by Josie Bonham
Georgie stood and watched, no one had noticed her and it sounded too late for her to intervene.
“Pah! A year’s pay against what I know.” Mrs Powell’s voice rose. “It’ll do as a down payment. I’ll be ready in ten minutes.” She lifted her chin and snatched up an envelope from the corner of the desk.
Mrs Powell turned around and stared when she saw her. “Here she is, the wanton, scheming hussy. You’ll rue the day you married her and no mistake.”
Georgie gasped at the venomous look Mrs Powell gave her as she stalked out. Why had she wasted any sympathy on the woman? The room seemed to spin around her before settling back down. She looked at Max and the naked fury on his face took her breath away. He nodded at the other man who followed Mrs Powell out of the room. The door closed and she risked another glance at Max. His deep blue eyes had taken on that darker, stormy hue and his features appeared harsher than normal.
She squared her shoulders and walked to the desk. Max was still sitting so she dropped into the chair opposite. She forced herself to breathe steadily. His hands were on the desk and both knuckles showed white. After what seemed like hours he sat back and joined his hands behind his head.
Max’s lip curled. “How long have you known her?”
Georgie was bemused. What was he on about? “Who do you mean?”
Max jumped out of his chair and circled around towards her. Georgie felt a frisson of fear and then he pulled up short.
“Don’t trifle with me, madam.”
He sounded so angry. Heavens above, had she married a madman? Her mouth dropped open as realisation dawned. She licked lips that felt shorn of all moisture.
“Are you saying you think I knew Mrs Powell before I came here? That I tricked you in some way?” She jumped to her feet. “Well, if that’s your attitude, why don’t you divorce me and have done with it. You’re rich enough.”
She ran out of the room, determined not to let him see her cry. Was Mr Breakwell still around? Perhaps he could arrange transport for her to Yorkshire? She ran through the main rooms but could find no sign of him. If only she could ride she’d steal a horse and disappear. How could he believe that of her? Her legs felt heavy and she had to force them to carry her upstairs. Once in her room she locked every door and gave vent to a crying fit that dwarfed her tears the last time she had locked herself in.
Mrs Powell had looked so vindictive she must have made something up to extract more money. How could Max take the word of a servant over her? Didn’t he know her well enough to realise she had been brought up to be honourable? She pummelled the bed with her fists and howled. She hadn’t expected to hold the interest of a man like Max for long but she had expected to be treated with respect. How could he?
Thinking her a liar was worse than spending time with a mistress in some ways. If he didn’t trust her it was hard to see how they could forge any sort of working relationship to bring up children in. She’d run from one bad situation to another. She would be better off if he did divorce her but he wouldn’t want the scandal. Would his sisters help her to persuade him if she told them how things were? Somehow, she doubted it. These old families had a lot of pride.
***
Max ran a hand through his hair as Georgie stormed out. She looked angry but distraught. He thought about running after her but it wasn’t going to help with them both being agitated. She was playing a dangerous game suggesting divorce. It would serve her right if he took her up on it. His anger abated slightly when he realised she could already be carrying his child. He was not so selfish as to risk a child of his being born out of wedlock, even if it was a girl.
When he felt calmer, he would go and find Charles. If he hadn’t heard the comment Georgie had made to herself that day he could almost believe she was innocent. Yet all the evidence pointed to Mrs Powell changing from one blackmail victim to another. She would come unstuck at that. The look of fury she had given Georgie on the way out squashed any hope he had that Georgie was an innocent party.
He slapped a hand against his thigh. How could one man be so unlucky in love? He dropped into his chair and laid his head on the desk. Oh Lord, he was well and truly in love with her despite what she had done. He could have forgiven her, fool that he was, if she had confessed it all to him. This was far worse than Lavinia’s betrayal. She had been a youthful fancy but his love for Georgie was deep and abiding. He couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone else. How could that have happened in such a short time?
He ran Charles to earth down by the stables. The look of sympathy in Charles’s eyes was almost his undoing.
“Georgie trapped me into marriage with Mrs Powell’s help, didn’t she? What other explanation can there be?”
Charles shook his head. “It certainly looks bad.”
Max sighed. “My cook, Mrs James, recommended Mrs Powell to me. I believe Mrs Powell has relatives in Hargreaves village.”
“I’ll make some discreet enquiries.”
“Thank you. I know I don’t need to ask you to keep all this to yourself.”
Charles slapped him on the back. “Of course not, Max. Lord, it always used to be the other way around, with you helping me out of scrapes. I’ll do everything I can.”
Max nodded. “Is that a trunk coming out? Mrs Powell packed up her things quickly.”
“She did. Perhaps she expected to be dismissed. I wouldn’t give up hope Max. Georgie might not have set out to trap you.”
“I have to face facts, Charles. I hope something can be salvaged from this disaster of a marriage.”
He turned away from Charles and trudged back to the house. Barton was hovering in the hall and he asked for a decanter of brandy to be sent to the library. When it arrived, he felt too lethargic to pour himself a glass. He pushed it away and went to the window. A post chaise bowled past, with Charles following on a fresh horse.
