by Lorri Dudley
“To Upper Brook Street,” Papa informed the driver before climbing in.
Georgia turned to her mother. “I told him he could stay.”
“Merely until I can find other lodging,” Papa added.
Mama’s face remained impassive. “It’s your house.”
“I shall not intrude?”
“Stay, don’t stay. I don’t fancy either way.”
Georgia’s lips parted. Her mother always had an opinion.
Mama turned to face her and folded her hands. “You have some explaining to do, and I want you to start at the beginning.”
Georgia swallowed and began from when the ship arrived at Nevis.
It took her mother some time to get past Harrison being an estate manager, so Georgia was still telling the tale when they approached Upper Brook Street, and finished as they sat together in the drawing room of their townhome. “And then you arrived at the docks.” Georgia chewed on her bottom lip as her mother closed her eyes and exhaled a slow breath.
“A steward?” Her mother questioned once again and impaled Papa with her glare. “I entrust our daughter into your care, and you encourage her to demean herself by chasing a working-man across the Atlantic?”
Papa crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s a man of integrity, and she loves him.”
“She thought she loved the Earl of Claremont. Of course, she would set her cap for the first handsome man she met. She’s an impressionable young girl, but you were supposed to keep some sense about her.”
“I know Mr. Wells’ character. He was a neighbor, a respectable landowner, and a good friend of mine. They are in love, Nora. You allowed Eleanor, Franny, and Ann the luxury of a love match. Why can’t you extend the same courtesy to Georgia?”
“They were advantageous love matches. Besides, Georgia is too idealistic for her own good.”
Papa’s voice softened. “Much like you were at her age.” He rose and added another log to the fire. “We were a love match.”
For a precious moment, the laden words weighed heavily on the atmosphere in the room. And then Mama snapped, “And look where that’s gotten us.” She turned to face Georgia again. “You mentioned Claremont sailed to Nevis to propose?”
“Only because his mother feels it’s time for him to settle down, not because he cares for me. Before I left England, he had an opportunity to propose but used the excuse of having to put his affairs in order. It became obvious from our brief conversation that he was only appeasing his mother.”
“I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
Georgia issued her papa a sideways glance as a plea for help.
Her mother steepled her fingers. “It could be months before Claremont returns to London. It’s time for you to seriously consider the Viscount of Ashburnham’s suit. Even though the Duke of Linton has returned and Ashburnham won’t be handed a ducal title, my preference for the viscount hasn’t waned. His mother would be delighted to align our families. Banns could be posted by the end of the week.”
“Ashburnham?” Papa walked over and stood in front of Mama, his stance wide in a blatant challenge. “The man is a disgusting lout. I don’t care what his mother thinks. I will not allow my daughter to marry the likes of him.” He crossed his arms. “And Claremont. Can you honestly tell me the earl is a respectable man of virtue?”
A pregnant pause escalated the tension in the room.
“No.” A muscle in Mama’s jaw twitched. “I cannot.” Her gaze flicked to Georgia. “Don’t think I’m unaware of your escapade with him in the garden.”
Heat flooded Georgia’s cheeks, and she dropped her gaze to the carpet.
Mama crossed her arms and glared at Fredrick. “I don’t see how that factors.”
“So you’ll condemn me to an island for the rest of my life on a smidgen of gossip”—his hands fisted at his sides—“but encourage Georgia to marry a man who’ll be known for his indiscretions?”
Mama opened her mouth. “I…” She promptly shut it.
Papa’s stance relaxed. “She has my blessing to marry Harrison.”
“The steward?” Tears brimmed in Mama’s eyes. “What is wrong with wanting the best for your children?”
Papa reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He unfolded the cloth before handing it to her.
“I merely wanted our girls to marry well so they could maintain a suitable lifestyle.” She dabbed at her tears.
Papa knelt by her side and folded her free hand in his. “My love, Mr. Wells can do all that. He has integrity, means, and he loves her.”
