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

Page 10

by Alicia Cameron


  Onslow, miserable this evening because he was seated directly opposite Julia White, an outcome that had been brought about by some scheming on Miss White’s part, must be put far from that lady’s orbit. This diverted from her original plan, but she could not so expose him. Julia had performed those delicate, maidenly flirtations again, primarily with her brother George, who arrogantly thought himself her favourite, and James Bailey nearly opposite, whose boyish compliments could not fail to please. Georgette herself doubted that George was the favourite, since her conversation of today — was it only today? Mr Carswell, on the other side of Miss White, largely ignored Julia, and no insistence by Frederick or James Bailey would move him from his spot beside Miss White this evening and thus delay his meat. Maria should be separated from the viscountess or her willing chattel Mrs Hardy. Similarly, Amethyst. Or anyone young. Who could she ring the viscountess with — for all of their protection? The Earl and Lady Alderly definitely deserved it for giving so little to the atmosphere, and holding themselves so above the company. The earl’s long face was so unlike his son’s, and although the delicate lines could be traced on his mother’s face, her stern appreciation of her rank gave her a cold and uncaring look, so far from Lord Paxton’s concentrated air of interest in everything that it was hard to identify her as his mother. Her clothes and jewels were rich indeed, but Georgette could not envy her. Her way of looking down her nose at the world, exactly in the manner of the balding earl, forbade it. The delicious thing was, all the world seemed too busy to notice their display of superiority, which added to the absurdity. But she needed another imperturbable male to bracket the viscountess. Papa? No, too dangerous. George! It served him right, and if she placed Julia White to his other side, he might not notice. The viscountess could say what she liked to George, the Fortune men had a tendency to deafness where they willed. Mix up the Baileys and the Bucknells, and the other gentlemen with her sisters, and tomorrow night’s table might just be happier. She had to sacrifice poor Lady Bailey to Papa, though — but it was at her own suggestion.

  Later, after the ladies withdrew and then the gentlemen joined them, Onslow took a seat next to hers to say, ‘Justin tells me you frowned your way through dinner.’ Well thought Georgette, since you regarded your plate all night in fear of seeing Julia, you certainly wouldn’t have noticed.

  She looked up at Sir Justin, who was reliving his victory in the race with a group of gentlemen. ‘He’s quite right, I did.’ She added, in a lowered voice. ‘Seating arrangements!’

  He cast a look around the room and finished on the upright and sour-faced figure of Lady Swanson. ‘You have your work cut out in this party.’

  His manner was so like the relaxed atmosphere of the rides that she was able to breathe and pretend to forget their last meeting. ‘Ah,’ she said conspiratorially, ‘I see you have located my greatest obstacle to harmony.’

  ‘Undefeatable!’ he said, in the same tone.

  ‘Not true, I’m going to trap her in a pincer movement, like General Wellesley, and make her volleys useless.’

  ‘Which two gentlemen do you sacrifice?’

  ‘Oh, the earl and my brother George.’

  ‘Alderly is a deserving candidate,’ he agreed dryly, ‘but what of your poor brother?’

  ‘You may not know this about my brother, but it is beneath him to take any notice of what a female might say, so our obstacle will have no effect on him at all.’ Georgette added without thinking, ‘Oh, and I will give him Miss White in compensation.’ Her mouth had run away with her and she regarded him closely. He had flinched only a little and his lip twitched. She paused. ‘And you will be seated at the very opposite end of the table, of course.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said more seriously. Then back to the conspiracy, ‘Who am I to sit between?’

  ‘Two unexceptional females, to be determined! I thought of Lady Bucknell as the first and perhaps Mrs Hardy as the second.’

  ‘If you dare,’ Onslow threatened. Sir Justin joined them, raising his eyebrows as he heard this threat. ‘I have uncovered what Miss Fortune frowned over,’ Onslow informed him, dropping his voice again. ‘Place settings.’

  ‘Good gracious, I should think you might frown, Miss Fortune. Impossible, I should say.’

  They were interrupted by a call from one of the guests. ‘Miss White, you simply must,’ said Mr James Bailey, in a railing tone, ‘play for us.’

  ‘Do, Julia!’ encouraged her friend, Lady Sarah. Georgette knew that the earl’s daughter did not particularly like to perform herself.

  ‘A jolly tune, not a sad one,’ said Carswell hopefully.

  Miss White sat at Georgette’s mother’s pianoforte, and began her song: a cheery country air, that had many of the assembled company singing to the chorus. ‘I say,’ said Frederick Bailey to Lady Sarah, sitting near to them, ‘isn’t she just splendid?’ Handsome Lady Sarah Alderly, with a wry look, nodded agreement.

  Unexpectedly, the morose voice of Lord Bucknell intoned, ‘Magnificent!’ The large bosom of his mother, Lady Bucknell heaved in disapproval.

  ‘Well,’ said Sir Justin. ‘He’s enthralled.’

