Love Birds: The Complete Collection

by Ruth J. Hartman

  And what was he to do about Georgiana?

  A note. He must send a note post haste as he could not in any way leave, things being as they were. Perhaps after the physician examined her and things were well, Percy could finally slip away.

  Barrington, come home. I have need of you!

  The next hour was miserably spent closeted in the parlor with the Loftons and the dowager moaning and wailing. Percy had grown so warm in the room that he’d actually loosened his cravat. Not that he cared about his appearance at this point, and the Loftons were extended family, after all. But Percy found his entire body wreathed in perspiration from the stress of the whole situation of the dowager thinking him to be someone he was not.

  Finally, thankfully, the physician arrived. He appeared to be young, nearly too young for the post. But Percy was in a tight spot, and he’d take whomever he could get.

  Dr. Hervey was shown into the parlor. With the physician’s announcement that the room should be cleared, Percy heaved a sigh of relief. He could at least now step away from—

  “Wait!” The dowager reached out her hand. “I need you to stay.”

  Oh the horror. Percy glanced at the Loftons who, though frowning, nodded and stepped into the hall.

  Why? Why me? Percy stayed but didn’t take the dowager’s hand, though she held it out in his direction until it had to have been obvious he wasn’t going to abide by her wish.

  The physician gave him a sharp look, as if Percy had committed some treacherous crime.

  “I’ll be right over here.” Percy slumped down in a straight-backed chair, glad to be off of his feet and at least a small distance away from the annoying woman.

  The physician opened his bag and removed several items. With interest, Percy eyed them. They resembled the ones their usual man used. Perhaps he’d misjudged Dr. Hervey.

  Low mumblings came from the patient and caregiver, so low that Percy couldn’t hear. Not that he cared. He stood and stretched then wandered to a nearby window for a change of scenery.

  Oh, Georgiana…

  Events had unfolded so quickly, Percy hadn’t even gotten the chance to send her a note. What must she think? That he’d ravish her in her parlor one day then not bother to correspond the next, as if once sated, he was content to let her go?

  He scrubbed his face with his hand. What a terrible set of circumstances he’d been drawn into.

  “Sir?”

  Percy turned his head at the physician’s voice. “Yes?”

  “After my examination and, er, discussion with the lady, it’s my professional opinion that she must stay here until her head injury has lessened enough for her to travel home.”

  “Oh… I see. And… when might we expect that to be?”

  “I really can’t say.”

  Ah. Of course you can’t.

  Dr. Hervey stepped up next to him and whispered, “Since you are her long-lost husband—”

  “What?”

  The physician raised one eyebrow. “It’s her claim.”

  “It isn’t true!”

  He put one hand on Percy’s arm. Was he trying to offer comfort? Or condolence? “Be it true or not, the lady believes that’s your identity. It would be disastrous to try to tell her otherwise at this point. I’m… uh, quite worried for her health, physically and emotionally.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that I must pretend to be this woman’s husband because she is delusional?”

  “For the sake her health, I am. You must give her constant assurance of your devotion and love. Do not do or say anything to her or anyone else that might get word to her of something upsetting. Otherwise…” With another pat on Percy’s shoulder, the physician left.

  As Percy stood at his place by the window, the Loftons rushed in from the hall. Now to covey to Conrad that his mother thought Percy was her husband.

  Hoorah… the joy continues.

  Chapter Eight

  A knock on Georgiana’s door was the only thing that could have dragged her attention from her bedroom window. She’d been standing there staring at the drive for the better part of the day. “Come in.”

  Mary entered and handed her a note. Georgiana’s heart sped up. Was it from Percy?

  Barely waiting for her maid to curtsey and leave the room, Georgiana quickly opened the paper.

  My dear Lady Peregrine,

  Please try to forgive the unforgiveable. I’ve been detained at my home since early today and just now have had the opportunity to send you correspondence. There’s been an accident.

  Georgiana gasped

  Please remain calm. I am fine as are the members of my household.

  She smiled. How had he known she would react right at that moment? Relief shot through her to know that Percy was unharmed.

  Extended family, the Loftons, whom you met, paid an unexpected call. With them, was Lord Lofton’s mother.

  Her? At Percy’s home again?

  Somehow, I’m still not sure how it all happened, the dowager stumbled and struck her head. The physician has confined her to stay here for an undetermined amount of time until she’s well enough to travel.

  There are other extenuating circumstances that I don’t feel at liberty to go into in a note. I shall be pleased to explain to you when I see you next.

  Yours most affectionately,

  Percy.

  Georgiana bit her lower lip. While the note gave explanation as to why Percy hadn’t come for a visit today, he did not say when they would meet again. She read the note a second time to make sure she hadn’t missed something. No. There was no mention of a day or time when he would return to her.

  And what circumstances had he alluded to? It all sounded very secretive and mysterious. What in the world was going on over there, and why couldn’t Percy tell her when he could see her again?

  When Georgiana met the Loftons, Percy hadn’t acted as if he was all that well acquainted with the dowager. What could possibly be the reason for him to have to remain at the house simply because that woman had been injured? Why couldn’t his nephew and niece stay with the woman?