Mama turned to Georgia, her eyes and nose red from tears. “You know that I love you and only want what’s best for you. I always have. That’s why I’ve pushed you so hard. You know that, don’t you?”
Georgia smiled past the blur of tears in her own eyes. “I do now.”
Harrison strode down the grand staircase of Carlton House, the Prince Regent’s place of lodging. His stomach churned with the rich foods and bottomless cups of wine that had been thrust upon him for over two weeks now.
He knew he’d upset Prinny by not rushing home upon the prince’s first summons. The prince was more than justified in making him wait for a meeting. Harrison had gritted his teeth and borne the extravagant parties, which began every night and continued into the early morning hours. He’d suffered the willful advances of women, who draped themselves over him like capes and made lewd comments meant to lure him into their beds. He’d had his fill of the debauchery, but had no choice except to suffer through.
He missed Max, who was residing with his grandmother in her London townhome, and he knew each day was another lost before he could return for Georgia—if she hadn’t already been lured away by Claremont. She’d never actually told him she’d wait for him, and he berated himself for not waiting for her to say the words—for not making her promise.
Just when he thought he might go mad, Prince George IV had bid him wait in the anteroom. Five hours later, Harrison had been called into the throne room for a biting meeting with the Prince Regent.
“I thought, all in all, it went rather well,” Lord Liverpool stated as he descended the stairs alongside Harrison. “You endured chastisement but regained your title, lands, and parliament seat. A lesson well learned.”
“Indeed.” Harrison slowed his steps and stopped at the bottom of the stairs where the polished railing ended in an elegant scroll. He turned to the prime minister. “About my request.”
“Ah, yes.” Lord Liverpool smiled and clasped his hands behind his back. “It’s good to have you back, Linton. I’ve missed your down-to-business demeanor.”
They continued to walk through the octagon room lit by overhead windows and a large brass chandelier. Busts of chiseled marble perched on wall-mounted pedestals along decorative panels.
“I received your request, and there are others who support your cause. Let me introduce you to Thomas Clarkson before you return to the countryside for the summer. Good chap and staunch abolitionist.”
“Thank you.” Harrison shook Liverpool’s hand and grinned his first genuine smile since he’d left Nevis. They parted ways, and Harrison climbed into the cushioned seat of his town coach. He tapped on the roof of the conveyance, and the driver snapped the reins.
He couldn’t wait to see Max. He even missed that stupid bird that incessantly called out “HarREE.” Harrison’s lips twitched as he remembered the furious expression on Georgia’s face when she’d called him the same name.
His mind drifted to her sunburned face, those eyes that had held his, those lips that had begged to be kissed. Heat stirred within him. He imagined her looking at Claremont in the same manner, and his jaw clenched.
No. He shook his head to clear his mind. He needed to focus, but he could no more remove her from his thoughts than he could remove the echo of the ocean waves from a conch shell.
Chapter 27
…I appeal to you for an odd request. I’m in search of an estate mana
ger by the name of Mr. Harrison Wells. If he is in your employment or you know of his whereabouts, please notify me immediately.
—From Miss Georgia Lennox to various lords in the countryside surrounding London
The morning after her return to London, Georgia discovered her mother and father laughing in the breakfast room. Sunlight illuminated the couple as they lounged in their seats while a footman removed their empty plates.
“So, then the parrot proceeds to say”—Papa flapped his arms and gave a fair impression of Oscar—“‘Rarwch, dumb bird.’”
Her mother laughed, a melodious sound. But as Georgia entered the room, they sobered. Except for a twitch of her mother’s lips, which she firmly pressed together, her expression was serious. However, she couldn’t hide the sparkle in her eyes. Georgia barely remembered her mother’s laugh, and couldn’t recall a time when she’d appeared so young, so…happy.
“Good morning, dear,” Mama said. “I’m glad you’ve finally decided to take my advice and wear colors other than pink.”
Georgia glanced at her mint green day gown. “The color pink lost its appeal after I arrived on Nevis.”
Papa’s eyes sparkled. “May I tell your mother of the events that preceeded this new choice of wardrobe?”
