“You know people here?”
Nod.
“Right, then. How about I employ you to help me and that way you can keep an eye on my every movement without getting smacked on the head again?”
She knew she wasn’t going to give up her nightly excursions. She had tried. But she had to be clever about it or she would be caught. She had much to learn about the streets of this city and who better to teach her than someone who lived in them?
He considered it for a moment and made a movement with his hand she had seen frequently in this part of London.
“How much am I willing to pay?”
A nod.
“How about a half shilling every night we go out?”
He shook his head. The little scamp was tough.
“A shilling then, no more.”
He nodded and smiled, satisfied. He got off the bed, spit in his hand, and extended it to her. She hesitated before taking it and sealed the bargain. He opened his hand to her and waited.
“Oh, you want to start tonight then?”
He nodded.
She shook her head. “Tonight, you rest. We will start tomorrow.”
He looked disappointed but accepted her decision and turned his attention to the pistol. She let him pick it up because it wasn’t loaded. He examined it and frowned at her when he saw it was empty. Disgusted, he threw it down on the table and gestured something to her. She had no way of knowing what he was trying to say. He was probably upset about the pistol and calling her a fool, which she knew to be true.
“You need to learn to write and read,” she said.
He looked at her with what she guessed might be astonishment. He seemed to think it over, and then slowly he shook his head.
“I will teach you anyway. It’s part of your employment duties,” she said, scowling at him.
He scratched his head and glared at her like some feral animal caught in a trap, and she sympathized, as she knew the feeling well. She made him promise to spend the night in the room, and then said good night. She walked down the dark corridor and out of the bustling inn. Nobody paid her any attention. She had become adept at disappearing in a crowd.
8
“I must say what fine weather it is for a picnic in the country,” Lady Delamere pronounced as she stuffed another tart in her mouth.
Georgiana had to agree. Blankets were spread out on the gentle slope overlooking hills of green countryside. A table laden with food was set up, carried all the way by footmen who now stood in their uniforms and white gloves waiting to serve the guests. Roast partridge, lemon fish, brown hulled peas, beans dressed in cream, tiny buttered potatoes and black pools of caviar had been excellently prepared. The tarts and sweets were numerous and a cake sat waiting to be cut. Lady Delamere had invited them to a picnic on her estate, Primrose Hill. More accurately, she wanted Charles to meet her daughters. Unfortunately, that meant they all had to be in attendance, including Georgiana, because Charles insisted on taking all his sisters.
She thought of the young pickpocket and what he would think of this extravaganza. They had so much food here, and no one paid it much attention. Were this feast laid out in St. Giles, it would be much more appreciated and soon gone.
She took a deep breath of the spring country air to clear her thoughts. Sheep grazed in the distance and a church spire rose up into the clear sky. The outdoors felt freeing, even if she couldn’t join Jane and Margaret as they ran across the field chasing butterflies. Charles’s return to London had brought the matrons out in full swarm to land him for their daughters. Regrettably, an initial mourning period had to be observed, but with the arrival of spring, they could hold back no longer. Mother had agreed to this one outing, as it would be a discreet gathering of good friends in the country, nothing indecent. She herself remained in mourning.
Charles sat surrounded by Lady Delamere’s three daughters as they plied him with questions about his heroic endeavors at sea. He answered and smiled and flirted with them, enjoying their company and making sure not to single any girl out.
Georgiana considered her mother who sat close by, silent and still annoyed that the twins and her daughter were in attendance. She had managed to keep the twins housebound almost since birth, but Charles refused to attend unless the children did. In the end, Mama was forced to relinquish the point or give up the engagement, which at such a late hour would have been against all good manners.
“Lady Wyndham tells us that you are to be engaged,” Mrs. Desmond said to Georgiana. “Congratulations are in order, then?”
“Thank you,” Georgiana said, feeling annoyed that her mother was already talking about the marriage. She was wasting no time. “Sir Edward has yet to propose, though.”
