The Merry Lives of Spinsters

by Rebecca Connolly

  -The Spinster Chronicles, 1 July 1816

  “Oh, you’d like her very much, Charlotte. She’s got some spirit to her, despite living in such shoddy conditions.”

  “I don’t like the sound of it.”

  Georgie looked at her friend in shock. “Of Lady Edith?”

  Charlotte scowled. “No, not at all. Of her situation.”

  “I don’t like that either,” Grace murmured, setting down her drawing pencil. “Why should a woman of her status be living in such a place? And you said she lives in Cheapside?”

  Izzy nodded quickly but did not look away from her embroidery. “Lombard Street, I believe. Charming house from the exterior. A little plain, but quite suitable.”

  “Lombard Street.” Grace looked at Charlotte in utter bewilderment. “I don’t even know where Lombard Street is.”

  “You’re a Mayfair girl, dear,” Charlotte reassured her almost condescendingly. “You wouldn’t.”

  Georgie raised a brow as she imagined Tony doing, though she knew the impact would not be remotely the same. “Are you inclined to disapprove of those who live in Cheapside, Charlotte?”

  Charlotte’s cheeks flushed, a telltale sign, to be sure. “No,” she said in a tone that was not entirely convincing.

  Izzy laughed aloud as Georgie smiled.

  “Maybe a little,” Charlotte admitted reluctantly. “It’s simply not fashionable.”

  “Perhaps she cannot afford to be fashionable,” Prue suggested from the window, where she sat reading a novel, looking too pale.

  Charlotte frowned at that. “She’s the daughter of an earl, correct?”

  Georgie confirmed that with a nod.

  “A Scottish earl?”

  Georgie sighed and nodded again. “Don’t tell me you disapprove of that, too, Charlotte.”

  “I don’t disapprove in general!” Charlotte gasped. “I just wanted to clarify! Shouldn’t the daughter of an earl and the widow of a knight be in possession of some kind of fortune?”

  “Only if her father was a well-to-do earl,” Izzy commented with an edge to her voice that Georgie rarely heard. “And only if her husband happened to possess one himself and made a settlement for her in his will.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes and sank back against her chair. “I should never argue legalities with the sister of a barrister.”

  Izzy shrugged a shoulder and smiled, now back to herself, it seemed. “David never put his books away. I tended to read whatever I could.”

  “Georgie,” Grace broke in, her dark eyes concerned, “is Lady Edith really so badly off?”

  Georgie fought the urge to huff in irritation. She hadn’t interrogated the woman, for heaven’s sake, she only knew what she had seen. It had been a poorer house than she had expected, not because it was in Cheapside, where a great many people of good character lived, but because of the conditions of the house itself. And she hadn’t meant for her friends to pounce on that small detail so heartily. She’d only brought it up to illustrate Lady Edith’s need for friends and perhaps their aid, but not in a monetary fashion.

  Lord knew she had little enough to spare, and Izzy and Prue were only slightly better. Charlotte and Grace had come into their majority, but their fathers still maintained much of their control. It was not for them to offer funds to a woman such as Lady Edith, and she did not think Lady Edith would have appreciated the gesture.

  One’s pride was a fickle thing in that respect.

  “I don’t know,” Georgie finally admitted. “It’s entirely possible that they hadn’t had time to prepare it properly. She said she’d only recently arrived, and her clothing was in very good condition. She’s barely out of mourning, so it may not be the latest fashion, but the quality was there. I would hate to judge a woman purely on the state of her house when she has obviously suffered a loss and has no friends to help her recover from it.”

  Charlotte winced at the harsher tone Georgie had taken on by the end, and Grace wrinkled up her nose.

  “Did she seem inclined to join us?” Prue asked, her book now open in her lap as she watched the rest of them.

  “I didn’t explain it fully.” Georgie offered Prue a small smile. “I think she might take your companionship better than mine, Prue.”

  “Oh,” Grace moaned sympathetically, “is she shy? Poor woman, I couldn’t possibly imagine being in her situation and not in a position to make friends easily.”

