in attendance.
She had not anticipated, however, that he would arrive with his own parents in tow.
“You’re all here,” she said with faint surprise when he leaned down to greet her.
“Surely you did not think I would come on my own.” He quirked a brow, the expression oddly devilish on so serious a person. “If I am to share your familial burden, you must share mine.”
“Fair enough.”
He sat beside her. “Also, I couldn’t stop them.”
This made her grin, but for some foolish reason she hid this behind a sip of her tea.
The Rokesbys were regular visitors to Aubrey Hall, but it was somewhat unusual for them to make a call so early, and indeed Lady Bridgerton wore an expression of surprise as she rose to greet them. “Helen!” she exclaimed as she went to her friend’s side. “This is unexpected. What brings you to Aubrey Hall this morning?”
“Ah, well, you know . . .” Lady Manston mumbled a string of nothings. Georgie was impressed. She knew Nicholas’s mother quite well; she had to be bursting with the news.
“Is something amiss?” Lady Bridgerton asked.
“Not at all.” This, however, was said with enough vigor and emphasis to cause the whole room to look her way.
“Mother,” Nicholas said under his breath. He leaned out of his chair and took hold of her arm, gently tugging her away from Lady Bridgerton. He looked over at Georgie. “Where is Edmund?”
“He and Violet already left with the boys.”
“Probably a good thing,” he replied. “It’s going to be chaos enough in a moment.”
Lady Bridgerton looked from person to person. “Why do I feel as if there is a secret and everyone knows it but me?”
“I don’t know it,” Lord Bridgerton said genially, getting back to his breakfast. “If it makes you feel better.” He motioned for Lord Manston to take a seat beside him. “Coffee?”
“Or champagne,” Lord Manston murmured.
Nicholas’s head whipped around. “Father.”
Georgie bit her tongue to keep from laughing at his frustration.
“You’re not helping,” he warned her.
Georgie decided there was nothing to do but make her announcement. “Mama, Papa, I have something important to tell you.”
Nicholas cleared his throat.
“That is to say, we have something important to tell you.”
Georgie had not intended to draw out the moment. But there was something fascinating and delightful in watching the parents react—Lady Manston’s giddy smile, Lord Manston’s smug happiness. Her own mother’s eyes widening as she realized what was happening. Her father, of course, remained clueless until Georgie announced, “Nicholas and I have decided to marry.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Lady Bridgerton exclaimed, and Georgie did not think it was an exaggeration to say that her mother leapt across the room to give her a hug.
“This is the best news,” Lady Bridgerton continued. “Oh, the very best. I could not have hoped for better. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it, except that Nicholas was not here, and it never occurred to me—”
“It does not matter how it came about,” Georgie interrupted gently, “just that it is happening.”
“Yes, of course,” her mother said. She looked over at her husband. “We’ll need a special license.”
“Done!” Lord Manston called out, and Georgie could not keep her mouth from falling open when he whipped the document out of his pocket.
“I have it right here,” he said. “We could get them married this afternoon.”
Georgie tried to intercede. “I don’t think—”
“Should we?” her mother said. “I mean, yes, of course, there is every reason to get it done and quickly, but would such haste be unseemly—”
“Who will know if it’s unseemly or not?” Lady Manston put in. “No one knows when he asked her, and it’s not as if anyone will think it’s not in some response to the scandal.”
“That’s true,” Lady Bridgerton mused. “It really is more of a we-must-make-the-best-of-it situation.”
“I’m delighted,” Lord Bridgerton said to no one in particular. “Just delighted.”
Lord Manston leaned over and said something in his ear. Georgie was no lip reader, but she was fairly certain it was: “This was my idea.”
Nicholas turned to Georgie. “Do you think anyone will notice if we leave?”
She shook her head. “Not even a little bit.”
“We must make plans,” Lady Bridgerton announced.
“No time for a grand wedding,” Lord Bridgerton reminded her.
“I’m not talking about the wedding,” she replied. “I’m talking about after. Where will they live?”
“Edinburgh, Mama,” Georgie said, even though the question, while about her, had not been directed toward her. “Nicholas must return to school.”
“Yes of course, but . . .” Lady Bridgerton let her words trail off, and she made a little motion with her hands that seemed to indicate that she expected everyone to understand what that meant.
“But nothing, Mama. I will go with him to Scotland.”
“Darling,” her mother said, “you don’t want to go to Edinburgh right away.”
Georgie kept her expression scrupulously even and matter-of-fact. “But I do.”
“Don’t be silly. Nothing will be ready.”
“I don’t mind.”
“That’s only because you don’t know.”
Georgie tried not to grit her teeth. “Then I’ll learn.”
Lady Bridgerton turned to Lady Manston as if to say, Help me here.