He jumped to his feet. Brandy was no answer. He ought to check with Hadley that none of his blasted cattle had taken harm, something he had forgotten to do. Then he could ride out to the farm cottages at the edge of the estate to see if the renovations of last summer had done their job. He didn’t want to think about how he would face Georgie at dinner later.
He felt better when he was out and about. He let his horse have its head on the way home and a short but fierce gallop helped to loosen the tension in him. All too soon he was back at home. He dropped his horse off at the stables. His head groom was able to tell him that Mrs Powell had set off for London. She ought to have been put on the common stage but he wanted her as far away as possible as quickly as possible. He also wanted to know that she had indeed arrived at her destination.
London was it? That didn’t tell him anything. A dismissed servant with a grudging reference had far more chance of finding a new position in the anonymity of London. The wretch would probably land a new job straight away and be a year’s wages to the good. All he asked was that it was with someone who didn’t know them, which wasn’t that likely. He was beginning to regret his decision to make straight for London.
It would cause too much comment if he changed his mind now. There was no way to mend things between them quickly and it would be difficult to put much distance between him and Georgie at the Hall. In Town they would regularly dine out with other people and not always together. He could disappear to his club whenever he wanted company or simply to get away. It would be easier for him.
Georgie didn’t even have estate business to occupy her at the Hall. In Town he could give her a free hand to redecorate Hargreaves House. Why was he sure she would have excellent taste? Eliza would help and Sally too after the kindness she had shown Cecilia. They would help her renew her wardrobe as well. Yes, his sisters would keep her amused in town, which would make it even easier to keep his distance.
Then there was Augusta to reckon with. A change of plan would have her arriving at the Hall before the ink had dried on the letter. He shuddered at the thought. It was going to be bad enough explaining why he had foregone a proper family we
dding. Now things had gone so spectacularly wrong she would give him hell. At the same time, she would rally round and if anyone could make it right with the Ton it was Augusta. For her to do so she needed them to be in London.
He had a few more days to survive at the Hall. Tonight’s dinner would be an ordeal. Barton seemed subdued when he joined him in the library to check if Charles would be coming back for dinner.
“No, he has to get back to his uncle as quickly as possible.” That was true in the strictest sense and he didn’t want it being made common knowledge that Charles was charged with making sure Mrs Powell reached her destination before he returned to Porchester.
Barton nodded and withdrew. Max watched his retreating back. He hadn’t even asked if he wanted anything else as he usually did. He must be imagining things but he could swear his normally decorous butler sniffed as he went out. He sighed and made his way upstairs. Jepson was laying out his clothes for dinner. This time there could be no mistake. His valet’s face was rigid with disapproval. From what he had heard about Mrs Powell he didn’t think they were sorry to see her go. One of the servants must have heard his quarrel with Georgie. It appeared his staff had fallen under her spell nearly as strongly as he had.
He went down to dinner with a heavy heart. He entered the drawing room, half expecting Georgie not to be there, but she was sitting on a chair by the fire. Her back was ramrod straight. The only signs that she was feeling less than serene were her swollen eyelids and dark smudges under her eyes. He would love to think she was upset because she felt something for him, not worried about losing the position she had won.
Dinner felt interminable. The conversation never strayed from safe subjects like estate management and even their taste in books. That line was started by Georgie. He had to hand it to her she had courage. Not once did she mention the quarrel or her suggestion of divorce. The icy distance she maintained suggested he would not be welcomed in her bed after dinner.
In a way that was a relief. His anger was still simmering under the surface. He could feel it in the ache at each temple and the tension in his back. Other parts of his body were still clamouring for her attention. They would have to wait until he was ready to forgive her or had at least learned to forget her deception.
Chapter Twenty One
The following days fell into a similar pattern. Max rode out a lot and stayed in the library the rest of the time. Georgie spent her time reading and taking solitary walks. She didn’t see him until he joined her for dinner each evening. The first night she was relieved when he didn’t visit her bedroom. She still lay awake for hours listening in case he changed his mind.
She was heartbroken when he continued to ignore her. The warmth, joy even, of their early encounters had helped to give her hope that the marriage might work. Besides which, she was young and healthy and Max was a skilful and considerate lover. Her body craved for the attention. Relief swept over her when the fifth of January eventually arrived. The day was taken up with welcoming the Overtons and the Fordhams. The weather looked like staying mild enough to travel the day after the Twelfth Night party, unless Max changed his plans, of course. At least in London there would be more to distract her.
With his family there, Max fell into a better seeming frame of mind. He was more attentive towards her and she would have been hopeful of a thaw in his attitude if she hadn’t seen Eliza give him a searching look more than once. He was determined to put on a show for his sisters it seemed. Pride stiffened her back and she played her part to the best of her ability. By the end of the day she almost believed her own acting.
Max sat on the sofa next to her when the gentlemen re-joined the ladies after their port. “Eliza and Sally sounded happy to help you find what you need for the refurbishment of Hargreaves House.”
“Yes and they’re taking Cecilia and me to their modiste for a new wardrobe apiece as soon as we arrive.” She watched his face. “It sounds ruinously expensive. Have you done anything about sorting out my inheritance?”
