Fragile. That was the word he was looking for, he realized as he crossed over to join them.
He was waylaid, however, by Clara who gestured him over to a space before the fireplace.
“Clara,” he began, not even looking at his cousin as he kept his eyes firmly fixed upon Georgina. “I don’t have time just now. Can it wait?”
“You’d better make time, Cousin,” she hissed, moving to put her face directly in his line of sight, “for I believe I can shed some light on a subject near to both our hearts.”
That brought him up short. “What is it?” he asked, his attention fully focused on his cousin now.
Keeping her voice low, Clara said, “While Georgina and I were at the lending library this afternoon, she was approached by a woman whom she knew from her days with the army. I believe her name was Mrs. Kendrick. They repaired to the confectioner’s and I declined to go along thinking that they would wish to have a tête-à-tête. There is nothing so unwelcome when long-separated friends reunite as a third party with no shared history. I returned to Henrietta Street and spent an hour darning stockings while the aunts chattered away like magpies.”
Con took a moment to control his impatience, reminding himself that Clara was helping him. Still he couldn’t help raising his brows in a questioning manner. “Well?”
“You are lucky you’re my favorite cousin,” Clara said with a raised brow.
Continuing, she said, “When I came into the drawing room, I saw her like this. Obviously overset by something.”
Con muttered a curse. That much was obvious to anyone who had spent more than a few moments in Georgie’s company. Though he supposed he now knew that this friend she’d met at the lending library had something to do with whatever troubled her.
“Thank you, Cousin,” he said with a brisk nod. “That helps quite a lot.”
Without a backward glance for Clara, he stalked over to Georgina.
* * *
While she listened to Ernestine, Georgina had grown progressively more relaxed.
She’d considered remaining in her bedchamber for the rest of the evening, pleading a no longer fictitious headache, but a few moments alone with her own thoughts had prompted her to go downstairs for tea.
Her time with the army had taught her to maintain her composure no matter what. While her mind was spinning like a toy top, her body at least was calm. It had taken some doing, of course, but a few moments of deep breathing and calm had allowed her to pretend as if nothing had changed since she’d left the house early that morning.
Now that the ringing in her ears had begun to subside and Georgie had become aware of the various conversations going on around her, she realized that Con had come in while she was busy gathering her wits about her.
As she watched, he stood with his arms folded across his chest talking with his cousin Clara. He looked angry about something, though Georgie could hardly guess what.
Perhaps sensing her eyes on him, Con looked up and for the flash of a moment their eyes held. She tried to read his expression, but all she saw was intense emotion. Then, he excused himself from his cousin and began making his way toward her. As she watched him, Georgie felt her heartbeat quicken.
“And then I told old Cosmo Glendenning if he didn’t watch where his hunter stepped that I’d have him removed from the hunt for the next two years,” the Honorable Miss Ernestine Callow said vehemently, continuing with the never-ending story of some hunt or other. Georgie had stopped listening ages ago, but found that so long as she nodded and smiled, Con’s cousin seemed happy enough with the conversation. “I tell you, Mrs. Mowbray,” the auburn-haired beauty said, “that horse is my pride and joy. If Cosmo weren’t such a cold fish, he’d understand that they’re more than just transportation. The nerve of the man!”
“Cosmo Glendenning has crossed you again, Tina?” Con asked his cousin as he stepped into their conversational circle, his apparent annoyance of a moment ago seemingly forgotten. “I wonder if you realize he’s merely trying in his ham-fisted way to attract your attention. You’ve grown into a deuced pretty chit, you know.”
To Georgie’s amazement the other woman, who was quite tall and made Georgie feel rather incompetent, blushed rosily. “Con, you old flirt,” she said with a rather horsey laugh. “Cosmo is forty if he’s a day.”
“Gentlemen do not stop appreciating pretty girls on their fortieth birthday, my dear,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “Just consider it the next time you’re around him. I seem to remember him losing brain function the last time I saw the two of you in a room together.”
