Spinster and Spice (The Spinster Chronicles, Book 3)
Page 30
He leaned down and kissed her softly, tenderly, with all the burning in his soul. “Be as bold as you like with me, love. I’ll love you just as you are and just as you wish to be, nice or cruel, sweet or spiteful, and you can yell and scold and hurl breakable things, if you like, and I’ll only love you more.”
That made her chuckle and she gave him a coy, teasing look that undid him. “Are you sure? I have a fairly good arm.”
“Positive,” he insisted, nudging his nose against hers. “Toss all the crockery you want. My thick head can take the beating so long as my heart is in your keeping.”
Izzy hummed a delightful, low sound and her expression became almost slumberous. “It’s there. And I’ll keep it safe.”
Sebastian grinned, toying with her now loose curls. “I know you will. So, will you marry me?”
A slow, tender smile crossed her perfect lips, and her hands slid into his hair. “Marry a perfect gentleman, sir? But I am a spinster.”
“You are my spinster,” he told her hungrily, kissing her yet again. “And I’m not giving you up.”
She sighed a laugh and nodded, arching up to kiss him once. “Then I’d best marry you, sir. A spinster never causes a scandal.”
“How very nice of her,” he murmured with a suggestive lift of his brows, placing a very soft kiss at the corner of her lips.
Izzy hummed again and winked at him. “Isn’t it just?”
Epilogue
A daughter has two purposes: to represent her family with honor, decorum, and discretion, and to make a good match that will bring to her family honor, decorum, and discretion. What, then, of the daughters who accomplish the first but not the second? Are they, and we, to be faulted for our incomplete state; our unfulfilled purposes? Are we doomed to be considered failures in our term by something, which, through no fault of our own, may never be? Oh, the disadvantage to the unmarried, flawed, purposeless daughters of England, and what luck to those that have managed to escape such things, and do their duties without fault.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 9 April 1819
“We are quite the dreary lot, are we not?”
Charlotte’s voice was dry and teasing, as usual, but the truth was plain for all to see.
They were dreary.
But it couldn’t be helped.
“This room is dreary,” Elinor informed her with a sniff, never one to let Charlotte be the only one speaking her mind.
“I won’t tell my mother you said so,” Charlotte shot back. “She thinks the grey is a lovely shade and accentuates any adornment with great effect.”
Elinor glared at Charlotte with a strained superiority. “Then your mother’s tastes in décor align rather nicely with Mrs. Lambert’s tastes in tea.”
Grace winced audibly and glanced at Edith and Prue just near her. They each had similar expressions.
Charlotte’s eyes widened as she straightened in her chair, and she leveled the younger woman with a murderous look. “You take that back.”
“My aunt’s tea is not the issue,” Georgie said irritably from the sofa opposite, where she was lounging almost inelegantly. “Nor is Mrs. Wright’s, who has excellent taste, and deserves better than your insults to the contrary, Elinor. She is our hostess, now that Izzy is gone from our original place of meeting, and if you cannot treat her with respect, I will send you home to your sister and give you leave to explain to her why we cannot have you any longer.”
Elinor gaped at Georgie in horror, her mouth working soundlessly.
Grace quickly looked over at Georgie, whose pregnancy could no longer be hidden, desperate to change the subject. “How is Alice, Georgie?” she asked with as much gentleness as she could.
Georgie smiled at her, irritation fading. “Well enough, though it took her a good while to be able to confess the whole story to Francis and Janet. She believed Mr. Delaney to truly love her, as he had claimed to her in private. But then when she was alone with him at the Allandale ball, when she thought he might propose…” She shook her head, turning somber and resigned, leaving the rest unsaid.
“I only heard the basics of the affair from Izzy before she left,” Grace told her, shaking her head in sympathy. “Poor Alice.”
“How could we have been so mistaken in her?” Elinor asked, scoffing in disparagement. “To willingly be in company with Simon Delaney at all is sheer folly!”
Prue sighed loudly, giving Elinor a scolding look. “Alice Sterling is not to b-be criticized for trusting the wrong man, especially when we d-did not take her into our c-confidence on such matters. Despite what you m-might think, Elinor, we are not the soldiers of all feminine virtue against m-men with vile designs.”
“Hear, hear,” Edith murmured, looking rather worse for the wear. “The lass was duped, and there it is.”
“But how?” Charlotte frowned in thought, shaking her head. “I cannot see how she was so duped. Francis and Janet surely knew Delaney was not to be trusted, and they would have…”
Georgie sat up quickly, wincing with the sudden motion. “They didn’t know,” Georgie insisted. She sighed and rubbed at her back. “They didn’t know. Alice was manipulated by Hugh to consider all his friends as men of honor, and that there was an unfair prejudice against them.”
“Unfair?” Elinor cried with a laugh of disbelief. “Unfair, is it? I could provide a list of women…”
Edith cut her off with a sharp slash of her hand. “This is not a debate session in the House of Commons, Elinor! Kindly temper your tone and your opinions for the present.”
