The Merry Lives of Spinsters

by Rebecca Connolly

  Tony looked at Morton, who shrugged helplessly, and at Francis, who only made a face. He returned his attention to Henshaw. “How do you know her? Personal interest?”

  “Protective interest,” Henshaw corrected, blue eyes flashing. “I met her brother doing some training with the Highlanders. He asked if I might look after her when I returned.”

  “Scottish girl?” Tony was surprised by that, as it was hardly a common thing to have a Scottish woman in London these days. “And you agreed?”

  Henshaw glared. “He knew I had many sisters. He asked me to do so, brother to brother. I take that seriously.”

  Morton seemed to consider that, then turned to Tony, his disheveled dark hair disheveling further. “I would, too, for my sister.”

  “So would I,” Francis added softly, surprising him. Francis might not mention it often, but he was remarkably protective of Alice. There were more than ten years between them, but they were unusually close. Had she not chosen to spend a year abroad, she would have been flitting about with the other young women of the Season, no doubt being carefully guarded by one or both of her brothers at every turn.

  He faintly wondered how Francis would feel about the Spinsters had Alice been about.

  Tony nodded at his friend, smiling a little. “I’ll see what I can do. They may not take my suggestion to heart, but if there is a young woman in need of friends and associates, I think they just might. Tell me her name, and I’ll see to it.”

  He wasn’t exactly in the mood for the theater again, not after the week he’d had, but he had promised to be there, and to attend the ball at Charlotte’s afterwards.

  There was no refusing the Spinsters when they set their mind to something.

  Besides, it would be better for him to tell Georgie exactly what he could before he forgot it all or had a chance to think too much on it. And he now had a task for her to see to as well, and he thought she might need the diversion, given what he had to tell her.

  It was destined to be an unpleasant night, and he hadn’t even seen the play yet.

  But at least he would see Georgie and the others, and there was some comfort in that.

  Oh, he had seen them from time to time at various events, as they really were invited to many things individually, but he had kept his distance. None of them had said anything about it, so he assumed that Georgie had told them, at least in part, what he was doing.

  Or she’d flat out lied to them all.

  He could never be sure with Georgie.

  He hid a yawn behind a gloved hand, then moved into the main of the theater. He hadn’t bothered securing a box or anything of the sort. His cousins had begged off but would attend the ball later. He fully intended to snooze during the bulk of the show in the hopes that it would allow him some energy for the ball.

  But for now, he would smile and nod at all who acknowledged him, making all manner of small talk, and generally being a congenial gentleman, as his reputation had indicated he was. If word was getting out that he was associated with the Spinsters in some way, he would need to present a persona that was above reproach. The perfect gentleman, a warm acquaintance, and a good sport, if it came down to it; proper and respectable at all times.

  Surely he could manage that.

  “Tony!” Charlotte’s voice called out to him.

  He bit back a groan.

  So much for proper and respectable.

  He turned to face her, bowing politely. “Miss Wright.”

  She grinned at him, her dimple making an appearance, and winked. “Don’t think me forward. I call everybody by their first name in public, so I might as well do the same with you.”

  “If you like,” he replied, nodding once. “You look lovely, Charlotte.”

  She truly did, in a gown of deep pink that heightened her rosy complexion and made her dark hair and eyes richer. The cut was bold, but not to the extreme. It was very flattering, and very Charlotte.

  Charlotte beamed up at him. “For that, Captain Sterling, I shall take your arm. Come and sit in the box with us.”

  He could not bear the thought of enduring more than a quarter of an hour with her bevy of suitors vying for her attention. He would not last the night if he did.

  “Charlotte…”

  “We’re all going to be in there,” she overrode. “My parents, Izzy, Prue, my brother, Mrs. Lambert, Georgie…”

  “Really?” he said with interest, his ears perking up.

  She gave him an odd look, which shouldn’t surprise him. He practically jumped at every mention of Georgie’s name now, and he could not understand why.