Max clapped a hand to his brow. “No, I haven’t. Charles’s uncle took a turn for the worse and I didn’t think to give the task to anyone else. I’ll have my London man of business sort it out for you when we’re there.”
“I would be grateful.” She glanced away from him as she felt heat flood her cheeks but it had to be said. “I’ve no idea how much there is but it should be more than sufficient to pay my dressmaker’s bills.”
She glanced back at him and was surprised to see that his cheeks looked red, unless it was a reflection from the fire.
“There is no need for my wife to pay for her own clothes.”
Georgie sighed and said nothing. He sounded angry but it would appear he had decided to ignore her suggestion of divorce. She was glad. If nothing else she loved being a part of his family. Many people survived on less.
Everyone was tired after travelling and went to bed early, leaving them alone in the drawing room. Max took her hand as they walked towards the door. She glanced up at him in surprise at their first physical contact for days.
“Is there anything you want to tell me, Georgie?” He kept his voice soft but a muscle twitched at the corner of one of his eyes.
Georgie shrugged. “There is nothing I can tell you but I wish you would tell me what I am supposed to have done.”
“Mrs Powell didn’t give me much detail. I was hoping you would tell me the truth of exactly what happened.”
“You know exactly what happened.” Georgie shuddered. “I was running away from a forced marriage. You frightened me at the Golden Cross and I decided to walk to Benfort across the fields. I took refuge in the barns when my strength faded and you found me in the morning. There is nothing else to tell.” She glared at him.
He flinched away from her. “Oh Georgie, if you would tell me the truth I could forgive you.”
“There is nothing to forgive. I have told you the truth and if you don’t believe me you don’t know me very well. Why do you believe a surly servant rather than me? There was something sinister about that woman.”
Georgie clenched her hands into fists and stormed out.
***
With no housekeeper Mrs James had stepped into the breach. With her help Georgie had the preparations for the party well in hand. Eliza and Sally sought her out in the morning to offer their assistance. Between them they checked all the furniture was being moved into the best positions.
“How many people have you invited?” Eliza asked.
“Apart from the family, the Armstrongs, the Wrights and about six or seven families in the area that Max suggested.” Georgie turned towards Sally. “Max said you’re an excellent pianist and we might have some dancing if you don’t mind playing.”
“Not at all. Which room do you suggest? It doesn’t sound as if there will be enough couples to make it worth opening up the ballroom.”
“I thought the Marchioness’s sitting room would be adequate for a few couples and there’s already a piano in there. Max suggested I have it redecorated so any furniture and carpets we remove can stay out afterwards. Georgie bit her lip at their expressions. “I was forgetting, it was your mother’s room.”
Eliza smiled at her. “Yes, it will be sad for us to see it changed but we’ll get used to it and it’s your room now.”
“I’m so sorry to drop it on you like that. I simply hadn’t thought about it before. I don’t have to change it if you would rather it was left.”
Sally laughed. “Mama called it her folly. She hired someone to oversee the redecoration, including new furniture, while she went on a trip up north. It was much too elaborate for her but she was too frugal to redo it. I’m sure she’d want you to change it but keep a better watch on the project than she did.”
“Very true,” Eliza said. “We had dancing in there quite often, dancing lessons too. Mama said that being light to move around was the one advantage of the fancy furniture.”
“That’s something to remember. If there’s anything
in there either of you would like as a keepsake please say. I’m sure Max won’t mind.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “That applies to your other sisters too. I can’t believe I still have five to meet.”
Eliza put an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, Georgie, I’m sure they will all love you.”
Georgie grimaced. “Max says Augusta will be furious about there being no big family wedding. He’s not looking forward to seeing her in London.”
Both sisters doubled up with laughter.
“No indeed,” Eliza said. “She will ring a peel over him for sure.
“How is Mrs James coping with being in charge of all the arrangements?” Sally asked.
“She has it well in hand. It will only be the family for dinner. We’re going to have it early and there will be a light supper later for everyone. Max thought it best.”
That was one suggestion Georgie had been happy to comply with since it meant less time to interact with the Armstrongs. It would be awful if they guessed how things stood between her and Max. She was kept busy all afternoon but everything was ready in good time for her to change for dinner. She found Martha had finished altering the second dress. This one was a peach colour with long, lace trimmed, sleeves and a lacy bodice. Georgie loved it on sight, it brought out the highlights in her chestnut hair.
Dinner was a riotous affair with young Peter allowed to attend. The Fordham boys were lively company, although Cecilia seemed a little subdued. After dinner Cecilia joined her and Max in the drawing room.
“Is Charles coming later, Uncle Max?”
“I’m afraid not. His uncle is seriously ill and he is staying with him for the moment.”
“Oh dear. I hope his uncle is better soon.”
Max rested a hand lightly on her arm. “I’m afraid there’s little likelihood of that Cecilia.”
“That’s sad. Poor Charles, he hasn’t had a great deal of time with him, has he?”
Max agreed then leaned across to Georgie. “We’ll need to be in the hall in a few minutes ready to receive our guests.”