Lady Manston smiled brightly. “Lord Manston wishes to lease a house for you in New Town.”
“New Town?” Georgie echoed. She didn’t know much about Edinburgh, she realized. Nothing, really.
“It’s the new part of town,” Nicholas said.
“Oh, that’s helpful,” she muttered.
He shrugged. “It’s true.”
She scowled. “Really?”
“Some of Andrew’s friends are involved in the planning,” Lord Manston said. “It’s all very progressive, I’m told.”
Nicholas’s older brother And
rew was an architect by training, if not by degree. Georgie had always enjoyed talking with him about architecture and engineering, and if he said New Town was the place to lease a house, she was sure he was correct.
This did nothing to mitigate the fact, however, that if one more person tried to tell her what she wanted, she was going to scream.
“Georgiana,” Lady Manston said, “it will be very rough in Edinburgh.”
“Rough?” Georgie echoed. What the devil did that mean?
Nicholas leaned forward, frowning at his mother. “What are you talking about? It’s a perfectly civilized city.”
“No, no,” Lady Manston replied, “that’s not what I meant. I’m sure it will be a lovely place to live. Eventually.” She turned to Georgie. “You must understand—even once a suitable house is found, there will be much to do. Furniture to purchase, servants to hire.”
“I can do all that,” Georgie said.
“Georgie,” her mother said, “I’m not sure you understand—”
“I can do all that,” Georgie ground out.
“Only if you want to,” Nicholas said. He was trying to be helpful, she was sure, but what she really needed was for him to put an end to all of this interference and insist that they travel north as a couple.
“I am not going to remain in Kent after I marry,” Georgie said firmly.
“It would send an odd message,” her mother acquiesced.
“I don’t care about the message,” Georgie said. “I care about myself. And Nicholas,” she added hastily.
He nodded graciously.
“If I am marrying him, then I am marrying him. Boardinghouse and all.”
Nicholas cleared his throat. “Actually,” he said, “I’m not certain if ladies are permitted in Mrs. McGreevey’s establishment.”
“Even married ladies?” his mother asked.
“I honestly don’t know. I never had cause to ask. But the current tenants are all male.” He turned to Georgie. “I do want you to come with me to Edinburgh, but I’m not sure you will be comfortable in such an environment.”
“We won’t know unless we try,” she muttered.
“They can have Scotsby,” Lord Bridgerton suddenly said.
All eyes turned in his direction.
“Scotsby,” he said again. “I’m sure I’ve told you about it. It’s a small hunting lodge. Haven’t been there in ages, but it’s not too far from Edinburgh. I don’t see why they can’t stay there. Nicholas can travel in when he needs to.”
“That is most generous of you, sir,” Nicholas said, “but how far is it from Edinburgh, if I might ask?”
Lord Bridgerton frowned. “I don’t recall precisely, but it can’t be more than two hours.”
“Two . . . hours?”
“By coach,” Lord Bridgerton clarified. “Half that on horseback, I would think.”
“Papa, that won’t work,” Georgie said, leaping in before Nicholas could protest. “Nicholas is very busy. He can’t possibly be expected to travel an hour each way just to get to school.”
“You have to go every day, then?” Lord Bridgerton asked.
“Most every day, sir,” Nicholas said politely.
“I beg your pardon,” Lord Bridgerton said. “I’d assumed it was mostly tutors and that sort of thing.” He looked up at the room at large. “That won’t work then.”
“But Georgiana can stay at Scotsby,” Lady Bridgerton said.
Georgie’s head snapped up. “By myself?”
“You won’t be by yourself,” her mother assured her. “We’re not going to let you go to Scotland without staff.”
“I meant without Nicholas,” she said.
“It’s only temporary, dear,” Lady Bridgerton said with a gentle smile. “Until Lord Manston can see to the house in New Town.”
“We can find our own lodgings,” Nicholas said firmly.
“When?” Lord Manston said. “You’re always telling me how busy you are.”
“Not too busy to find a place for my wife to live.”
“Nicholas, dear,” his mother said. “Please accept our help.”
“I am happy to accept your help,” he said. “Just not your control.”
Silence.
“What Nicholas means to say,” Georgiana jumped in, “is that we would prefer to make our own decisions.”
Silence.
“What Georgie means to say,” Nicholas began, but his tone was such that Georgie thought it best not to let him finish. She gave him a sharp elbow and fixed an accommodating smile on her face.
“Scotsby will make a fine temporary home until we figure out a more long-term solution,” she said. She turned to Nicholas. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
He looked unconvinced. “It depends on the definition of temporary.”
“Obviously,” she muttered.
“Regardless,” Lady Bridgerton said, after watching this exchange with interest, “you will need some help, at least at the outset. I insist that you take Mrs. Hibbert.”