“Not proposed?” Lady Delamere said, shocked. “Then I am left confused.”
“It was arranged before my dear husband’s death,” Lady Wyndham explained. “Under the circumstances, we have had to postpone the happy news.”
“Such a dark horse you are,” Lady Delamere said to Lady Wyndham.
Jane screamed as she fell from the branch of a tree, but she soon stood up again and dusted herself off. Lady Wyndham stood up in annoyance and walked toward the twins. She scolded them for their unladylike behavior and Margaret climbed down reluctantly. They were soon happy to pick flowers, the tree forgotten.
“Such wild children,” Mrs. Desmond commented. “Why, my girls all have mild tempers and now are married to good-humored, respectable husbands.”
“Indeed,” Georgiana said, feeling sorry for them.
“It’s quite a wonder you have not married earlier, Lady Georgiana. Did you have a season before your unfortunate accident?” she asked, eyeing Georgiana’s legs under the flowing black material.
“Yes, several,” she answered, and opened her parasol as she leaned back against the cushions.
“But your father found no one suitable?”
“He did not.”
Lady Delamere smiled at her. “He doted on you, he did. I remember quite well his devotion to you. He would not leave your side, and scowled at every handsome suitor. I do believe he was quite the most affectionate and indulgent father to you. You must miss him dearly.”
Georgiana smiled ironically at her mother, enjoying her discomfort but wishing never to talk about her father again. She wanted to leave it all in the past and never have to speak of it. She looked out toward the road at some riders in the distance. She shielded her eyes but already knew who approached.
“Ah, finally, here comes Captain Markham,” Lady Delamere said. “Charles, you shall have some male company after all, and not have the girls’ attentions to yourself for much longer. I wonder who it is he has with him.”
The riders galloped up the hill and dismounted. Charles escorted his small sisters over and introduced them to Captain Markham and his friend Mr. Philip Tavish from Shropshire. He was a tall man of six and twenty, Georgina guessed. His clothes were of rich fabrics in bright colors and she wondered that such a dandy would join a simple country picnic. He bowed to her and raised his head, smiling.
Tavish paid a great deal of attention to the young ladies and, delighted with the new arrivals, soon the Delamere daughters had them seated on their blanket comparing the finer points of living in the country and the city. The servants poured cordials and offered pies, then retreated to once again stand aside and wait.
“Such pretty and accomplished young daughters, you have, Lady Delamere,” her mother said, watching the three. Georgiana wondered how her mother could tell from such a short time spent amongst them. All Georgiana could ascertain from the short acquaintance was that Eleanor was given to vanity, Daphne spoke too much and Henrietta spoke hardly at all. They were all pretty enough, she supposed, but she could not imagine Charles married to any of them.
“I have done my duty by them,” Lady Delamere said. “They have knowledge of sewing, dancing, music, and language. I have tried to achieve in them a pleasant manner of conversation and address,
which is often lacking in an accomplished woman. As you can see, there is no lack of conversation between them.”
Georgiana glanced at Henrietta in confusion for she sat next to Mr. Tavish in silence. He in turn was watching Georgiana, who lowered her eyes.
“I believe for a young girl to be truly accomplished, she must also have taste and elegance,” Mr. Tavish said, addressing Lady Wyndham.
“Quite so,” her mother replied. “But it all starts with good breeding, does it not? If one fails in that, all else is lost, I’m afraid.”
Georgiana wanted to laugh, but stifled it behind a yawn instead.
“What say you, Georgiana, do you feel accomplished?” Lady Delamere asked.
“I’m afraid I do not have much to recommend me,” she said.
“Oh, come, surely that is not true,” Eleanor said. “Charles has said that you are quite an accomplished horsewoman.”
The attention of all was suddenly on Georgiana, and she glanced at Charles to see him smile at her.