  Something wasn’t right. She could feel it in her stomach just as surely as a willow warbler knew when she was with egg. But what could Georgiana do about it?

  Georgiana, you’re not getting any younger.

  She had finally after all these years of loneliness found a man who not only excited her but warmed her heart. She’d not be so quick to let him go. Grabbing her hat, pelisse, and reticule, she went out to hire a hackney coach to take her to the Radcliff estate.

  Yes, it mortified her to show up at his abode in a rented carriage, but at this point, if she wanted to see him, she had no choice. And she did want to see him. Very badly.

  As she sat in the carriage, alone, she fiddled with her clothing, trying to get it just right. Hat tilted slightly to the left. Skirt smoothed over her legs. Pelisse laying straight and unwrinkled over her dress.

  Why was she so nervous? Percy’s note hadn’t said anything untoward. Nothing that should have put her off. Yet…

  The thought of that woman, the dowager, being in the same place where Percy resided had Georgiana’s insides in an uproar. The dowager had been positively beastly to her at the Radcliff’s picnic. And for what? Why would she be so outright rude to someone she’d never even met?

  Had the dowager a tendre for Percy?

  Squeezing her hands into fists, she tried to ward off the thought. Her boots tapped against the carriage floor, impatient for the horses to get her to her destination before it was too late.

  Too late for what?

  She knew not. But there was something. Definitely something.

  As soon as the hackney delivered her to the Radcliff’s residence, the jarvey asked if she’d like him to wait. Her first impulse was to tell him no. But what if something more was going on? Could it be that once she found out, she wouldn’t want to stay?

  She’d surely know soon enough whether or not she would need to leave or stay. “W
ait please. I’ll be out in a few minutes to let you know either way.”

  “Very good, my lady.”

  Georgiana held her head high and marched up to the front door. A footman allowed her entrance. The first thing she noticed was a kind of keening wail coming from somewhere to her left.

  Whatever could be making that noise? Had a cow wandered into the house and was having her calf? Georgiana listened closer. No, that chilling screech was made by a human. A shiver ran up her back. I have got to stop reading those horror books at bedtime!

  The footman who had opened the door for her pivoted and raced down the hall. What odd behavior. Was he headed to the origin of the outburst?

  Several voices were raised. It was coming from the room the footman had just entered. Curiosity grabbed a hold and practically dragged her toward the sound. Far be it from her to let an interesting event pass by without her seeing it for herself.

  She’d never been accused of being a slave to formality anyway. With determined steps, she followed the path the footman had taken. Male voices reached her. Was one of them—

  “Georgiana?” Percy rushed out of the room, nearly knocking her to the floor. He grasped her by her upper arms to help steady her. “What are you doing here?” He glanced over his shoulder into the room and back.

  “What am I…” That wasn’t a very nice greeting.

  He grabbed her shoulders, trying to angle her back around. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Whyever not? When I was here just a couple of days ago, your nephew and niece told me I was welcome anytime. Since when does anytime not mean any time?”

  He wiped perspiration from his forehead. Why was he sweating? It wasn’t hot in the house. “Did you not receive my note?”

  “The one that left me wondering more than I had before I read it? Yes. You made this whatever it is that’s going on sound quite mysterious.”

  He laughed, but she could tell it wasn’t genuine. Was it more nervous? “Oh, no… you’re just being… silly.”

  “Pardon?”

  Footsteps shuffled behind Percy and Lord Lofton appeared. His eyes widened when he saw Georgiana, but he recovered quickly and inclined his head. “Good day to you, Lady Ollerton.”

  “And to you, my lord.”

  He leaned over to Percy and whispered something in his ear. Georgiana tried very hard to hear but it was spoken too low. Blast.

  “Darling? Where are you?” A woman’s voice. Was that… the dowager?

  Percy’s face paled. “I’m afraid, Georgiana… I must go.”

  “Go where?”

  He swallowed. It was then she noticed he wore no cravat. How odd. “I… I’m expected. In there. Right now.”

  “Expected by whom?”

  “Darling?” The dowager’s voice had developed a whine. “Please. I’m lonely.”

  “I really must go,” said Percy. “Please excuse—”

  Georgiana grabbed his arm as realization dawned. “Is she referring to… you?”

  “I’ll explain everything later. I promise.”

  She blinked. Now that the men had gone back into the room, she could see it was indeed the dowager who reclined on the settee. In her tightly clutched hand was a man’s cravat.

  And right before Georgiana’s eyes, though she had to tell herself what she witnessed was real, Percy knelt down next to the settee and took the woman’s hand in his. But even that couldn’t compare to what he said.

  “Of course I still love you, my darling Miriam.”

  Georgiana turned and fled from the house.

  Chapter Nine

  Percy bit back a curse. Now what was he going to do? How would he convince Georgiana that what she saw and heard in the parlor was only a farce? Everything in him wanted to follow her. Actually, he did try, though guilt chased him out the door for leaving his wife in such a sorry state. But when Percy had finally disentangled his hand from the dowager’s and run outside, Georgiana’s carriage was halfway down the street.