“Why ever would he do that?” his cousin wondered, her brows drawn together. “Oh, well, I suppose I’ll have to watch him more closely next time.”
“I have appreciated our conversation, Mrs. Mowbray,” she continued with a smile for Georgina. “Now, I’m afraid that I see Mama gesturing to me from the other side of the room. Which can only mean she has concocted a scheme to introduce me to some ridiculous gentleman at the theater tonight. It’s ghastly but one does what one must.”
When she was gone, Con raised a brow. “I believe you’ve made a staunch ally there. Tina might be socially awkward, but she’s loyal to a fault. Well done.”
“I did nothing more than listen,” Georgie said, careful not to let her posture relax. “She is a sweet girl, if more interested in horses than I am.”
“I didn’t come over here to talk about Tina,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “Clara tells me that you encountered an old army friend at the library today.”
She knew that’s what he and Clara had been discussing, of course, wishing she’d secured the other woman’s assurance that she would say nothing about Mary. “Indeed, I did.”
“I do not wish to be rude,” Con began, “but Clara said you seemed to be overset when you returned to Henrietta Street. I hope you didn’t receive unpleasant news. Perhaps about a mutual acquaintance from your army days?”
“You could say that,” Georgie responded, wishing more than anything that she could simply turn on her heel and leave the room. She had no wish to discuss her letter from Robert. And certainly not with Con. “It really isn’t the sort of thing one wishes to discuss in the middle of a Bath drawing room, however, so perhaps we could talk about it some other time?”
Georgie had no intention of discussing the matter with him at any time, but she was hardly going to tell him that now.
Con’s eyes narrowed. Even so, he nodded. “All right. Perhaps later tonight, after the theater.”
She gave a shrug that might have meant yes and might have meant no. She was simply too exhausted to commit one way or the other. Seeing her chance to escape, she said, “I thank you for the reminder. If I’m to be ready for the theater, I should go upstairs now and choose which slippers to wear.” She felt a bit guilty for using the sort of excuses she had once mocked her London friends for mercilessly. But, any port in a storm.
Without a backward glance she turned and hurried from the room, feeling as if Con’s gaze were burning holes in the back of her gown.
* * *
Once Georgie reached the safety of her bedchamber, she heaved a sigh of relief. She’d thought being in company would improve her mood, but unfortunately, she’d been unable to escape the thoughts she’d wrestled with since reading Robert’s letter.
It wasn’t that she felt any sort of jealousy at learning of Robert’s infidelity. She’d long ago lost any sense of ownership over her husband. He had destroyed her romantic notions about him almost as soon as the vows were said.
Was there to be no point, however, at which she could consider herself rid of Robert and his incredibly oppressive shadow? Add in the mysterious man who looked so much like him who had been watching her window, and Georgie thought the answer was no. Unless she never spoke to another person who had known him again she must be prepared for betrayals and abuse that had escaped her while he lived to surface from time to time.
The trick was, she to
ld herself firmly, to control her own response to these revelations. It was a lesson she thought she’d learned while Robert was alive, but these last days’ events had suggested that she needed to learn it again. In the meantime, she would rid herself of the physical reminder of him.
Crossing to the desk, she opened the top drawer and removed the letter Mary had given her and took it to the fireplace, where thanks to the chilly afternoon a fire was burning. Looking one last time at her name scrawled across the front in Robert’s handwriting, Georgie tossed it into the flames and watched as it succumbed and transformed into just another pile of ash.
She might not be able to rid her memory of her late husband, but she could certainly rid herself of physical reminders of him.
The clock in the hall began to strike the hour and with a start Georgie realized she’d been wallowing in self-pity for nearly an hour. What foolishness to allow herself to be upset by things that no longer had any bearing on her life. Concentrating on the task at hand, she got out her one evening gown—a watered silk in robin’s egg blue that brought out her eyes—and laid it out on the bed.