“I’m afraid my riding days are over. As for the usual accomplishments a young lady is expected to have, I am a failure. I cannot sew well. I never took much notice of the pianoforte. I can no longer dance and my voice when I sing makes the dogs howl. I am neither elegant nor willing to adhere to correct comportment and I give in to the worst of sins in that I give my opinions freely.”
Lady Delamere laughed. “My dear, it cannot be as bad as all that, surely?”
“You have only to ask my mother, who can confirm all.”
Lady Wyndham glared at her. “It is true. I have long suffered under Georgiana’s temper.”
“There, you see,” she said and smiled.
“And these opinions of yours, are they modern?” Daphne asked slyly.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Dear me,” Eleanor said, sensing fun to be had. “You must give us a sample so we may judge for ourselves if you are indeed lost.”
“I do not think it necessary,” Lady Wyndham said, giving her daughter a hard look.
“No, I insist, Lady Wyndham, we are after all amongst friends,” Daphne said.
Georgiana smiled. “I confess that I find the idea that a woman must be accomplished is a disgrace. I generally despise women for allowing themselves to be enslaved to a lifetime of servitude, thus denying themselves any rights. There, I have said it.”
There was a brief silence and the young ladies shared a nervous smile.
“How shocking,” Daphne declared. “But whatever can you mean?”
“I mean, Daphne, that we women are not people but playthings, taught to value obedience by our mothers who perpetuate our disadvantaged circumstances while men are allowed a great freedom. They are allowed to own property and inherit. They are allowed to make a living. They can entertain themselves by gambling away a fortune, by getting drunk every night if they so wish. They may have harlots to entertain them, and after the heirs are provided, may even keep a mistress, provided they are discreet. All a woman is allowed to be is accomplished, and provide male children.”
“It is the most a woman can hope for. She must first obey her father, then her husband. She owns nothing and must know nothing beyond how to entertain. If she is destitute, she cannot earn her own living. She is little better than a brood mare with the same value as one if she is fortunate. I believe being accomplished is not a goal for which any young lady should strive. It is but an insult to her gender for she can be so much more.”
Her monologue was followed by utter silence with only the birds still to be heard. The company around her sat stunned, and she lowered her eyes and tried hard not to smile. She had shocked even Charles. She dared not look at her mother, knowing what she would see there.
“That is quite abominable, Georgiana,” Lady Delamere said, recovering first. “Surely, we do not deserve such censure as mothers.”
“You deny the state women find themselves in?”
“I cannot. But what is to be done? One must, after all, adhere to those around one. It is the way things are.”
Georgiana found the old woman’s honesty refreshing.
“We need a revolution,” Georgiana said. “Teach your daughters to demand more from their husbands and themselves.”
“I have warned you that she has no calmness of temper. It is a defect that no amount of good breeding or education can overcome,” her mother said, fanning herself vigorously lest a fainting spell should arise.
“And you, Eleanor?” Georgiana challenged the young woman, ignoring her mother. “Do you not feel cheated by life, having been born female?”
“Not at all,” she said, glancing at Charles and smiling. “I am content to serve my husband and wish only that I may have the honor to do so one day.”
“Ah, spoken like a well-bred young lady. Wouldn’t you say, mother?” She laughed at Eleanor’s words, not surprised. “You bring to mind my father’s pointer bitch; she, too, was well trained.”
“Enough, Georgiana,” Charles said. “You go too far.”
“My apologies, Eleanor,” she said, contrite. “I’m afraid my manners are in disuse.”
“Not at all,” she replied graciously.
“What say you, men?” Georgiana asked, addressing the outnumbered men. “Will you give us the power to own land, to make a living and determine our own fates?”
“That and the moon and stars, did you wish it, Georgiana,” Nicholas said with a smile, and everyone laughed as the tension lifted.
“Good heavens, Miss Georgiana Wyndham, you have certainly got spirit,” Lady Delamere declared. “I for one feel that spirit is much needed in a woman under the circumstances you have described.”
“You are kind,” she said. “Would that others agreed with you.”