Georgie looked at her mother. “Mrs. Who?”
“Mrs. Hibbert. She is Mrs. Brownley’s sister.”
“Mrs. Brownley?” Nicholas echoed.
“Our housekeeper,” Georgie explained. She turned back to her mother. “I was not aware she had a sister.”
“She is new to the area,” Lady Bridgerton said. “Recently widowed. But she has experience and is looking for a position.”
“Well, then,” Georgie said. She couldn’t not agree. Not if Mrs. Brownley’s sister needed work.
“And we shall provide a butler,” Lady Manston said.
Georgie blinked. “I’m not sure we need—”
“Of course you do,” Lady Manston said. “And besides, it’s Wheelock’s nephew. You can’t say no to Wheelock’s nephew.”
“Richard?” Nicholas asked.
“Yes. Wheelock has been training him for several months.”
“But what if he doesn’t want to move?” Georgie asked.
“Head butler positions don’t open every day,” Lady Manston said. “I’m sure he will want to snatch this up. And besides, Wheelock is originally from the north. But by all means, you can ask Richard yourself.”
“Marian will accompany you, of course,” Georgie’s mother put in, “but I don’t feel right sending only Marian. I believe Mrs. Hibbert has two daughters. They shall go, too.”
“You can’t separate a family,” Lady Manston said.
“Certainly not.”
Georgie cleared her throat. “This seems a rather large retinue for a student and his wife.”
“Which is why you’ll need a carriage,” Lady Manston said. She turned to her husband. “You can see to the carriage. Whatever is best for cold weather.”
“We’ll have to send them with two,” Lord Manston said. “They’ll never fit everything in one.”
“We don’t need two carriages,” Georgie protested.
“Of course not.” He looked at her as if she were very silly. “One will return to Kent.”
“Of course,” Georgie murmured, wondering why she felt so chastised.
“But you’ll need two drivers,” Lord Manston continued, “and at least one spare in case one of them takes ill.”
“And outriders,” Lord Bridgerton said. “The roads are dangerous these days. You cannot be too careful.”
“I’m afraid nothing can be done about a cook,” Lady Bridgerton said. “You’ll have to hire one in Scotland.”
“We’ll manage,” Georgie said weakly. “I’m sure.”
“The daughters of your housekeeper’s sister,” Nicholas’s mother said to Georgie’s mother. “Can any of them cook?”
Georgie turned to Nicholas. “Didn’t you say you took the mail coach down?”
“Most of the way, why?”
“It’s starting to sound very appealing.”
He made a crooked grin. “That’s because you’ve never ridden in a mail coach.”
“We could take one and elope?”
she said hopefully.
“NO!” roared her mother.
And his mother.
Georgie startled. She’d thought she’d been speaking under her breath.
“Banish the thought,” Lady Bridgerton said.
“I was joking, Mama.” Georgie turned to the rest of the table, rolling her eyes. “I was joking.”
No one seemed to be amused. Except for Nicholas, who said, “I thought it was funny.”
“It’s a good thing I’m marrying you, then,” she muttered.
“Tomorrow,” he said suddenly.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Tomorrow.” He paused, somewhat dramatically. “We will marry tomorrow. And leave immediately thereafter.”
This was met with immediate resistance, the loudest of which came from his father who said, “Don’t be daft, son. You can’t pack a household that quickly.”
Nicholas shrugged. “Then the next day. Either way, I’m leaving. I must get back. I’d rather not leave Georgie to travel north on her own . . .”
“She can’t do that,” his mother said.
He smiled. “Then we are agreed.”
And somehow, they were. The parents who had just been arguing that they couldn’t possibly send them off to Scotland in under a week seemed to have no problem with two days’ time when the only other alternative was one.
Georgie stared at him in wonder. He was good. She couldn’t even begrudge his smirk. He deserved that smirk.
Two days. She would be married in two days.
Or to be more precise, she would be married and off to a new country where she knew absolutely no one except her soon-to-be-husband. She had to find a new home, set up a household, make new friends, learn new customs.
She should be nervous.
She should be terrified.
But she wasn’t.
And as everyone talked around her, the parents making plans and Nicholas taking notes, she realized she was smiling. Grinning, even.
This was going to be grand.
Chapter 13
It wasn’t going to be grand.
The wedding was lovely. The wedding breakfast delightful.
But the journey north . . .
No one was going to come out of it alive unless something was done about Cat-Head.
The other two cats were easy. Judyth had curled up in her basket like a proper feline and gone straight to sleep. Blanche had felt the need to demonstrate her contempt for all humans, so she’d spent a few minutes fussing and hissing before finally parking herself as deeply in the corner of the padded coach bench as possible.
