Georgette and the Unrequited Love: Sisters of Castle Fortune Book 1

by Alicia Cameron

  Georgette tried again, with the same shameful result. A servant, who was to one side of the target ready to retrieve the arrows, had to duck.

  ‘Stop, Miss Fortune,’ said a familiar, thrilling voice. ‘Newgate’s hangman isn’t as dangerous as you.’

  She laughed. ‘You are not a gentleman, sir. I am doing my poor best.’ He had been regarding Miss White’s success and she added, ‘Go encourage Miss White. I’m sure she will welcome your tutelage as I do not.’

  He ground his teeth. ‘Miss White does very well on her own. You however…’ Suddenly he was behind her, grasping her bow, he was too close, his hands on hers, his body almost touching her back. ‘Here!’ He pulled her arm straight and her fingers tight on the arrow. ‘Now!’ he said, and they let it go. She watched as the arrow flew straight to near the centre of the target. His hands dropped and he stood back. ‘See!’

  ‘Yes,’ said Foggy Carswell, ‘but just let us see her do it for herself!’

  Georgette lifted the bow with decision. She notched an arrow, she looked at the target. It flew through the air, and landed in a small sheep’s pat two feet from the target. A second of gasping, and then the whole company dissolved into giggles. She saw Miss White look at her suddenly, surrounded by her court, but hearing the sound of his laugh perhaps above all others. Don’t worry Julia, tomorrow morning you will speak to him, I will see to it.

  Apart from being met with an urgent message from the kitchen because Hades had escaped captivity in the barn and had eaten half the lamb cutlets for tonight, which necessitated telling all of her sisters to prefer cold ham for dinner, not much else occurred.

  Viscountess Swanson said to her at one point, ‘I hate to see you too forward with the gentlemen, Miss Fortune. However plain you are, I had previously thought you of good character.’

  Even when one knew this was Her Ladyship’s forte, and though she had advised all of her sisters to ignore the snide remarks, this could not but sting. Her sense of humour deserted her, and she left the room precipitately. She passed Lord Onslow on the edge of some group discussing the rules of tomorrow’s horse race and he followed her and caught her in her mother’s tiny study. She spun round, tears in her eyes.

  ‘What has occurred?’ he asked simply.

  ‘Nothing. Just Viscountess Swanson.’

  ‘The old cat. What was it? Dress indecorous? You used the wrong spoon at breakfast?’

  ‘I am too forward with gentlemen, I’m told,’ she tried to laugh, but it still smarted.

  ‘Is it like you to give her credence?’

  ‘No. Usually I can see how ridiculous she is, however sour her words. It was something else she said.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘She said she had previously thought me of good character.’

  ‘And that upset you why? You know how she is.’

  ‘I do. But good character is the last thing I have to cling to.’

  ‘Well,’ he said wryly, ‘you certainly cannot rely on the archery. If you had to shoot a deer for your family, as maidens no doubt did when this castle was new, you would all starve.’

  ‘Do not make me laugh. Have I been forward? I seem to have been out of society so long, perhaps I do not remember how to behave.’ She looked aghast. ‘I should have told you to leave the room!’

  ‘It is perfectly decorous. The door is ajar. And you have only been as forward as to lead us into such comfortable terms with each other. I feel somehow you are like a sister of mine that I have known forever.’

  The tears threatened again, but she said, ‘Well, you will be glad when I say that you are not much like my brother. But I do know what you mean … but leave me now. I know it is silly to heed the viscountess, and I just need to compose myself.’

  ‘Yes, I will go, if you promise me you will not brood on her silliness.’

  A maid rushed in and said, ‘Miss Georgette, Mrs Scroggins is in a swoon because your aunt only sent a dozen eggs, and it is not nearly—’ then espying Lord Onslow, who was standing to one side of the door, she said. ‘Oh, excuse me miss.’

  ‘Never mind, Rose. Tell Mrs Scroggins I will send for more before dinner.’

  ‘I’ll leave you!’ Onslow said. ‘The emergency of the missing eggs must be resolved!’