  ‘Don’t worry, it wears off,’ Onslow said.

  Sir Justin and Georgette exchanged a glance with meaning. ‘Yes,’ he said.

  Chapter 10

  The ride the next morning was very spirited. She took Falcon again, and George not having left orders to the contrary, his personal groom Joseph reluctantly saddled him for her. George deserved it, she decided, and if Joseph was wise, he would never know.

  ‘I thought the other day how well you looked in the saddle, Miss Fortune,’ said Sir Justin. ‘A fine horsewoman!’

  ‘Indeed,’ agreed Onslow.

  It did not move her as a word from him would have two years ago. They had fallen into the way of sparring with each other, so she was waiting for the other shoe to fall. She raised her brows. ‘However?’

  ‘Well, to say truth I do not like to see a young lady on a horse so strong. She may come to harm. Or the horse could.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ said Georgette, annoyed despite herself.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘and she should never gallop lest—’

  Georgette was gone. She heard Sir Justin say, ‘What on earth?’ and Onslow laughed. He was with her in a second. After some minutes she slowed, and he did too, laughing at her.

  ‘You knew I would do that … you are a coxcomb.’

  ‘As bad as that?’ he laughed. ‘You ride quite brilliantly.’

  ‘Well,’ she said without conceit, ‘there’s nothing much more to do other than ride around here. All of the Fortune brood can ride. Just not all together.’ She smiled at him. ‘It is one of our chief sources of discord.’

  ‘Not enough horses. Don’t you use the carriage horses?’

  ‘Sometimes, but whenever I have, I found they were needed and one had caused a domestic emergency.’

  ‘So it’s Bessie or Falcon, if George had gone off in a carriage?’

  ‘Yes, but that’s rare. And it is totally forbidden to ride King, Papa’s stallion.’ She smiled. ‘I fear I am complaining when in truth I am very fortunate.’

  ‘Do you like managing a great house, Miss Fortune?’ he asked, leaning forward to pet his horse, Thunder.

  ‘I do not run it,’ she said, surprised.

  ‘Then who?’

  ‘Papa, of course.’

  He laughed. ‘You have hidden talents, Miss Fortune. I think you do much, including running the Castle.’

  Georgette was stunned. ‘I assure you, no! I only do the minimum.’

  ‘I think you do more than that. I think it all falls on you.’

  ‘You are mistaken. I am the laziest person I know. Leave me with a book, and I won’t move for hours. I want to avoid all work at all times. I only do what I have to, what would make me more uncomfortable not to do.’

  ‘I don’t think you know yourself very well….’ He shook his head and smiled a little.

&
nbsp; Sir Justin rode up. ‘You miscreants, you rode off without me! I had to stop just to watch you ride, Miss Fortune. A sight indeed.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Georgette blushed, unused to so much fulsome praise at once.

  ‘Miss Fortune was only now telling me how she does nothing but be lazy all day.’

  ‘You! After Lucian pointed it out to me, I quite see now that you run the whole castle. Your mother prepared you for the world, I think.’

  She laughed, a little consciously. ‘You both are quite wrong. I do what I must to stop the place falling apart, but I would rather read. And I have none of the wifely virtues at all.’

  ‘No? I’ll wager you can even play the pianoforte,’ said Onslow sardonically.

  ‘I tried when Mama was still alive, but it did not prosper. I have no talent.’ Sir Justin laughed, and Onslow smiled at her frankness. ‘I cannot sew at all elegantly, I can only mend linen that the moth has eaten, or darn a sock that a toe has poked through. As for embroidery, none at all. Also,’ she said with the air of one coming clean, ‘I cannot draw or paint. I am a complete failure in female accomplishments.’

  ‘Can you use the globe?’

  ‘Not at all, so we must hope Papa never sends me to be a governess. My ignorance, plus a lack of dedication, would make me useless to the children of England.’

  Her companions laughed, and they rode on companionably.

  Chapter 11

  ‘Jump!’

  The Honourable Mr Carswell, Foggy to his intimates, had been having a wander around the environs of the castle when he found a bundle of white muslin in a tree. The alacrity with which this command was obeyed almost staggered him. ‘Which one are you?’ he said, unceremoniously putting the blond-haired child-damsel down.

  ‘Leonora. The lion,’ she added impressively, looking up at him with a fierce expression in her large blue eyes.

  ‘Don’t seem very lion-like to me. Couldn’t get down from that tree.’

  ‘I expect I could have eventually,’ Leonora pouted. She was adjusting her dress and shoes and sat down on a handy fallen log. Carswell, with nothing else to do, joined her. ‘Which one are you?’ she asked, giving him his words back.

  ‘Foggy. I mean, Carswell.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ She was dusting off her boots and retying the laces.

  ‘Well,’ said Carswell, ‘I find that if one stands around the castle long enough people ask one to do things. And speak to one.’

  Leonora accepted this. ‘What do you like to do?’