  Izzy chuckled softly. “I didn’t get the opinion that she was particularly shy as much as reserved. Nor did she seem to need any sympathy. She was perfectly comfortable and at ease, but soft-spoken and gentle. I liked her immensely.”

  “That doesn’t say a single thing, Izzy,” Charlotte scoffed. “You like everybody immensely.”

  “Not true!” Izzy protested.

  “It’s true,” they all replied as one.

  Izzy scowled and muttered under her breath unintelligibly.

  “The point is,” Georgie said, pulling the conversation back, “I think we should adopt Lady Edith. Perhaps not as a Spinster, given her situation, but as our friend. That’s not an unreasonable request, is it?”

  The others looked at her in varying levels of thought.

  “I don’t kn-know that I could call on her myself,” Prue replied hesitantly. “Not without an invitation. And Mother would never let me have someone come to the house to see me that wasn’t a suitor or heiress.”

  “Yes, I wondered why I could come but not Izzy,” Charlotte mused aloud.

  Prue’s cheeks flamed, but she smiled sheepishly. “Mother likes you, Charlotte.”

  Charlotte looked mildly disgusted by that. “That is the worst thing you have ever said to me, Prudence Westfall, and I demand you take it back.”

  Prue giggled and returned her gaze to Georgie. “I am happy to be her friend, if she will have me.”

  “Who wouldn’t have you as their friend?” Grace soothed. “You’re the best of every one of us.”

  Prue gave her an utterly bewildered look. “I think you’ve just confused me for you, Grace.”

  Charlotte barked a laugh while the rest of them just snickered. “Hear, hear!”

  “Notice she didn’t say you,” Grace reminded her.

  “No, and why would she?” Charlotte retorted. She rubbed her hands together and looked back to Georgie. “What does Tony have to say about this?”

  His name seemed to light up Georgie’s heart, sending a warm sensation cascading down the length of her, and it was all she could do to avoid the guilt washing over her face.

  Guilt that the mention of him had that effect on her.

  Guilt that the last three days had been spent thinking of little but him.

  Guilt that her friends had no idea what she was thinking, feeling, or dreaming.

  And most of all, guilt that she had been listening for his steps in the corridor with every beat of her heart, more than she had ever wished for anything in her life.

  She had been overcome with madness, and giddiness, and she hadn’t even seen him since that night.

  It was entirely possible that he regretted it.

  But she wouldn’t.

  She couldn’t.

  “Georgie?”

  She jerked at her cousin’s voice and looked around. “What?”

  “Goodness,” Grace murmured, twirling a drawing pencil between her fingers. “Where were you just now?”

  She was not answering that question truthfully. Georgie smiled with only a hint of guilt, though not for what she was about to say. “Lost in thought, I suppose. Trying to think of how to help Lady Edith rejoin Society without overwhelming her.”

  “And I will repeat my question,” Charlotte huffed, apparently believing her. “What does Tony have to say about this?”

  “What do I have to say about what?”

  Georgie’s heart lodged itself in her throat and breathing was suddenly a trifle difficult, as her throat constricted around it.

  Tony stood in the doorway to the
drawing room, looking somehow handsomer than she had ever seen him despite his clothing being fairly ordinary for a gentleman. His hat and gloves had been removed, and he was brushing down the back of his hair absently. She’d wager that was a habit of his. She tended to pat her hair when she removed a bonnet to ensure it was still in place, so it would only follow that he would do something similar.

  He’d shaved this morning, but there was a very faint shadow on the lower part of his face. Had it always been there? His hair was so dark, it was probably never completely gone even with the closest shave. It was odd, but she found she liked that very much. It made Tony seem somehow less of a perfect gentleman and more human.

  Yet he was a perfect gentleman.

  It was too much, having him here and looking so well. She couldn’t bear it, knowing they couldn’t speak in privacy, knowing she couldn’t let the air between them fill with unspoken words and unidentified feelings until she could barely breathe.