  ‘You jest, sir, but you will not laugh when tonight’s custard tart is missing.’ He smiled and bowed himself out, and Georgette was left alone, shaking. A sister to him! She could wish they had not ridden together — was it only this morning? — and never become friendly. It was eating at her. He was so sensitive and noticing, now that he was aware of her, and it made her ache for him. But she was like a sister to him and that might mean he would seek out this intimacy and it would continue to torture her. It might be worse than forgotten and unseen, she had yet to decide.

  Yes, it was. While she was unnoticed by him, she had the ease to think if he had only known me. But now he did and still that closeness was not enough. She was “like a sister”. How long could she stand this?

  After dinner, Paxton, Onslow, Carswell and Fortune sat playing cards. ‘Your sister has done your father proud in arranging this pleasant house party,’ Onslow remarked.

  ‘Which sister?’ asked Fortune.

  ‘Miss Fortune.’

  ‘Miss — oh, you mean Georgette? — I don’t suppose she had much to do with it.’

  ‘No? Then who does?’

  ‘We have a steward and housekeeper, you know.’

  Onslow didn’t pursue it. Carswell said amiably, ‘Very nice sisters you have, Fortune.’

  ‘Are they? I wouldn’t know. They are just annoying little squabs who followed one around when a boy. Making a great deal of noise,’ he added, as an afterthought.

  ‘Yes,’ said Carswell with feeling. ‘I know about sisters.’ His Adam’s apple bounced a few times. ‘But very nice girls, yours.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Paxton dreamily. ‘Fairy creatures and ancient walls — it is a very romantic combination, don’t you think? And the fairies’ mist this morning, dark and mysterious, like the castle and its inhabitants itself.’

  ‘Oh, don’t talk about mysteries,’ said Carswell. ‘Miss White has already asked me about ghosts. She seemed somewhat worried.’

  Onslow grinned. ‘Tell her to throw a slipper at it!’ he said, cryptically.

  ‘There are no ghosts,’ said Fortune without humour.

  ‘No, of course not,’ said Sir Justin, placating.

  After a pause, Fortune said, ‘Miss White is the loveliest young lady, don’t you think?’

  ‘Certainly!’ said Sir Justin, blandly. ‘A beauty admired by the world.’

  Carswell said, ‘Not just my line. To be frank, she’s the sort of young woman who terrifies me. I like my faces a little softer.’

  ‘What on earth do you mean?’ asked Fortune, affronted.

  ‘Nothing at all, old chap. Don’t mind me. I’m given to imbecilic thoughts, my sisters tell me.’

  To Carswell’s relief, George Fortune’s eye turned elsewhere. ‘I understand you once paid court to her, Onslow.’ That this remark was crass and prying, no one at the table could doubt.

  ‘If you mean spent time in her company,’ said Onslow in a dangerous voice, ‘in an effort to further our acquaintance, I did. But that was before her engagement.’

  ‘I believe her parents must have forced that upon her,’ Fortune said, defensively. There was a pregnant silence.

  ‘Here, gentlemen,’ said Foggy Carswell, ‘I fear we are, by accident, using a lady’s name too frequently. Perhaps we should stop now.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Onslow, throwing down his cards. ‘I am to bed if we are to ride tomorrow before breakfast. Will you join us, gentlemen?’

  ‘Good God, no!’ said Carswell.

  ‘I agree with Foggy, nothing can induce me to get up before noon.’

  ‘Very well. Justin?’

  ‘See you in the morning, Lucian.’

  With a last, dangerous glance between Fortune and Onslow,
the latter left with a casual salute.

  Chapter 8

  Portia, fifteen, and Katerina, sixteen, came to Georgette’s room after dinner, both with concerned expressions. Katerina would be pretty, but her grey eyes were usually suspicious, and her disposition moody. She had looked very well this evening, in one of Georgette’s cast-offs, a green muslin not cut too low at the neck. Portia was attractive in her own way too. Her fair hair was more elaborately dressed than usual, with Jocasta’s London maid running between three of the sisters since her father had issued the order that they should all look “bang up to date”. Georgette had been left to dress her hair herself, but she did this quite efficiently. The twins, of course, had their long blond locks still down, and all the world commented on them.