  “I would have thought your admirers would want to be close to you this evening,” Tony explained, giving her a knowing quirk of a brow.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Lord, no. I get enough of them at everything else, I want to spend the evening with my friends.”

  Tony chuckled and inclined his head at her. “I am privileged to be included in the group.”

  “Charles will probably want to talk to you the entire time,” Charlotte warned him. “He is dreading the number of females in the box, none of them of any interest to him.”

  “That shows what an idiot he is, if you’ll forgive me.”

  “I do.” She grinned up at him without shame. “This is why I like you, Tony. A proper sense of humor.”

  He shook his head with a laugh. “Thank you, I think. Why were you alone when you found me, Charlotte? Surely you weren’t wandering about alone.”

  “And what if I was?” she demanded, looking perturbed. “I am an independent woman!”

  “Charlotte.”

  She scowled and waved a hand at a man in eveningwear nearby. “Michael followed me.”

  “And he is…?” Tony asked, not sure he liked the idea of her being followed.

  “Old friend. Very old. Practically my brother.”

  But not her brother. No, he didn’t like that one bit. “And why was he following you?”

  Charlotte huffed and frowned at him. “Because I wouldn’t let him escort me properly, now are you going to be my nanny?”

  Tony raised his hands in surrender and led her to the box, Michael following behind yet again. They arrived and heard sounds of jubilation from the girls. Even Prue seemed delighted to see him, and he found a great comfort in that.

  “Mr. Wright, Mrs. Wright,” Tony said as he bowed to them. “A pleasure to see you both. I hope you don’t mind my joining you, Charlotte insisted when she saw me just now.”

  “Not at all, not at all,” Mr. Wright exclaimed. “The more the merrier! Michael, find another chair, will you?”

  Michael nodded without speaking, then left the box again.

  Remembering his duties, Tony turned to bow to Mrs. Lambert. “Mrs. Lambert, what a pleasure to see you again.”

  She didn’t look entirely convinced, but she smiled politely. “Captain.” Her eyes flicked to Izzy, who had only waved at him and was now talking with Prue again.

  Tony greeted Charlotte’s brother with a handshake, but he was preoccupied arguing with his sister, so paid Tony little mind, which suited him well enough.

  “You look rather ill,” came Georgie’s voice in her usual straightforward manner.

  He turned to look at her and found himself suddenly without words or breath.

  However he had imagined her in his mind over the last week, it had not been remotely like this. She was an absolute vision in a cream muslin with a pale green panel extending from the square bodice, gathered at her waist, and falling the length of the dress. Elegant gold embroidery fashioned vines and flowers along the bodice, and the green ribbon in her hair bore a similar embroidery. Her eyes seemed somehow more green, more vibrant thus, and her hair was fairer than gold, but only just.

  “You look extraordinary,” he replied, somehow managing the breath to say it, though his sense returned to him the moment the words escaped. If only his control had done the same.

  Georgie’s brows rose in surprise
, but her lips curved into a small smile that teased at his heart. “Why, thank you, Tony.” Her brow puckered, and her smile turned almost coy. “You did mean that as a compliment, yes?”

  “Yes,” he rasped, nodding fervently. “I did.”

  Her smile grew, and she gestured to the seat beside hers. “Sit here, if you like.”

  He did like, and he did so. It was a trifle difficult to see the stage from behind Mrs. Lambert, but he did not mind that much.

  “This way you can fall asleep without offending anyone,” Georgie whispered, holding her fan up to shield their conversation.

  Tony smiled as he looked at her, still somewhat blinded by her stunning beauty. “Is it that obvious?”

  She shrugged a little. “Not wildly, but I know you, and I’ve never seen you look so fatigued. Trouble?”

  He shook his head at once. “No. Gossip.”

  Georgie wrinkled up her nose at that. “I don’t like the sound of that. Do you have much to report?”

  He nodded, unable to stop looking at her.

