Georgiana, who was at that moment still vexed with her sister, and struggling to summon a response which was not tearful, managed. ‘You are very kind,’ was then prevented from saying any more by Jane, who came in with a tray of tea, a small flask, and some bread and butter and cake. Henry set to while Georgiana watched.
‘Well, I shan’t accuse you of inconstancy Henry, even though I might have grounds,’ she admonished him, trying for sternness, but smiling despite herself. ‘but I do wish you and Miss Wright very happy! I hope we will be invited to the breakfast,’ she added solemnly.
‘If you will promise to dance with me, then yes!’
She smiled wanly at that, thinking immediately of another dance partner, who had matched her steps as well as her cousin ever had, and then, to quell the ache in her heart, ‘I wonder Mama let you come to get me. I supposed she would be quite smug to know that I was trapped here, at Thornleigh. I was not allowed to forget for a moment that I spurned my duty to our family when I refused Captain Brandt! I think she means to have me accept him yet! She must be quite jubilant to hear I am snowed in at Thornleigh!’
‘Your mother doesn’t know I am here,’ replied Henry, adding a liberal dash of ‘Ol’ Tom’ to his black tea. ‘It was my own idea entirely. I knew she would not want me whisking you away, if you had been thrown by chance into his path once again!’
Georgiana wondered which fate was the worse; to be home, still enduring the admonishments of her mother, or here, thrown, as Henry said, into Captain Brandt’s path once again, against both their inclinations, and having to inure herself to the knowledge that he saw her only as a convenience!
Henry helped himself to more cake. ‘How is Julia?’
‘She is much better, but a little weak…I hope she is well enough to travel tomorrow,’ she added, her voice so strained as to make even Henry sit up and take note. ‘If you would accompany us, I think I shall be very grateful.’
Henry gave her a quizzical look. ‘Yes, of course. But Cousin, you are not looking quite yourself. Are you ill? Has something happened? Has that great brute made you and Julia unwelcome?’
Georgiana gave a strained laugh. ‘No, truly, I am quite well. Nothing has happened. I am merely tired, from looking after Julia these past five days. Oh Henry, I think I am quite glad you are come! After our difference of opinion, you cannot conceive how glad I am to know that I still have my dear cousin!’
Henry had the grace to look abashed. ‘Well, I am quite penitent, on that score. I now own that it was abominable of me, to ask you, to make my offer to you in such a manner. The things I said then, I never meant— that is, I am sorry, Georgie, will you forgive me?’
She leaned forward to take his proffered hands, and kissed his cheek with affection. ‘Oh Henry,’ she sighed. ‘Of course I do! You are a great scoundrel, but I do love you, you know! Now, do tell me how long this engagement is to be? Oh, I abhor a long engagement, do say the wedding will be very soon!’
She leaned back to regard his face, and then a movement caught her eye. Captain Brandt stood in the doorway.
Twenty Two
‘Oh! I do like that one, and that one. Did you paint them, Captain Brandt?’
Julia’s sweet, high tones rang through an otherwise subdued room, as Georgiana, her sister, Henry, and Captain Brandt stood about rather awkwardly in the drawing room, ostensibly admiring the pretty watercolours which adorned the walls. Julia, although still weak, was now able to move about and had begged to be allowed to dine with the party that evening. Georgiana, supposing that her sister’s presence would have the effect of reducing the awkwardness which had attended Captain Brandt’s presence in the drawing room earlier, had condescended to her wishes quickly, and the young lady had subsequently been carried down the stairs earlier by Manfred, who now hovered, protective and doting, in the background. Julia was ecstatic to be allowed to join them in the dining room, and since it was their last night at Thornleigh, Georgiana had helped the excited young girl into her best white muslin, and had determinedly set a grim smile on her own face. She would need it, she thought bitterly, to get through the evening.
‘No, indeed I did not,’ replied their host pleasantly, bending a little to address his youngest guest. ‘They were painted by my sister in law, Phoebe.’