  Portia, Georgette thought, showed very much to advantage. She was a handsome girl, tall and slender, and if her nose was a little long, then her eyes were merry and she had done well in company, with a gift for making others laugh. Sometimes she had a dreamy expression, and it lent her eyes a dewy beauty that gentlemen at the party seemed to notice. She had even flirted a little with the gentlemen, and since she could easily pass for eighteen, the gentlemen had let her. Somehow her hair, just one shade lighter brown than Katerina’s, seemed to glow in candlelight, and everyone had heard Papa’s approval of her. ‘There’s a girl that knows how to go on,’ he’d said to himself at one point of the evening. ‘Might not have to pay for her season at this rate.’ Good natured Lady Bailey had not been near enough to cover his tracks and Sir Justin had stepped in to ask questions about the horse race. ‘Good grief, I know nothing of it, ask George!’ replied her father.

  ‘All in hand!’ had said George Fortune and Georgette’s eyes narrowed. She knew that tone of empty promise. When her sisters left she would have to go and find her brother.

  ‘Katerina wants to complain,’ said Portia, sitting on the bed, ‘But I am having a splendid time!’

  ‘Trying to get yourself a husband!’ said Katerina, ‘As Papa informed the room. I do not know how you can, Portia. We are much too young.’

  ‘Don’t you ever want to leave this place? You are so stupid, Katerina! This is our opportunity to practise in company before our season.’

  ‘Serves you right if you end up with Lord Bucknell. You spoke to him and he replied. That will be quite enough to make Papa plague him to offer for you.’

  Portia visibly shuddered, then turned to Georgette. ‘I was only being polite. My idea of marriage is a meeting of twin souls!’ She looked off into the distance, and Katerina shared a disgusted look with Georgette. Portia caught it and said, pointing at Katerina, ‘She’s only mad because Papa chided her.’

  Georgette blanched. ‘Not in public?’

  ‘No, he took her aside. He said—’ continued Portia.

  ‘You were not present,’ said Katerina sulkily. ‘He asked me which of the young gentlemen I preferred and that he would see to it we were thrown together,’ said Katerina. ‘I said I thought all the men very silly indeed, talking about the stupid horse race, and he got very angry and he shook me, Georgie!’

  Georgette was shocked, but said, ‘You might have known you could not speak so to Papa. It was most disrespectful.’

  ‘But it is this awful party. If Viscountess Swanson is not commenting on my table manners, Lord Bucknell is glaring over me and Mrs Hardy is telling Amethyst Bailey and me not to run on so.’

  ‘Ho! She told Maria Bailey that she was slouching, and poor Maria slouched even more,’ said Portia.

  ‘She’s a horrid old cat, and she joins in with Lady Bucknell and Mrs Hardy to make everyone miserable,’ said Katerina.

  ‘That is quite enough girls. I will talk to Papa,’ though she trembled a little at the thought, ‘and now I must go and find George.’

  She shooed away her sisters and set downstairs with purpose, glad she had not yet disrobed before her sisters’ visit. She was surprised to meet Lord Onslow on these, the turret stairs closer to her bedroom. It was the worst luck ever. The turret was very narrow and there was little room for two people. He stopped below her and looked up. ‘Miss Fortune!’

  ‘I’ll go back up,’ Georgette said.

  ‘There is ample room. But stay, you look distressed.’

  ‘No sir, really, I am very well. I just wish to find my brother.’

  ‘I left him in the little card room.’

  ‘Oh then,’ she lifted her skirts and passed him, necessarily touching his arm.

  ‘Tomorrow then?’ he said.

  She turned back and nodded, surprised that he had not moved. Her heart was beating fast, of course, but he seemed to have been watching her, concern in his blue eyes. She had to shake herself to break that gaze and take a step down.

  She went to look for George. On her way though, she saw her father sprawled at the great fire himself, and she ventured toward him.

  ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘it’s you.’ He added to himself, ‘No hopes where you’re concerned.’

  Georgette swallowed this with a sigh. ‘Papa, you frightened Katerina tonight.’

  The great head of shaggy grey hair rose abruptly. ‘And she should be afraid of her papa. What is this to do with you, miss?’

  She trembled, but had to speak on. ‘Nothing, Papa, except that I venture to say — to further your ends it might be better to let nature take its course. You will make her afraid to talk to anyone. And she is very young.’

