And thus, Lady Hetty would as well.
“Give me your opinion, then, Lady Hetty,” Tony murmured, leaning forward to speak further in confidence. “Whom should I bring into my acquaintance at this gathering?”
She glanced around the garden with a speculative look. “Well, there’s not many, I can tell you that. My relations have always allowed the most peculiar mixture of people into their society. I am far more selective.”
That was certainly putting it mildly, but Tony thought it best not to bring that up.
“Hmm.” Lady Hetty’s eyes narrowed as she continued to scan the gathering. “Mr. Sandford is a fair fellow. Quiet man, which speaks well of him, but very polite, which says nothing at all. You could liven him up, I have no doubt.”
“Thank you for your vote of confidence,” Tony muttered.
“Mr. Shaw would be your sort,” Lady Hetty went on without marking him. “Agreeable man, and the younger brother of Lord Radcliffe. Keeps to himself, tends to his duties, and doesn’t mind talking with the old women. Probably because his aunt is one, and he dotes on her prodigiously, but we mustn’t fault him for Augusta. And he also seems entirely uninterested in marriage, which would make the two of you quite a pair.”
Tony looked at the man she was indicating, who stood just outside of a group of people without looking as though he were being excluded. He could have taken two steps to his left and been in their midst, and yet he remained where he was, his expression one of careful vacancy. There was no telling what he thought, but he did not look particularly displeased.
He knew nothing of Shaw, but he did look like the sort of man Tony had come to appreciate, the sort of man who would be a wise and intelligent man of sense.
He’d consider that one.
“But as for the women…” Lady Hetty continued, her tone turning more intrigued.
“Don’t go selecting potential wives for me, Lady Hetty,” Tony warned. “I get enough of that from Miranda and my cousin, Lady Sterling. I couldn’t bear it from you as well.”
Lady Hetty turned her gaze to him, quirking a brow. “You don’t have to marry them, Captain, but it wouldn’t hurt you to talk to them. And you’ll have far less rumors floating around about you if you do. Otherwise people will wonder what in the world is wrong with you.”
This really was too much, and it was all Tony could do to keep from laughing. “Well, we couldn’t have that.”
“Certainly not.” Lady Hetty rapped her walking stick on the ground then. “Come, take me for a stroll, Captain. I shall make your introductions.”
“Oh, no, Lady Hetty,” Tony protested at once. “I couldn’t. You must sit here and take your ease.”
She wagged a ringed finger under his nose suddenly. “Don’t you say one word about my age or condition, Captain Sterling. I am still on this earth and I will continue to act as though I am. I’m not asking you to drive me around in a phaeton. Walk me around the garden.”
Tony knew better than to argue with a woman possibly twice his age about what she could and could not do. He rose and held out his hand, which she promptly took, hauling herself out of the chair with his aid. She nodded, looped her hand through his arm, and indicated that they should move on.
Despite her small frame and increasing years, Lady Hetty had lost none of her posture. She still held her head high, glided as proudly as any fine woman, and Tony was positive that if he let her walk on her own, she would have done so without any tremor or unsteadiness in her step. She dipped her chin with surprising modesty when acknowledged by others, yet at the same time she lost none of her poise.
“Not there,” she suddenly barked, yanking on his arm a little. “I don’t want to endure Mrs. Davies or her insipid daughter, and neither do you.”
“Apologies,” Tony said in a quiet voice, keeping his smile polite. “Where do you suggest we go?”
She pointed her walking stick towards a small group near a carefully trimmed hedge. “That’s a sensible group. Take me there.”
Tony steered her in the direction she’d indicated. “What makes that particular group sensible?” he inquired.
“Miss Allen is part of it,” Lady Hetty said bluntly. “She brings good sense everywhere.”
That hadn’t exactly been Tony’s experience with her, but he wasn’t about to bring that up. “Does she, indeed?”
“Do you know Miss Allen?” Lady Hetty asked in return, no doubt hearing the doubtful note he failed to hide.
“A very little,” he admitted. “That is… We have been introduced.”
His response was apparently lacking, for Lady Hetty grunted softly to herself. “And you said you were not acquainted with anyone here. So like a man. You mark my words, Captain Sterling, you couldn’t do better for a wife than Georgiana Allen.”
“I am sure she is a very…”
“And I do mean you, sir,” she interrupted, intentionally stabbing his toe with her walking stick. “I’m not speaking generally. You, sir, could not do better.”
Tony chewed his lip in irritation, wishing he had chosen to stand alone in a small patch of sunlight instead of conversing with Lady Hetty. Curse his unsuspecting naïveté. Of course she would be a champion for Georgie; they were so alike in temperament and wit.
But to choose him specifically? For her? It was beyond anything.
“Then it is fortunate that you are taking me there, my lady,” Tony managed to say, giving her a wry look, “so that I may plead my case to her.”
Lady Hetty chuckled and grinned up at him. “As I said, cheeky. You’ll do well for her. But you’ll have to wear her down first, Captain. She’s a mite feisty.”
Tony smirked as he looked over at the group, now aware of their approach, and at Georgie herself, who was watching him come with disapproval and warning.