Georgia shrugged with a deep sigh. “If you must.”
Her mother leaned in and daintily crossed her arms. “I believe this is a story I must hear.”
The tilt of her head reminded Georgia of herself. Could it be? Was Mama flirting with Papa?
Georgia ate her eggs and toast while Papa retold the tale of her trunks being thrown overboard. Her mother half rose out of her chair. Georgia appreciated her mother’s indignation, for it had been her own response.
“Thereafter, we couldn’t go into town without finding half the natives dressed in pink gowns. I even saw one slave child who’d tied a pair of pink bloomers around his neck like a cape.”
Mama’s gaze widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand. She blinked at Georgia with horror in her eyes.
Papa continued, “Thanks to Georgia, pink is now all the rage in Nevis. I told you our daughter would be a trendsetter.”
Georgia put her fork down. “It’s a feminine color.”
Crinkles formed at the corner of Mama’s eyes, and her shoulders began to shake with what Georgia realized was mirth. She glanced at Papa, who beamed, and a well of giggles bubbled inside Georgia.
“What’s so funny?” Her sister, Eleanor, stood in the doorway. Her curious expression quickly turned into one of surprise. “Papa. You’re back.”
Always one for theatrics, she floated over to their father, who rose from the table. Eleanor kissed the air on either side of his cheeks. Papa held her and examined her at arms’ length.
“Eleanor, let me look at you. You’ve grown more and more lovely, just like your mother wrote, and she wasn’t exaggerating.”
Eleanor flushed. As he pulled her into his arms and embraced her, she released a startled yelp. Eleanor’s fingertips twitched like she wasn’t quite certain where to put her arms, but, after a moment’s hesitation, she wrapped them around Papa and relaxed.
Her reaction reminded Georgia of her own the first time Papa had hugged her after Harrison carried her in from the rainstorm. Eleanor’s eyes became glassy and brighter blue as Papa released her. Were those tears? It was hard to tell, for Georgia’s own vision had begun to mist. How had she not recognized that her sisters longed for their father’s love as much as she?
“Let me introduce you to your grandchildren.” Eleanor strode back to the door and waved them in. The nursemaid passed the baby to Eleanor. “This is Clinton. He’s nine months.”
Papa scooped the child into his arms. Clinton blinked his wide blue eyes at his grandfather, and then pulled the glasses off his grandpa’s nose.
“He’s not afraid to go after what he wants.” Papa laughed.
The nursemaid pushed the other two reluctant children into the room.
“This is Calvin.” Eleanor put a restraining arm on his shoulder to keep him from pulling his sister’s braid. “He’s five. And this is Clara. She’s four.”
Papa pried his glasses out of Clinton’s pudgy fingers and passed the baby to his grandma’s willing arms. He stepped closer to the children as he cleaned his glasses with the bottom of his shirt. Putting on the lenses, he kneeled, and both grandchildren backed into the safety of their mother’s skirts.
“Let me get a good look at you.” He peered at Calvin. “My you have a firm stature. I can tell you’re going to grow up to be a stately gentleman like your father.”
Calvin’s little chest puffed, and he nodded at his sister as if to say, See, that’s what I’ve been telling you.
“And you, little Clara. You not only have your mother’s beauty, but I can tell from the look in your eyes that you have a quick wit about you. I almost feel sorry for the poor blokes who want to make your fancy, because at your coming-out, you’re going to leave London on its ear.”
A pink stain filled Clara’s cheeks.
“Can you spare a hug for your old grandfather?” He opened his arms, and both children stepped into his embrace.
While watching the tender scene, Georgia ate her last bite of toast, then rose from the table. “Well, I have some searching to do.”
Papa lifted his head, but Mama said, “I’ll go with you. I don’t want you traipsing about the countryside unchaperoned.”
“I can chaperone.” Papa stood. “I might be able to smooth things over with Harrison.”
“Who is this Harrison fellow?” Eleanor glanced at each of them.