Jane and Margaret came running up to the adults and fell down on the blanket next to Georgiana, each with a bouquet for her. “For me?” she asked, and they nodded in pleasure.
“We want to go down to the water, Georgy, can we please?” Margaret asked, her shiny brown hair flying about her face.
Georgiana put her flowers in her lap, and pulled Margaret closer to re-pin her hair, knowing it would soon escape its bounds again. “You will have to ask Charles,” she smiled.
Jane’s foot knocked over a glass, and spilled Lady Delamere’s ale on her yellow dress.
“Oh, do be careful,” Lady Wyndham said, raising her voice and angrily pulling the child’s foot away. “I do apologize, Lady Delamere.”
“That’s quite alright, dear,” she said to Jane. “I was done with it anyway. A walk down to the water sounds the right idea.”
She stood up, and reached out a hand to the girls. They looked at Georgiana who nodded at them. They took Lady Delamere’s hands and happily skipped off. The young ladies joined the expedition, and soon only Georgiana and Nicholas were left to watch them find dragonflies by the water. Jane was happy to hold on to Lady Delamere who seemed delighted by her spirit while Margaret found Charles more engaging. He made her a boat from a piece of wood and they floated it down the stream. She had never seen the girls so happy, and it was thanks to Charles.
She closed her eyes and listened to their laughter floating on the breeze, thinking this was how she would remember the day. She didn’t open her eyes when she felt Nicholas sit down next to her. He sat silently and she finally sat up out of curiosity. He was studying a flower between his hands.
“Have you lost interest in the fair accomplished young ladies already?” she asked and glanced toward the stream where one of the young ladies in question was watching them.
“I keep you company for I cannot comprehend such neglect.”
“Oh, Nicholas. You always were chivalrous but I assure you I am not in need of pity. Go and join them. Look, the young Miss Daphne seems quite enamored of you for she keeps glancing our way.”
“The young Miss Daphne sadly does not hold my attention.”
“No? Why ever not? She is quite pretty with her light complexion and pre
tty lips.”
“Then you kiss her.”
Georgiana feigned shock, and he smiled at her reaction. He saw the others had gathered by the water. “She is pretty enough, but shy and diffident.”
“Then you prefer a more passionate nature?”
“I prefer a true paragon of virtue. An amiable-tempered girl who can cheer my evenings,” he teased.
“Dear lord, that sounds dull.”
“Then I defer to your greater wisdom. Tell me, what would you seek in a wife?”
“I would begin with a bold rider, a decent shot, and a woman who can recognize the finer qualities of a good port. With these true accomplishments in place, you are assured of good taste, passion and a fine figure.”
Nicholas laughed. “I salute your superior choice.”
Their conversation seemed to annoy Miss Daphne for she whispered angrily to her sister who turned to glance at them with a frown. “We are creating scandal, Nicholas,” she sighed.
He took her hand in his and turned it over, kissing her palm. “Then let us warrant it, Miss Wyndham.”
“Why, Captain Markham, you have grown bold.”
“Do you disapprove?”
“Hardly, I only fear for your reputation for I have taken leave of my senses and suffer from a great lack of good judgment.”
He smiled. “You are grown cynical and hard on men, it is true.”
“Forgive me, Nicholas. I think highly of you and Charles, of course.”
“I wonder then what has brought you to such a bitter state.”
“Is that what I seem to be?” she asked sadly. “I suppose it must be.”
He studied her intently, a frown back on his face and she was conscious of her perspiring cheeks. It was a hot day and her parasol did little to keep the heat at bay. She wanted to wipe her handkerchief across her brow but could not do it with him watching. The jacket she wore did not help but she could not take it off for fear people would see the scars on her wrists. She had become used to hiding them but warm summer days did not help.
“You are too warm,” he said, noticing exactly what she didn’t want him to see. “It is no wonder if you are determined to dress in long sleeves. Is the fashion not for short this season?”
Ravenstone (Book 1, The Ravenstone Chronicles) Page 11