  Knowing she couldn’t kiss him.

  Oh, she desperately wanted to kiss him.

  But she settled for rising with the others, trying in vain to swallow, and curtseying with all due politeness.

  It had never felt more preposterous in her entire life.

  “Lady Edith, Tony,” Charlotte went on, gesturing for him to have a seat near her.

  Georgie almost bared her teeth at that.

  And Tony, that idiot, did so, not even glancing in Georgie’s direction.

  Cad.

  “I’ve never met her,” Tony admitted with his usual carefree air. “I only had her name from Lieutenant Henshaw.”

  Charlotte frowned, her eyes flicking to Georgie briefly. “And what does Lieutenant Henshaw say about Lady Edith?”

  Tony grunted, which Georgie interpreted to be an indication of some distress.

  Good.

  “As far as I know,” Tony said carefully, “he has never met her either.”

  Charlotte blinked, staring at him without words.

  That wasn’t good.

  “So you sent Georgie and Izzy out to meet a woman that you knew nothing about,” Charlotte finally forced out, her hands fisting in her skirts, “on the word of a man you know, who also knows nothing about this woman, because you both know that she is unmarried and you happen to know a group of unmarried women?”

  Georgie clamped down on her lips hard.

  Sometimes Charlotte truly was an utter delight.

  Tony seemed to flinch, though his expression barely changed. “No, Charlotte,” he said calmly, “I did not.”

  She frowned at that. “You didn’t?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I did not.”

  Charlotte blinked again, then turned to Georgie with a furrowed brow. “You told me he was the one who gave you Lady Edith’s name!”

  Georgie opened her mouth to respond, but Tony answered for her.

  “I did.”

  Charlotte whirled back around. “What? Tony, you just said…”

  “I didn’t send anybody anywhere,” he overrode firmly. “My friend, Lieutenant Henshaw, told me of a young widow recently come to London. He has made a promise to her brother, whom he met in the army, that he would look after her here. He knew, as I did, that doing so would be impossible without some feminine aid, unless he wished to marry her. As he did not know her, nor her tastes, he could not assume to do so while remaining a gentleman.”

  “Very sensible,” Grace praised, having returned to her drawing, but listening in. “Speaks highly of the lieutenant, I think.”

  Tony nodded at her words, though she wouldn’t see it. “Lieutenant Henshaw had been made aware that I had some female friends in London and asked if I might pass Lady Edith’s name along, in the hopes that they might help him see to her wellbeing and perhaps even become her friends. I agreed to do this, and I did so.”

  Charlotte stared at him again, her jaw tightening. Then she rolled her eyes and groaned dramatically. “Oh, very well, it is a sound plan, and I cannot find any fault in it.”

  “Thank you,” Tony replied with a smile.

  Charlotte glared at him. “No, that praise was for Lieutenant Henshaw. You had one task, and you did it. Hurrah for you.”

  Georgie almost laughed aloud, which would have been entirely inappropriate, even though Izzy and Grace snickered a little. She couldn’t do that, though. Her laughter wouldn’t do anything to add to the situation except negatively, and she couldn’t let that happen.

  She wouldn’t have been laughing for the same reasons anyway.

  Tony shook his head, smiling in a way that flipped Georgie’s stomach over. “Charlotte, what do you object to? That I value the Spinsters so highly that I immediately acted on the information of my friend? Or that I didn’t bring it to you first?”

  Now Georgie had to laugh a little. It was too perfect a reversal of argument, and Charlotte deserved every bit of it.

  Tony was too clever and too witty, and she tended to forget that in the midst of her recent rose-colored dreaming of him.

  Charlotte sniffed haughtily and turned away from him, waving a hand. “I am not dignifying that with an answer. Go away now, I don’t want you sitting here after all.”

  He didn’t seem at all put off by that and shrugged, rising from the chair. “As you wish, Miss Wright.” He looked around the room, then looked at Izzy.

  Not Georgie.