“It’s a complicated story.” Georgia turned to Papa. “You stay and enjoy your grandchildren. Mama can catch you up on all the latest happenings.”
Fredrick and Nora’s eyes met and held, and there was a palpable charge in the air. Eleanor’s brows drew together as she watched her parents.
Maybe this would be a chance to extend an olive branch of her own. Georgia turned to her sister. “Eleanor, I could use your help.”
Eleanor blinked and turned to Georgia. “You want my help?”
“I can fill you in on the carriage ride.”
She hesitated. “It might be a nice break from the children.”
A smile tugged at Georgia’s mouth. “I need some sisterly advice in a matter of the heart.”
Eleanor’s face lit up. If there was one thing she enjoyed as the eldest sister, it was to offer advice. It would be a welcome change for her, Georgia was sure, to have it solicited this time. Georgia threaded her arm through her sister’s.
As they strolled into the front foyer, Eleanor stared at her. “You seem different since you’ve returned.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied Georgia’s face closer. “Are those freckles?”
Georgia lifted her chin and smiled. “Indeed, they are.”
“Stay seated, Thurton.” Georgia waved off the footman, who’d fallen from the rumble seat during a particularly bumpy turn and twisted his ankle. “We can handle ourselves this time. Do have that injury looked at as soon as we get home.”
“Thank you, Miss Georgia. I certainly will.” The footman issued them a grateful smile as they hoisted themselves into the carriage.
“Georgia, I do not believe Mr. Osgood appreciated your grasping his lapel so,” Eleanor said, following her into their carriage and taking a seat.
“I don’t know what came over me. When the man refused to cooperate. I daresay, I thought I might strangle him.” Georgia closed her eyes and slouched against the cushioned seat. “Three weeks of searching and we haven’t even found a clue. I don’t know where else to look. No one has heard of a steward by the name of Harrison Wells.”
“We’ve tried every manor, estate, and country house in all of Hertfordshire.”
“I haven’t tried the duke’s country home or Tudor Palace.”
“Surely, you’re not going to knock on the residence of King George himself?”
Georgia sighed
. “No, of course not. If Harrison had been working for the king or even a duke, he would have mentioned it. Wouldn’t he?” She appealed to her sister for logic, since hers had run out six manors ago.
“Pshaw, of course, he would. Even scullery maids would brag about a position among the king’s staff. You may certainly rule those out.”
“He did say that it was past time Max saw his grandparents. Maybe he’s spending time getting reacquainted with family before beginning his position.”
“If that is the case,” Eleanor said, “then your only option is to wait. You left each steward and housekeeper with your card. They’ll send you a missive if Mr. Wells appears.” She patted Georgia’s hand. “In the meantime, it will be my mission to make it known to every gentleman of the ton that the Lennoxes are in search of Harrison Wells to thank properly for his kindness to our father.”
Georgia closed her eyes and fought the sorrow that burned behind her eyelids. “What if we don’t find him? What if he vanished, never to be found again? Or what if he returns to Nevis to find me gone?” Georgia’s throat clogged with tears, but she continued in a hoarse whisper. “My heart is his. I’ll spend the rest of my life peering into the faces of strangers, praying to find him.”
“I know I haven’t been a godly example for you, but our talks have changed my thinking.” Eleanor angled toward Georgia. “Remember you said to lean on Jesus, and he’ll make your paths straight? You’ve got to believe that God will lead you. Never give up hope. Look what he’s already done for Mama and Papa. I don’t remember ever seeing them this happy. And look how God has brought us together in this search.”
Georgia mustered a weak, grateful smile for her sister. “Thank you for all your help. I am truly in your debt.”
Eleanor smoothed a wrinkle from her skirt. “Well, I must say traipsing about all over the countryside has been a chore, but the chance to get reacquainted with my youngest sister was lovely.” She bit her bottom lip and looked at Georgia. “You were always different. You’ve always had a purpose. In a way, I was jealous, and not because you were Papa’s favorite, but because you weren’t afraid to be you.”