She was just about to remove the pins from her tightly coiled hair when a knock sounded at her door.
Opening it she saw Lady Russell’s maid Holbrook.
“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Mowbray, but her ladyship wishes to speak to you before you leave for the theater.”
“Of course,” Georgie said, repinning the curl she’d just taken down.
Following the servant down the hall toward her employer’s bedchamber, Georgie realized just how little time she’d been spending with her. Even if Lady Russell’s sisters were there to see her, that was no excuse for her own companion neglecting her.
She said as much when she entered her ladyship’s parlor. Tucked up into her favorite settee, Lady Russell raised her lorgnette to get a better look at Georgie as she entered the room. Georgie felt a self-conscious blush rising in her cheeks.
“I do apologize for not coming to see you sooner, your ladyship.”
“Do not be foolish, gel,” Lady Russell told her, gesturing for Georgie to come closer. “I told you that I was quite well enough to spend the week with my sisters and I meant it. You should take advantage of this time to see a bit more of the city, and perhaps to consider taking the waters yourself. If I don’t mistake myself you’re looking a little peaked today.”
“I assure you, I’m fine,” Georgie answered her. There was no way that she would confide what had happened concerning her late husband this afternoon. And she was certainly not going to tell her about the man she’d seen in the garden. She wanted Lady Russell to remain untouched by the ugliness that seemed to follow her wherever she went. “Indeed, I was simply napping before tonight’s excursion to the theater. Won’t you come with us, my lady? I feel sure we could hire a sedan chair to get you to the theater itself, then perhaps we could persuade the fellows to carry you up and into your box.”
“Ah, my dear, you make it sound so easy.” Lady Russell laughed. “But, thank you, no. I have seen the current production of Much Ado About Nothing, and have no need to see it again. I’ve never been a great lover of Shakespeare. Too many chits dressing up like men to suit me.”
Georgie had long ago discovered her employer’s aversion to the theater, but she did wish in some way to be of help to her. Especially at times like now, when the entire household seemed to have plans for the night.
“Then perhaps I’ll stay here and chat with you,” Georgie said with a smile. “We still have a game of chess to finish, I believe.”
“Stop trying to be so blasted dutiful.” Lady Russell shook her head. “When I said that you should go tonight, I meant it. You’ve done nothing but keep me company for the past few months and that is simply not good for a young unmarried lady.”
“Widow,” Georgie gently corrected. “I’m not this petite flower you think me to be.”
“No, of course you aren’t,” Lady Russell groused. “You’re as strong as an ox with a personality to match.” Her grin took some of the sting out of being compared to a beast of burden. “And yes, you are widowed, but that doesn’t mean that you should never marry again. You are a young woman yet, and what better place for you to see and be seen by eligible young men than the theater.”
“You’re trying to get rid of me?” Georgina demanded. “I hadn’t thought you would be tired of me already.”
Lady Russell banged her walking stick upon the floor. “I am not tired of you, you silly widgeon! I am trying to save you from ending up elderly and alone like I did. And if you can’t see that it’s as plain as a pikestaff that you are far prettier than I ever was, then you are far more foolish than I imagined you.”
“Good gracious,” Georgie said, exasperated. “Are you honestly telling me that you consider yourself to be elderly and alone?”
At that Lady Russell had the grace to look a bit sheepish. “Very well,” she said with a shake of her silvery head. “I am perhaps not quite so alone or weak as I’ve made myself out to be. But I am an eccentric old woman who has more money than is good for her, who wishes to see her dear friend, who is also her companion, enjoy herself for a change. So I will have no more arguments out of you, miss. You will go to the theater tonight and you will enjoy yourself. Even if I have to get up from my sickbed to make it so.”
As her employer became more and more vehement, Georgie’s astonishment grew. Finally, when she had stopped talking, Georgie said, “I had no idea you felt this way, Lady Russell.”