  “No Elinor today?” he asked, hands resting on his hips.

  “She’s taking tea with her sister,” Izzy told him with a smile.

  “Although why Mrs. High and Mighty Emma Partlowe can’t come take tea with we low spinsters who were once her friends…” Charlotte muttered widening her eyes.

  Grace groaned, dropping her pencil and turning in her chair to look at Charlotte. “You know Mr. Partlowe thinks we’re all hoydens and wishes his wife well away from our influence. It’s not Emma’s fault.”

  “She married a man who disapproves of us,” Charlotte shot back. “It is her fault. No man is worth it if he restricts the friends of his wife.”

  “Georgie’s still accepted,” Izzy reminded her, “and he’s very polite to us in Society.”

  Charlotte turned her dark, flashing eyes to Izzy. “Oh, that’s very good of him, isn’t it?” she drawled sarcastically. “So considerate to not give us all the cut direct in front of everyone, when we’re the ones who brought his wife to his attention.”

  Izzy had no response for that but to shrug a shoulder and go back to her embroidery, which was far better than anything Georgie could have managed.

  “Worst decision we’ve ever made,” Charlotte grumbled to herself.

  “Partlowe’s not such a bad sort,” Tony offered, looking down at her. “I was at school with him, remember?”

  “Which says nothing good about you, Tony Sterling.”

  Prue sighed softly and closed her book with a snap. “Don’t bother trying, Tony,” she told him without a hint of a stammer. “Arguing with Charlotte won’t get you anywhere but in a right muddle, and there’s no getting out of it.”

  Georgie looked over at her in shock, as did everybody else.

  It was the first time in her recollection that Prue had said anything more than four syllables to Tony, without stammering, and using his name.

  His response would be crucial.

  Georgie watched him now, begging him to do it right.

  She could see how delighted he was, though he kept it in check. “I suppose you’re right, Prue,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “But you can’t blame me for trying, can you?”

  Georgie exhaled slowly with relief as Prue smiled at him. “No, indeed,” Prue replied. “She’s so engaging, one cannot help but be tempted.”

  Charlotte gaped at her, then at Tony, then back at Prue. “I’m right here,” she managed, though without any of the outrage she had intended.

  “And we’re so glad you are,” Izzy broke in with a giggle, loving the exchange.

  Georgie shook her head at the lot of the
m. They were certainly a silly group of girls, and Tony did not exactly bring them up to any higher standards than what they had held before. But he did add a certain something that made them more than what they had been. More complete, perhaps, and well-rounded.

  Balanced. That’s what it was; he brought balance to their group.

  It was a satisfying feeling, to be sure, though at the moment she felt anything but balanced herself.

  He wasn’t looking at her. He wasn’t addressing her. She might not have even been here for all the attention he was paying her. It was bound to be obvious soon. He and Georgie always sparred verbally when the group assembled, it was just the natural way of things. But without engaging in conversation, they couldn’t hope to maintain a sense of normalcy.

  She could say something, she supposed. He might have responded, and then all would be well.

  But what if he didn’t?

  What if he deliberately ignored her?

  No, that would make things all the more obvious and draw attention to his behavior towards her. That would raise all sorts of questions, and then the truth would come out, and everybody would be horrified. After they lost Emma to marriage, there had been a sense of foreboding about them.

  They all wanted to marry, but they didn’t want things to change.

  It was a complicated paradox.

  If they admitted what had passed between them, and Tony had to leave because of it, they would all resent Georgie and feel the loss keenly.

  Perhaps they could go back to the way things had been. Before that night at the ball, when they had all simply been friends, when everything had been right.

  Georgie looked at Tony briefly as he and Grace discussed her drawing, which he seemed pleased by. She didn’t want things to go back. She wanted things to go forward.

  The trouble was that she didn’t know what going forward meant.

  And the anxiety was eating at her.

  She couldn’t stay here and endure his presence without knowing what was going to happen or why he was ignoring her, couldn’t bear his warmth for the others and not for her.