  She heaved a little sigh. “Very well. Don’t tell me now. Wait until the ball. We will probably be less likely to be overheard there.”

  Michael returned to the box then with another chair and set it down beside Charles Wright and began conversing quietly with him.

  Tony watched for a moment, then leaned closer to Georgie. “Who is Michael?”

  She looked over, then back to him, trying not to grin. “That is Michael Sandford. He was at the Galbraith’s garden party, remember?” At his shake of the head, she smiled again. “He holds the distinction of being the first person to propose to Charlotte.”

  That was not what Tony had expected to hear and he looked back to the man. “And he is still here?”

  Georgie nodded, giggling just a little bit. “He is still here. Can’t stay away, even though Charlotte doesn’t see him romantically at all. And he has never courted anyone else. Isn’t that something?”

  It certainly was, though he wasn’t sure if it were something mad or something admirable.

  Tony looked at Georgie with a fond smile. “How do you know so much?”

  Her smile turned sly as she looked back at him. “Being a spinster has some advantages, one of which is knowing far more than anybody thinks about things nobody knows about.”

  He couldn’t keep his smile from turning to a full-on grin as he stared at her. “I am very impressed, Miss Allen. What else can you tell me about the members of Society?”

  Georgie laughed, then looked towards the stage. “So much. So very much. But don’t you want to spend the time here sleeping, Captain Sterling?”

  As she glanced back at him, Tony shook his head slowly, smiling rather stupidly. “Not anymore, I don’t.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The most extraordinary things can happen at balls. Whether they be good or bad is entirely up to the parties involved. And whether or not those things have witnesses.

  -The Spinster Chronicles, 2 April 1816

  Being profoundly labeled a spinster by all who knew her didn’t preclude Georgie from deriving pleasure from certain things just as she had when she was first out.

  Attending a ball was one such thing.

  She’d always thrilled with the excitement of it, despite the fact that she rarely danced anymore, particularly at a ball as fine as one held by the Wrights. They were among the wealthiest, most influential members of Society, and all of London begged for an invitation to anything they hosted. The Wrights were adored by most, revered by some, and widely regarded as some of the friendliest, most delightful people that had ever graced high Society.

  Georgie could only be grateful to be on such good terms with them as to always be assured of her own invitation.

  The ball tonight did not disappoint.

  The Wright’s ballroom, usually a very elegant room on its own merits, had been transformed into what had to be a glimpse of heaven itself. Candles dotted every chandelier and sconce, swaths of sheer fabric were elegantly draped along the walls, and dozens of flowers had been brought into the room, all of them pale shades and blossoming brilliantly. Charlotte had warned them that her mother had taken things to the extreme, but never had Georgie imagined anything so ethereal.

  Mrs. Wright had outdone herself, that was certain.

  Georgie release a breath she’d forgotten she held and had to smile.

  “My sentiments exactly.”

  She glanced over at Tony, who was escorting her as well as Izzy into the ballroom. They had just finished greeting the Wrights at the entrance, which had seemed superfluous, as they had just been at the theater together, but it was the custom, so they followed along.

  “What?” Georgie asked him, curious as to what he thought she was feeling.

  He looked down at her, his dark eyes warmer in the light of the candles, and his mouth curved on one side. “This room. These people. This night. It’s all rather breathtaking, isn’t it?”

  “It’s perfectly magical,” Izzy exclaimed, almost dancing on the other side of Tony. “Oh, it’s just lovely! Have you ever seen anything so lovely?”

  “No, I have not,” Tony replied.

  But he had not been looking at the room, as Izzy had been.

  He was still looking at Georgie.

  Oh, lord…

  Georgie swallowed hastily, looking around for any sort of distraction while her mind reeled at the implications. Something had come over him tonight, and she wasn’t sure what it was. He stared a great deal, and smiled even more, though not with the same teasing edge she had grown accustomed to. Oh, they had talked and laughed a great deal at the theater as she had imparted some of her best information concerning particular members of Society, and his responses had been just as sharp and witty as before.