“Feisty, you say?” Tony murmured. “Dear me.”
They were upon the group now, and Lady Hetty gave him a fair introduction to all present, ending, ironically enough, with Georgie.
“And I believe you are acquainted with Miss Allen, Captain,” she said, smiling almost dotingly at Georgie.
“We are, my lady, a little,” Tony replied, bowing politely to Georgie. “How are you, Miss Allen?”
“Well enough, Captain, thank you,” Georgie told him, somehow managing not to snarl, though he suspected she was dismembering him in her mind. “The day is a trifle warm for my taste.”
He nodded knowingly, composing his features into utter politeness. “It is rather, is it not? I do feel so for you ladies in all your finery, coming out in weather such as this. It must be positively plaguing to you all.”
The other ladies in the group smile and blushed, while the men looked as though they had never considered that but decided to be sympathetic anyway.
“That’s not the only plaguing thing,” Georgie muttered, picking at her white muslin skirts.
“Captain, did you see much of the war when you were in the army?” one of the girls asked with an unmistakable glint in her eyes. “It all sounds very heroic.”
Tony shook his head. “No, ma’am, I did not. We had our share of scuffles, to be sure, but the true heroes were in other companies than mine and are far better men.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Georgie added under her breath, coughing and smiling for effect.
“Why do you not wear your regimentals, Captain?” Miss Wells asked, though her arm was linked through a slender man beside her. “They are so very fine.”
“Not that fine,” came Georgie’s retort with another light cough.
Tony turned to her with a concerned look. “Miss Allen, are you well? Come, let me take you for a glass of lemonade.”
Georgie glared at him, but she knew better than to snap at him when he had personally addressed her. She gave him a false smile. “Thank you, Captain.”
He turned to the man beside him. “Mr. Greensley, would you see to Lady Hetty? I hate to abandon her.”
Greensley, surprisingly, did not seem to m
ind at all. He seemed close to grinning outright. “Indeed, sir. I shall offer my arm.” He did so, smiling now at Lady Hetty.
“As if that’s a comfort,” Lady Hetty grumbled, taking his arm and smiling anyway.
Tony offered his now free arm to Georgie, and she reluctantly took it, letting him steer her away.
“Claws in, for heaven’s sake,” Tony muttered through a smile. “No one else needs to know of your spite.”
Georgie’s jaw tightened, and she looked up at him furiously. “You used Lady Hetty to make friends? My spite for that knows no levels.”
Tony sighed patiently, nodding at the passing Galbraiths. “I happen to like Lady Hetty a great deal. I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable.”
“She is seventy years old!” Georgie protested as they reached the punch, reaching for a glass despite his offer.
“And still more enjoyable to associate with than you…” he mused.
She whirled to him with a gasp. “I am perfectly pleasant!”
Tony gave her a look. “You’ve yet to be pleasant with me, Miss Allen, and unless you are prepared to make introductions for me yourself and prove me wrong, I will continue to use the only allies I currently have. No matter what age.”
Georgie stared at him for a long moment, her wide green eyes turbulent. “I find you perfectly insufferable,” she muttered.
Tony shrugged. “We all strive for perfection in some way. It’s a pleasure to know I’ve attained mine.”
That amused her, he could see, though she tried desperately to hide it.
He offered his arm, which she took without reluctance this time, and led her back. “You can laugh, you know,” he whispered loudly. “It won’t offend me or anyone else here to see you laugh. Go on, laugh. It was quite a clever comeback.”
“You are ruining it,” she retorted softly, fighting a smile.
Tony smiled down at her. “Well, that’s no surprise, is it?”
Georgie nodded thoughtfully, and then smiled back. “No, it really isn’t, Captain.”
Chapter Six
Assumptions are a delicate matter, particularly where people are concerned. You must never think you may safely assume to know someone’s mind or true feelings, for you may find that they just might surprise you. People are peculiar, and assumptions even more so.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 30 January 1818
From then on, Georgie was the one introducing Tony at various events, and it was astonishing how many people she seemed to know.
For a spinster, no capital S needed, her circles seemed to know no bounds. Card parties were now opportunities to widen his own circles. Balls were used to learn the names and faces of as many young ladies as possible. Musical evenings were spent mingling with influential individuals whose good opinion Tony would need to accomplish anything.
But it wasn’t Georgie alone. Charlotte took him around to meet more people, Izzy was nearly a fixture at his side, which ought to have started rumors, but oddly did not, and Grace seemed to always know when he needed rescue from an unfortunate social situation. Even Elinor had adopted him, though she was too young to be of much help anywhere. The only one who hadn’t taken up his banner with fervor was Prue, but at least she was no longer quaking when Tony came into the room.
Tony would consider that progress, and happily.
Despite becoming increasingly fond of his merry band of Spinsters, it was Georgie who intrigued him most. Not because of anything Lady Hetty may have said about her, as he was choosing to promptly forget all about it, but because Georgie seemed a mystery. She was a lovely woman in appearance, and seemed rather accomplished, though he couldn’t have said if she could draw or play any sort of instrument. But she was well-informed and intelligent without being a complete bluestocking, which he considered to be a mark of good judgment, whether or not it was considered a popular accomplishment. He’d always struggled to find something praiseworthy in the girls who had no ability to carry on a conversation that strayed from the topics of weather, fashion, or gossip.