Georgiana apprehended the effort it must be taking him to remain as bland-faced as she herself. After he had discovered her cousin and herself in the drawing room, the shock in his countenance had passed smoothly, and by the time he had been formerly introduced to Henry Hall, he had all the appearance of calm. He had bade Henry stay for dinner, had Manfred make up a room immediately for him, and had been a bland but pleasant host for the remainder of the afternoon.
If he from time to time shot her a glance from under that shaggy mane, assessing her from that one half-closed eye, she paled under his scrutiny, but strove to hide the turmoil in her breast. He must never know the feelings which assaulted her heart! He must never guess!
Since he had entered the drawing room earlier, he had treated her with nothing but indifferent manners and cool, accusing glances. She apprehended well enough, that he had overheard the few sentences Henry and she had exchanged moments before he made his presence known and was under the misapprehension that she and Henry were betrothed! It must seem to him that she had dissembled, that first evening when she had tried to tell him that there was nothing between herself and her cousin. Now, the mere fact that Henry had come, to carry her off as a knight on a steed might do with his damsel, seemed to be proof that she had been disingenuous, quite aside from anything else! She alternated between vexation that again, providence seemed to be spiting her, and relief to have her flight from Thornleigh so fortuitously expedited by her aunt’s generous offer of the carriage!
It was as well, Georgiana thought sadly, that Captain Brandt had misunderstood the scene earlier. If he thought her positively engaged to Henry, it must prevent him from repeating his untoward behaviour of the other evening. She did not like to be dishonest, but it would make her departure easier, if he thought her attached quite definitely.
He had been cool but pleasant to Henry, and if something tense and knowing had slid between Georgiana and her host occasionally when they happened to exchange glances, Henry had not the wherewithal to notice it. He had spent the remainder of the afternoon with his younger cousin, examining the drawings of various naval vessels, and the nautical oddities which made the drawing room of Thornleigh look strangely like a ship’s cabin, while Georgiana had stayed in her room, awaiting the dinner hour, when she would, once again, have to endure Captain Brandt’s indifferent manners and cool reserve.
Now they stood about, awaiting Mrs Randall’s summons to table, an unusual formality on account of Julia’s inclusion in the party. Julia herself was oblivious to the marked formality in the air, and the coolness between them all, but hung onto every word spoken by Captain Brandt.
Fingering a little wooden model of a ship which lay on a table, and whose design he was explaining to her, she begged him to tell stories of his days at sea. ‘Oh, do, please, tell us something exciting! Did you encounter pirates? Did you ever see a sea monster?’ Girlish excitement lit her pretty dark eyes.
Captain Brandt’s eye glinted beneath its hooded lid. ‘Would it not cause you to have bad dreams, if I told you tales of monsters? Are you so brave that you can bear to hear the worst tales I have to tell? Come, your sister will chastise me quite shockingly if I put such ideas into your head, even if they are true!’’ he added dramatically, but in a low voice near her ear. His eyes met Georgiana’s fleetingly, unfathomable, and she swallowed and dipped her dark head.
Julia, to her sister’s startled displeasure, took Captain Brandt’s hand impulsively. ‘Oh, do, do tell us! I promise I am brave enough! I want to hear about the pirates!’
‘Julia! That will do! Captain Brandt, I am sure, does not want to talk about such things—’
But he was answering Julia, and paid her own pink-fa
ced interjection no heed. ‘Alright, young powder-monkey, you shall have some tales, tall and otherwise, but first, you must eat your dinner, so that your sister and uncle will not be anxious about your health!’
‘Alright,’ replied Julia meekly, retracting her little hand from his, and then brightening, ‘But I can listen, as well as eat, you know!’
They went into dinner, Henry at Georgiana’s elbow, solicitous as ever, so that she should not fall. His assistance, usually so comforting to her, suddenly felt cloying and confining, and she resisted the urge to shake off his arm under her own.
At dinner, Julia was so talkative that Henry laughingly declared that she was a chattering little magpie. Georgiana did not check her sister, however, since her questions to Captain Brandt kept the adults of the party from having to speak to each other, and, reflected Georgiana, it prevented Henry from inadvertently referencing his impending marriage to Miss Caroline Wright. But her fear did not come to pass, and Captain Brandt answered gravely all the questions posed, and supplied Julia in great good humour, an abundance of anecdotes on ship life.