  But something was different. He was different.

  And yet…

  “Oh!” Izzy suddenly cried, blissfully unaware of everything going on beside her. “There is Grace! Oh, doesn’t she look marvelous? Tony, thank you for escorting me, but I am going to see her now.”

  “Of course, Izzy. Save one of your dances for me, will you?” he asked, finally turning to her.

  Georgie didn’t need to look to know her cousin would be beaming up at him for that.

  “You could have your pick of the lot, Tony,” Izzy said with a giggle. “Just say the word, and the dance is yours.”

  She departed then, and Georgie was left to be escorted by Tony alone, which, oddly enough, did not bother her in the least.

  “What about you, Georgie?” Tony asked, his voice almost lost amidst the hum of voices around them and the musicians that had begun to play.

  She waved at Prue, who looked much better tonight than she had at the last ball. Her mother had fallen ill, which everyone was quite relieved about, and Prue looked very pretty in a pale blue gown. She was such a tiny creature, and delicate in more ways than one, but the smile on her face this evening brought her to life in a charming way. She likely wouldn’t dance, but she would keep Lady Hetty company, and she did so love the music.

  If only…

  “Georgie.”

  She jerked to look at Tony, who was giving her a too-polite smile. “Yes?”

  “Will you dance this evening?” He raised a quick brow, and she wondered at the equally too-polite tone in his voice.

  “If I am asked,” she replied slowly as she attempted to surreptitiously determine the cause of his behavior. But no one was looking at them, and they were not speaking loudly enough for those nearby to overhear. “I am a touch out of practice.”

  “No one dances with you?”

  Georgie shook her head, then inclined it with a warm smile as she caught sight of Lady Hetty, who winked boldly at her. “No, they fear what I will do to them.”

  Tony chortled a little and seemed to straighten up. “I’m not afraid. I will dance with you.”

  “My hero,” she muttered blandly. “Don’t put yourself out.”

  “Trust m
e, Georgie,” he replied with more warmth than she anticipated. “Dancing with you would not put me out in the slightest. I rather think I will ask you.”

  She glanced up at him with narrowed eyes. “Now?”

  Tony returned her look, then let a slow smile spread across his face, which somehow stirred an equally warm sensation to slowly course through her. “Not now. When you least expect it.”

  Georgie’s breath caught in her throat and she wrenched her gaze back to the safety of the mingling guests. It was too much. She was losing her mind and had somehow taken leave of her senses. She was not this silly sort of creature, always blushing and agitated. She could not be so fluttery when she was on the arm of the handsomest man in the entire room. Alone.

  Her heart lurched quite forcefully at that thought.

  Oh, that was enough, now! Tony was a friend of hers, and only recently so. He was a very good man, and an excellent companion, given his wit and intellect. He was not a man that ought to possess her thoughts so completely as he seemed to be doing, and she ought not to dwell on the current changes in him with such wonder. He was exhausted, that was all. She had given him an assignment and he had taken it up with great energy. He was undoubtedly unaware of the way his words sounded, or how his behavior could be portrayed.

  There was absolutely no reason for him to be treating her in any respect other than that of a good friend.

  That was all.

  “Come, Georgie,” Tony said suddenly, his tone markedly brighter than it had been all night. “I want to introduce you to my cousin.”

  Georgie’s heels began to dig into the ground as she whipped her head around to stare at him in horror. “What?”

  He nodded quickly, smiling with all the excitement of a little boy. “He asked to be introduced to you this evening.”

  “But… but…” she stammered, wondering why her feet were still moving when she expressly bade them to stop. “Why would he want to be introduced to me?”

  Tony slid a sardonic glance her way. “Because he knows I know you.”

  “Tony!” She huffed in irritation and tried to find her words, though her throat suddenly burned in distress. “That doesn’t mean a blasted thing! Loads of people know you know me, and they…”