“Yes, please,” Charlotte added, her eyes wide as she took in Elinor as though she were a deranged child. “Calm yourself.”
“I miss Izzy,” Elinor grumbled, folding her arms across her chest and looking rather petulant. “She would make it right.”
Georgie sighed and tried to look sympathetic. “We all miss Izzy, dear, but you know if she were here, she would ask us to pity Hugh as well.”
“Not bloody likely,” Elinor said with a rough snort.
“I could pity him,” Prue broke in, her voice trembling with uncertainty. “As I understand it, he has been betrayed by a man he considered his friend, however misplaced that friendship was. Even you, Elinor, cannot believe that he would have sacrificed his sister willingly.”
There was a moment of silence from them all, not only to appreciate the perspective, but the fact that Prue had been able to express her thoughts so perfectly and without any stammering at all.
Elinor made a face as though to consider the thought, then reluctantly nodded. “I suppose even Horrid Hugh must love his sister.”
Georgie managed a wan smile. “He’s distraught. Beyond consolation. Tony says he has never seen him like this.”
“Good,” Elinor grunted, sniffling without concern.
Edith was far more sympathetic. “What will he do?”
“He’s going away,” Georgie told them, gradually reclining back on the sofa. “I can’t recall where, some relation’s estate. He has much he feels he needs to atone for, and he cannot face anyone until he is recovered.”
“Small mercies,” Elinor scoffed.
Grace shook her head, looking towards the window. While she might not particularly care for Hugh Sterling in any way, she could certainly sympathize with shame so great that one could not face it. Or indeed face one’s self in the looking glass.
She knew that all too well.
“When are Izzy and Sebastian due back?” Edith inquired of the group, changing the topic once more, and into much safer realms.
Prue chuckled a knowing laugh. “N-not for some time, I should hope. They deserve some time alone, away from all of London. I am glad they were able to marry so quickly.”
“As am I,” Georgie laughed, relaxing at last. “And so is Aunt Faith. She has never been so pleased in her entire life.”
“Yes, I am sure having a spinster daughter marry must be quite the relief indeed,” Grace murmured, swallowing with some difficulty.
/> Edith looked at her in surprise. “That is rather cynical for you, Grace. As was your last article, come to think. What’s the trouble?”
Charlotte’s attention suddenly centered on Grace as well. “Yes… You’ve been avoiding events of late, Grace. I know you were at Allandales’, but then I did not see you at the end of it.”
Grace managed a smile, though it would not have convinced anyone in truth. “I was unwell that evening, I fear. An appearance had to be made, and so it was.” She glanced at Georgie in apology. “And I am most dreadfully sorry I was unable to assist with Alice in all of that.”
Her comments were waved off with a dismissive hand. “We behaved with a minimal amount of fuss at all, and no one else was brought in. No one knew outside of the Spinsters, and they were told after the fact. Truly, there was nothing you could have done.”
She knew that, but it only added to her current feeling of uselessness.
Of being found wanting.
“That was ages ago,” Elinor groaned as she reached forward for one of the biscuits on the tea tray before her. “Do we have anything else to talk about? It’s been weeks since the Allandales’, and Georgie says that Alice is recovering. Hugh is gone, Izzy is married and reportedly blissful…”
“She ought to be,” Charlotte scoffed, grinning at no one in particular. “She can have no true complaints as Mrs. Morton. I wouldn’t.”
“Yes, you would,” several of them replied at once.
Charlotte coughed in mock-effrontery. “I would not!”
“Give her Lord Ingram,” Elinor suggested merrily. “He is new to London after all. I am sure he could take it.”
“No!” Georgie shook her head emphatically. “No, I like him far too much! Not Lord Ingram!”
Grace reacted to the name without meaning to, then prayed the flinch would go unnoticed by the rest.
She could not be the center of gossip and speculation, not now.
The gentle ribbing of Charlotte’s nature continued, as well as the objection to certain suitors of high caliber to be tossed her way, and Grace exhaled silently, pleased to no longer be the focus of attention.
She’d have enough of that to come.
“You don’t seem well, lass,” Edith murmured very softly, leaning close to do so. “What can I do?”
Grace smiled at her friend, though she felt it waver on her lips. “I’m not sure yet, Edith. But when I am, I will tell you.”
Edith nodded, squeezing her hand, and was quick to join in the teasing of Charlotte, leaving Grace to her thoughts.
She did not wish them for company. They were too much in concert with the focus of the most recent letter from her father.
Yet she feared these thoughts and this focus would rule her life all too soon. She shuddered involuntarily. There was no telling what might be in store for her when they did.
About the Author
Rebecca Connolly has been creating stories since she was young, and there are home videos to prove it. She started writing them down in elementary school and has never looked back. She lives in Ohio, spends every spare moment away from her day job absorbed in her writing, and is a hot cocoa junkie.
COMING SOON
The Spinster Chronicles
Book Four
“Oh, what a beautiful Spinster.”
by
REBECCA CONNOLLY