Listening, and seldom making comment, Georgiana was thus able to be as silent at the table as she had wished, leaving her to pick at her meal, the last one she would ever eat at Thornleigh! She was careful to avoid her host’s eyes, although she felt them on her from time to time. Shortly thereafter, Georgiana took her sister up to bed. Henry elected to follow them up directly and true to his word, knocked gently on her door five minutes later.
‘Well, I must say your Captain Brandt is a cold sort of fellow, Georgie! Could barely manage his civil whiskers, but still, I suppose he wouldn’t have learnt polite nothings on the high seas! Little wonder no lady will have him though; he has not the manners to please a lady! Well, then, I shall see you at breakfast, and we shall get on directly afterward. I do hope the driver can dig snow, for I shan’t expect to get down off my horse and do it, you know!’
Georgiana, who bit her lip and refrained from replying, kissed her cousin goodnight, and put herself to bed as soon as she had put Julia’s candle out. But even sleep, when it finally came, could not relieve her from her sorrows.
Twenty Three
When it came time for leave-taking, Georgiana, having eaten a hasty breakfast, and seen to her and Julia’s trunks, stepped for the second time in eight days onto the door step of Thornleigh. Henry had gone over to the stables to collect his animal. He complained of having to saddle the creature himself, but Georgiana had mildly pointed out to him that Manfred had other matters to attend, and she was sure he had saddled his own horses before!
Her aunt’s carriage had appeared as promised, having left home at an ungodly hour to make the three-hour journey to Thornleigh. Manfred now loaded her own and Julia’s trunks while the driver saw to the animals.
Julia herself was with Captain Brandt, being escorted by him around the garden which the young girl had not wished to miss before they left. Georgiana had been forced to smile weakly and give her assent to this plan, when begged by her sister, all the while resenting the ease with which he had charmed Julia. But she had remained silent and left them to wander the garden before Julia must be called to the carriage.
So Georgiana had taken a quiet moment on her own, from a curiosity she did not want to admit to herself, to stand before Thornleigh and view it as she had not seen it before. When she walked down the steps, her walking stick in her right hand, she turned to view the house to which she had run for protection only eight days previously.
In daylight, Captain Brandt’s home was, she admitted to herself, an almost austere building in the winter, with its uniform sash windows, its square, symmetrical style of architecture, and its sweeping avenue of sparse trees, all bones and skin in their winter state. It had some pretty features, she owned, such as low garden beds along the walls, the ivy-clothed frontage, and she thought the gardens would look very well in spring, when the snow had lifted, but really, it was neither impressive nor imposing. It did not pretend to be handsome, or even worldly at all; she thought it very much like its owner. And yet, the house had a fascination for her, against her rational inclinations. She stared at the gargoyle door knocker, recollecting how she had lifted its weight in the dark, and let it clang down on the wooden door seven days ago. She recollected too, how he had come to her in her delirium, lifted her up, pressed her against him, and carried her inside to warmth and safety.
How much had changed between that day and this! It was as if something greater than herself had led her here, that dreadful day, to his door, and once she had entered Thornleigh, there was no going back. She must emerge changed, her heart broken and fragmented, as if she would never again be the same. Her eyes were very bright as she pulled her grey travelling cloak around her against the chill morning air and turned her face to the pale blue sky. Captain Asher Brandt. She had thought, only a few days ago, that they might be friends. How wrong she was! How ill-judged her thinking!
Julia emerged from the doorway. She walked sedately down the steps beside Captain Brandt, talking quietly and looking up at him every so often.
Handing Julia into the carriage, he turned to Georgiana. She grasped her cane more firmly. His one half-closed eye seemed to pierce her. She was so used to his face now, that she almost forgot his disfigurement; in truth, one side of his face was as dear to her as the other, and now she lifted her eyes to meet his, one last time. It was with the greatest effort that she could present an air of calm indifference to match his own. It was as if they were two strangers, making the small talk they both disliked, she thought miserably.