Georgie rarely spoke of any of those things.
Not that they’d shared much conversation of significance. She seemed to be keeping him at arm’s length, keeping to superficial banter, which she was quite skilled at. But then, he’d known that from the first moment they met. She had wit and she had no reservation about letting anyone see it.
But not in public. He’d seen her behavior at the garden party with the other guests, and at two other small gatherings, and she had been all politeness. Not in any way simpering or missish, but in the way that might encourage interest and give one a good opinion of her. She behaved perfectly, it seemed, and one would struggle to find fault in her.
Yet she had no suitors. Rare was the sight of a man conversing with her, though one or two might be nearby. He hadn’t witnessed her behavior at a ball or dance, so he could not attest to the number of dance partners she had, but he would wager that she had few.
Why, he couldn’t have said.
He’d have danced with her, even if she might have criticized his every step. He was fairly certain he could convince his cousin to dance with her, although Hugh would probably flee to the opposite end of whatever room they were in to avoid it. Francis had more sense, and a wife to contend with. He was by far the easier man to sway.
Would that have been enough to spur others to do so?
Despite his new forays into Society and his new acquaintances, he had yet to truly discover what people thought of the Spinsters, as he was always in the company of the Spinsters when he was making said acquaintances. He was only now beginning to earn invitations on his own merit, and he was glad for it. He’d had enough of being forced into teas and card parties, making small talk for the sake of gaining admittance. He would rather take things at his own pace, and his too-social female acquaintances were draining him of energy and spirit.
He’d begged off attending a luncheon with Charlotte and Grace today in favor of waiting upon Francis, and he was grateful for the chance to be relaxed and in the company of a man who understood him.
Being surrounded by women was surprisingly intimidating.
But it seemed he had come too early in the day. Francis was not yet ready for him, so Tony paced the grand entryway at his leisure.
Sterling House had been in the family for generations, and it was rare that any changes were made to the interiors, aside from the color of rooms and arrangement of furniture. The woodwork around him was still as pristine as it had been the day it had been carved, and its intricate artistry fascinated Tony just as much now as it had when he was a boy. The tapestries spun tales of brave knights and bold heroes, echoed by the suits of armor on guard along the corridor.
It was a rather imposing setting, Tony considered as he wandered along. One without a familiarity with the family might have found themselves wondering about the utter masculine nature of it all, but the Sterlings had never shied away from that sort of thing. A historically male-dominated family would tend that way, especially when the wives usually favored the country houses to London.
Janet, on the other hand, adored London, so he anticipated having a very different sort of arrangement in the future, once she decided to take it up. Of course, Francis was so infatuated with his wife that he would let her do anything she wished.
Alas for their poor ancestors.
Tony grinned at the small, almost imperceptible mark on one of the suits of armor along the row. He and Francis had been exuberant knights in their imaginations once, and that mark was a reminder of a particularly good day, given that they hadn’t been caught, and no one had ever known how carried away they had been.
Escaping a deserved punishment was always something worthy of celebration.
“Don’t look at that too closely, someone will figure it out.”
Tony laughed and turned to see Francis descending the stairs, brushing at the sleeves of his jacket. “After all this time? I highly doubt that. You don’t even have the same
staff as was in those days.”
“‘Course I don’t,” Francis snorted. “I had to get rid of any potential witnesses, didn’t I?” He stepped forward and shook Tony’s hand hard. “How are you, Tony?”
“Well, thank you. I am sorry to have called so early, I thought…”
Francis cut him off with a swift nod. “Usually, I would have been up long before now, but I returned late from my business in Bath, so I am behind my time. Janet is still abed, but come, take breakfast with me.” He didn’t wait for Tony to reply and turned him towards the breakfast room.
Once he was seated, and a plate of food before him, Tony turned to his cousin. “Business in Bath? What business?”
Francis rolled his eyes as he chewed. “Janet’s sister has it in her head that we’re all going to come to Bath in the summer for some weeks. I went to see about lodgings and the like.”
Tony frowned at him, ignoring the food for a moment. “Francis, you’re a peer, and a man of fortune. You could have sent a man for that, or at least sent inquiries.”
“I needed to get out of London,” Francis explained with a shrug. “Why not see to the matter myself?”
“Is London so plaguing for you?” Tony asked with a laugh, helping himself to his food.
Francis gave him a look. “With my brother behaving like a fop with no manners and refusing to listen to reason? And a wife who is more social than I have ever been in my entire life? Yes, London plagues me. And I don’t see Bath being any better.”
His cousin’s consternation amused Tony and he fought a grin. “One might ask why you remain in London at all if it is so displeasing, and why you chose a social wife.”
“She chose me,” Francis pointed out, smiling to himself. “I simply chose not to argue the point. And I rather fancy keeping her pleased with me before she realizes that her choice of husband was a horrible mistake.”
“I could enlighten her, if you like.”
“You could also get out of my house before I crown you with a candlestick.”
The Merry Lives of Spinsters Page 8