“Perhaps if you would stop worrying about things so much you might find yourself better able to observe.”
Unable to stop herself, Georgie moved forward to give the older lady a hug. “You are a wonderful friend, Lady Russell, and I am honored to have you call me such.”
Looking uncomfortable, Lady Russell gave a slight shrug. “I’ve been quite pleased with your service to me. I believe you care more for me than the nieces and nephews who have come to Bath only so that they might secure their inheritance from me. Do you think that I don’t know how reluctant most of them have been to come here?”
Georgie moved to take a seat in the chair beside the settee. “Dear Lady Russell, I don’t think they came only for the inheritance. Why, I’ve heard even Lydia say that you’re a dear and she can’t understand why the family hasn’t gathered like this before.”
“That’s a shock,” Lady Russell said, her eyes shining with amusement. “I thought the gel cared for nothing but dresses and gentlemen.”
“If you would allow yourself to spend more time with them,” Georgie said gently, “I feel sure you’d find that they are all quite amiable people. Aside from the fact that they’re your only living relations. I’ve lost both parents and I cannot tell you how much I miss being able to do the very things with them that you are avoiding with your own family.”
“Your mother always did love a good argument,” Lady Russell said with a sigh. At Georgie’s gasp, she nodded. “Yes, that was rather a bigger secret than you were planning to hear, wasn’t it?”
Georgie found she was having trouble understanding just what Lady Russell had said. “Do you mean to tell me that you knew my mama?”
“Of course I do,” the older woman said in exasperation. “It was long before you were born, of course, or you wouldn’t be so shocked.”
Grateful she was seated, Georgie gaped. “But, how … I mean … why … why did you not tell me? I’ve even told you how much I miss her and wondered about her life before she met Father. And you’ve known I was her daughter the entire time.”
Lady Russell took one of Georgie’s hands in hers. “There, there, my dear. I didn’t mean for it to remain a secret between us. But I was so concerned that you with your stubborn streak would refuse to come live with me unless it was under the guise of your acting as my companion. And every time I thought of telling you, I found myself frightened of what your response would be.”
“But why tell me now?” Georgie asked, he
r head still reeling from the revelation. “What’s different about now from all the times before?”
Lady Russell smiled. “If you’ll hand me that jewel case sitting on the table, I will tell you.”
Puzzled, Georgie went to retrieve the box and handed it to Lady Russell, who opened it and began sorting through the contents. Putting aside a diamond and ruby cuff bracelet, and another necklace made of opals and onyx, she seemed to be searching for one piece in particular. Finally, she stopped and removed a finely crafted necklace of matched sapphires from the case. The clasp was made of gold and was embedded with a large pearl that glinted in the lamplight.
“First of all, you should know that these are not part of the Russell entail. Just in case someone thinks to question why they are in your possession.” Lady Russell stared down at the gems and seemed to see something there besides the necklace. Shaking off her reverie, she continued, “They were a gift to me from my husband upon the birth of my son.”
At Georgie’s questioning look, she nodded. “Yes, I had a son. Though he did not live beyond infancy. It was the greatest tragedy of my life. And of course it meant that the Russell viscountcy went to a distant cousin of Arthur’s. But it was the loss of the boy that truly hurt. Not the title or the estate.”
“I’m so sorry,” Georgie said, clasping Lady Russell’s hand. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
Blinking back a tear, Lady Russell said, “I am sharing it with you because it wasn’t too long after that that my husband hit me for the first time.”
Silence fell between them as Georgie considered what that confession meant.
“I tell you this because I wish for you to know that you are not alone. You are not the first woman to have felt the mark of a husband’s fist, and though I wish it were not so, you are not the last. You’re a strong woman, Georgina, but I think at times you forget that you have allies. That you are no longer trapped within that awful intimacy between brutal husband and abused wife.”
Why Earls Fall in Love Page 9