He did not meet her eyes. ‘Safe journey, Miss Hall. I hope your sister’s health continues to return, and there are no more mishaps along the way. At least you have your…cousin… to rely upon.’
She did not miss the insinuation. Then before she could object, he had taken her cane and placed it inside the carriage. Then, he had put his arm out and had handed her, too, into the carriage, the warmth of his arm burning her skin beneath her glove.
She withdrew her hand quickly. ‘I— I have not thanked you properly, for your service to my sister and I. Without your kindness—’
‘It was nothing.’ His voice was as chill as the morning air.
Henry trotted around the side of the house, his horse snorting into the cold air. ‘Well, shall we set off then?’ he cried to the driver, who was now mounting the carriage seat. ‘Good day, Sir! Until we meet again!’
Captain Brandt acknowledged this with a civil but cool bow and turned to the carriage window. His eyes gave her nothing she yearned for.
‘Goodbye.’ Her voice cracked.
Julia hung out the window. ‘Goodbye, Captain Brandt! Thank you for rescuing us!’
His scar twitched. ‘Be on guard for pirates.’
Julia giggled behind her hand. Moments later, they moved off, Henry leading. Georgiana turned back, to watch him disappear into the distance, but he had already gone, the weak early morning sunlight streaming down where he had stood moments before.
~~*~~
The little seaside town of Whitecliffe, although it never boasted exceptionally warm weather, could claim for itself some of the loveliest views of the ocean, which sparkled in the sun regardless of the season, and was sheltered from any of the stronger breezes of those parts, by the lush green hills which surrounded it and gave it its charm. These views now worked some of their restoring magic on Georgiana as they rattled along the rough road which led through the hills and into the cheery main street. The carriage made its way along to the end of the town and up a slight hill toward the modestly grand establishment which was Northstead.
They were met on the rosebush-lined, white-gravelled drive with the open, welcoming arms of her aunt. ‘Here you are, come at last! And your cousin, Henry, too, I declare! How extraordinary! But of course, he is most welcome; you are most welcome indeed, Mr Hall,’ she cried, kissing them all and shaking hands with Henry. ‘Now, come away in, and sit yourselves down!
Why Georgiana, my dear, you are looking quite pale! I shall have to put the roses back in your cheeks! Cook will help me!’ she laughed at her own joke. ‘Now, sit down, dear children, and Abigail shall bring you some tea.’
The house, situated as it was on the outskirts of the town, was ranked highly among the locals, not only because of its being “the great house”, but by the merits of its succession of owners; first one old Earl Wakeham, and then, upon the old fellow’s demise, having no children to inherit, the wealthy and youthfully handsome, Mr John St. George, who had acquired the property for his new wife’s comfort.
On poor John St. George’s unfortunate death by drowning at sea while travelling to the West Indies on business, and Fanny having barely entered her second year of marriage, she was at first somewhat shocked at having a modestly large house all to herself, but, with a generous nature and a large purse, she was able to enter in to the doing of good among her community, and made only a modest nest for herself. A woman of excellent character and good breeding, Fanny St. George had lived long enough with her dear husband to have taken on a great deal of his indifference to wealth except as a means to be of service to others. The blatant displays of her friends and sister, she found distasteful, and she was never to be found consulting a paper-stainer or carpenter to new-furnish her drawing room, when the old papers and furnishings would do perfectly well, or to be accused of underpaying her staff, even if they were to help themselves to her brandy more than was good for them.
So when Georgiana sat down with the others, in the drawing room at Northstead, she found it delightfully unchanged, even though it had been some time since she had sat in its quiet, well-mannered, fading splendour. The tinted papers and gentle pastels of the room made a soft background for the fine tooled leather and mahogany of the furnishings, and although everything had the look of age, the room was not without the nostalgic gentleness that old things can bring. Georgiana found great relief from her thoughts here in her new setting, her relief palpable in finally being in some place where she did not have to please, to feel guilty, or to be on her guard. Other feelings did press in upon her however, and she was hard put to conceal the stray tear or two which wandered down her pale cheek occasionally.
Beauty and the Beast of Thornleigh Page 18