  He looked a little ashamed, but said gruffly, ‘Sixteen ain’t she? I married your mother at fifteen.’ Or how else might you have got a woman of such sense to marry you? Georgette thought to herself. ‘As to letting nature take its course,’ Papa added, ‘I did that with you and see where it got me.’

  Georgette curtsied, ‘Yes, Papa,’ she said and left him to his brandy. She believed he had heard a little of what she’d said to him, and could only hope so. She went into the card room after a knock and Sir Justin jumped up quickly, followed, more leisurely, by Lord Paxton.

  ‘Miss Fortune!’

  ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, I would like to speak to my brother. It will not delay your game for more than a minute. George?’

  Her brother threw his cards down, and said, ‘Oh, very well!’ with bad grace and followed her from the room.

  ‘Yes?’ he said, looking down his nose. Though his hair was dark and kept from shaggy with pomade, Georgette saw again how like Papa he was as his large bulk hovered over her with a hint of threat.

  ‘When you said you had the race all in hand, George, what preparations have you ordered?’

  He flushed, ‘It’s a horse race. What preparations are needed?’

  ‘Good gracious! A course, preferably one that has somewhere with a vantage point for the ladies to watch, a start and finish line and, all manner of things.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t,’ he said shortly.

  Georgette sighed, ‘I’ll send for the marshall.’

  George walked off in his arrogant way.

  ‘Oh and George, I’ll warm up Falcon before breakfast.’

  ‘You will not! Ride your own mare.’

  ‘I must, George. Miss White wishes to ride and as you know all of us girls share poor Bessie, and you are aware that there is not another horse in the stables suitable.’

  ‘Then Miss White can ride Falcon.’

  ‘I have it on good authority that she’d fall off,’ said Georgette calmly.

  ‘Oh, very well. But don’t strain his mouth.’

  He knew she would never … Disgusted, she decided she liked Papa rather better than her brother.

  She found Dickson and asked him to send for the marshall of the stables, Siddons. She gave the necessary order, discussed the most suitable course, and then told Dickson to arrange a refreshment table at the end of the course for riders and spectators alike. Mrs Scroggins would no doubt be delighted at these last-minute arrangements. Oh, well. She emerged from her little sitting room, almost freezing, and began to mount the stairs. Sir Justin F
aulkes spoke behind her. ‘You are very late, Miss Fortune,’ he said. ‘I trust you will be able to make our morning ride?’

  Feeling cold and tired, Georgette said, ‘Of course, sir. Fortune girls are made of sturdy stuff. Goodnight!’ and flew up the stairs. In her room, she found that her bed had been warmed. Dickson must have given the order. Though his demeanour was, for the most part, disapproving, he alone knew the totality of what she’d dealt with for the entertainment of their guests.

  She woke up as usual, and dressed in her riding habit once more, wishing that the fastenings on ladies’ garments were not in such awkward places, but she knew the maids were hard stretched as it was, and she did not call. She put on her little bonnet with the neat veil against insects, and left the room. Miss White was waiting, dressed in a glorious blue velvet habit, her golden hair already elaborately coiffed and sporting a black top hat with a blue gauze veil. She looked perfectly delicious. Well, all the better for my plan, Georgette thought, but a little dejectedly.

  They came down the main staircase, and since the two men were already down in the hall, she was easily aware of how well her plan was commencing. She sought Onslow’s eyes which were watching every graceful move of Julia White’s descent, his serious look unable to hide his admiration.

  ‘Miss White!’ breathed Sir Justin in awe. He too? thought Georgette, regarding his open mouth. Onslow’s eyes were on hers in a second, and he seemed to see her wry resignation and smiled at her. ‘Good morning ladies,’ he said briskly, ‘Shall we go?’

  Julia pulled at Georgette’s sleeve. ‘There is a very quiet horse in the stables, is there not, Miss … Georgette?’

  ‘Don’t worry, Julia, my Bessie will be just the mount for you. She doesn’t take flight like my brother’s horse Falcon, I’ll ride him today.’

  ‘Are you not afraid?’

  ‘Oh, I have ridden him often when George has gone away for a few days in the carriage.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Julia sincerely. ‘When Miss Graves was trying to make me look foolish before Mr Allison, she set me to ride her horse, and it reared until I almost fell off.’