  When he returned to the parlor, the whiny woman heaped more guilt on him until he truly felt as if he’d done something terribly wrong.

  At the moment, he was hiding like a guilt-ridden boy in the kitchen, hoping to remain undiscovered at least for a time. How had his carefree life and having just met a wonderful woman at the Sanctuary detoured so quickly to where he was now? It was a nightmare.

  Yet he knew it to be real. He might have blamed it on hallucinations brought on by too much drink, but with all the time spent with that woman in the parlor, he’d not even had the chance to imbibe. Not even a tiny glass of port.

  Berating himself, Percy couldn’t believe what an idiot he’d been not to have told Georgiana in the note more details of what had transpired. Perhaps if he had, she might not have been so shocked when she saw and heard that atrocious witch pawing at him and insisting he tell her he loved her.

  What a mess this all had become. Since in good conscience for the time being he could not leave the house, Percy was determined to send another note, this one telling her everything so she’d understand what was going on. She had to! While it was true he’d only just met her, something in his heart told him she was different. Special. The one woman for him who could make all his dreams of true love come true.

  Hurrying, and hoping to be able to write his letter before being found out and screeched at by the dowager for leaving her presence, Percy made his way along a back hall to his room to retrieve some more foolscap. He would have gone there sooner but knew the footman could have easily found him. He did pity the footman somewhat. The dowager had made him her personal servant.

  Still, it had to be better than having the wretched woman call him darling. He shuddered, nearly unable to hold the quill to compose his letter. He’d do whatever it took to convince Georgiana of the truth. Guilt scratched at him, reminded him of the physician’s warning about saying anything to anyone about the situation for fear word of it might get back to Miriam and upset her. He must do it, though. There was no other way.

  Would it really be so bad if Percy just slipped out of the house? Went to see Georgiana and left the dowager to the care of her family and the physician?

  Dr. Hervey had piled on the guilt. Made it quite clear that if Percy did anything to upset the dowager, her condition might worsen. Percy clenched his jaws together.

  Leave it to me to develop a conscience now of all times!

  He closed his door, hoping for a few uninterrupted moments, and tried to summon the right words for the note. Now that he was there with quill and paper, the words he needed to write seemed like a farce. Would he be able to make Georgiana believe that the strange happenings were true?

  He must try.

  My dear Lady Peregrine,

  Let me start by saying how sorry I am that you witnessed what you did in our parlor. Not because I’m ashamed of being caught at something. No. Because what you saw was a lie.

  In my previous note, I told you of the dowager’s accident here in the house. What I neglected to say was what took place after her injury. For some odd reason of which I cannot fathom, the strange woman has the notion that I am someone I’m not.

  Believe me when I tell you that I was shocked and appalled. But to make matters much worse, the physician has cautioned me that were I to do anything to upset the dowager at this point, he couldn’t say how it would affect her recovery. In his estimation, it would not be positive in the least.

  So, while everything in me longs to come and see you, I can’t. Guilt has taken a hold of me. Every time I’m ready to sneak away and see you, I have a sudden remorseful premonition that the woman might get worse or even die. I can’t have that on my conscience.

  I am much aggrieved that this has happened, especially since I have developed such an incredible fondness for you, my dear. Examine your heart, remember my softly spoken words and our embraces. Then you will know the truth.

  Yours most affectionately,

  Percy

  He read over what h
e’d written again. Would Georgiana believe his words? What else could he do, aside from actually leaving the house and dying of guilt? At first, he’d hoped that when Barrington and Cecilia returned home he might gain a respite. Alas, it wasn’t to be. Even with them and the Loftons present, the blasted woman only wanted Percy. Why was this happening? He barely knew her. She wasn’t in her right mind because of the injury, of course, but to mistake him for her long lost husband?

  Perhaps it was as simple as she had loved the man so much and her injured mind latched onto the first man she saw. He’d have to ask Conrad if it was the case with his mother, that she suffered from a longing for her spouse. Might that explain at least some of the bizarre goings-on?

  After handing the note to the footman to have it delivered, and he’d had to give his best severe look to the footman in order for him to comply, Percy went in search of the Loftons.

  They were standing outside the parlor and the door was closed. Had something happened to the dowager? Guilt washed over him anew when the thought brought not only remorse but relief. “Might I have a word?”

  Conrad turned, seeming to not quite have heard him. “Pardon?”

  “There’s something I must—” He glanced at Amelia, inclined his head in greeting, and studied Conrad. “That is, might I ask you a question? About your mother?”

  “Oh. Of course.” Conrad addressed his wife. “My dear, will you excuse me for a moment?”

  She nodded and kept watch by the door. Was something bad happening in the parlor?

  Percy tilted his head toward the library across the hall. After they entered, Percy closed the door.

  “There’s something you wish to ask me, Percy?” His pallor was more pale than normal and a frown rested on his face. He looked more ill than his mother.

  “Yes. But… Are you feeling unwell?”

  “What? Oh. I’m fine. Physically, that is.”

  “Worry about a beloved family member can cause heartache.”