  Carswell edited his answer in regard of her age (fourteen, he believed he remembered hearing) and sex. ‘Ride. Or,’ he said expansively, ‘drive.’

  ‘So do I. We all like riding, but I only like riding, so I do a deal more than the rest of the girls. And once I stole the doctor’s gig and drove it around the park.’ She said it proudly. ‘He was furious.’

  ‘I should think he might be. I’m dashed glad I didn’t bring my own carriage, in that case,’ Carswell chided.

  Leonora turned her nose up at this, but after a moment asked, ‘You came with Lord Paxton. If you don’t like this sort of thing, why did you?’

  ‘Ah, well,’ taking this whole conversation as he might do with his youngest sister Christiana, nearly the same age, ‘The countess made me.’

  ‘Why did she want that?’

  ‘Invited a lot of Paxton’s friends as a cloak to muddy the waters in case the match didn’t take.’ He looked conscious. ‘I mean—’

  ‘Lord Paxton and Jocasta, I know!’ said Leonora, placating.

  Carswell nodded and continued, reminiscing. ‘Lady Alderly trapped us, really. Asked me if I had an engagement, and then pounced.’ He shrugged. ‘Seems like the match is sticking, though. Paxton and your sister are always together.’

  ‘In the summerhouse, I know.’

  ‘Well, I suspect Paxton would like there to be more subterfuge and clandestine meetings. Thinks it’s romantic. He’s that sort of chap.’ Carswell blinked. This inclination was obviously beyond him. ‘The summerhouse is as near as he can get to an adventure in this dashed place. Though by the look of it, that shack may fall on them at any minute.’

  ‘I know!’ Leonora laughed wickedly. ‘It would be so droll!’ Then she regarded Carswell closely. ‘Don’t you like the castle? Papa says it is the most ancient and esteemed house in the district.’

  ‘Most ancient, anyway,’ Carswell said looking gloomily at the ancient walls towering above him on a mound. Then he recollected himself. ‘That is, dashed fine building, just a trifle draughty.’

  ‘Tornadoes of wind in the winter,’ said Leonora in agreement, looking back at her home. ‘You have to know the holes to crawl in.’ She sighed. ‘Funny, isn’t it? It looks very solid from here and the walls are so thick. You wonder how the wind finds himself inside.’

  ‘Those arrow-hole-notch-things. Whatever they are called.’

  ‘I believe Papa calls them balistraria,’ murmured Leonora. ‘Oh, how clever you are! That will be how the wind gets in. I don’t suppose they could cut glass small enough to fit in there. Or Papa would object in case enemies appear on horseback.’ She laughed. ‘Do you know that of all the things Papa insists on, it is that the suits of armour should be oiled in case they have to use them?’

  ‘What?’ Carswell said, with unbecoming enjoyment.

  ‘George says it’d be no use against shot, but Papa insists they might need it.’

  ‘Zany!’ said Carswell, without thought. He recollected himself. ‘I suppose I’d better get back. Dashed early dinners in the country.’

  ‘Yes, and I have to do my arithmetic questions or Georgie says I won’t get any supper.’ She jumped up, and they started walking back, Carswell lagging. Leonora remarked, ‘You really don’t want to go back. What is the problem?’

  Carswell sighed, walked for a bit, then when Leonora’s eyes were too probing for him, he gave in. ‘I can’t talk to ladies.’ He confessed. ‘It makes it dashed awkward at dinner.’

  ‘You talked to me.’

  ‘You are just a child!’ said Carswell. He took a look at her shining blond hair, with a few leaves stuck in it which he removed gingerly, and then at the pale blue eyes regarding him frankly, and said grimly, ‘Give it a few years and I won’t be able to speak to you, either.’

  ‘Being a child is a dashed nuisance,’ said Leonora, as Carswell protested her use of his language by a noise, ‘it means we can’t join you all for dinner, or I would talk to you.’

  Carswell ruffled her hair. ‘Thanks, lioness!’ He moved ahead gloomily, helping Leonora over a stile, by dint of lifting her by the waist. ‘It’s really peculiar,’ he mused as she grunted her objection to the help she had not needed. ‘I just completely dry up. I imagine them failing to find a chin on my face and seeing the vacant look in my eye if they speak of art or poetry or some such, and I cannot talk for the life of me. Like with your sister Jocasta. She’s talked to me a number of times to be polite, and all I can hear is a rush of blood to my ears. But once she’s safely knotted to Paxton, I expect I’ll be able to talk again, all right and tight.’

  Leonora looked at him. ‘That is odd,’ she said, ‘so it is marriageable females that make you afraid?’

  ‘Lord, yes,’ said Carswell, once more careless in his language. ‘And there are so dashed many of them here, and no escaping them as one can at a ball or some such thing. They terrify me — I don’t expect that I’m the marrying type of man.’

  ‘Well, you are young as yet, I suppose,’ said Leonora, climbing the next stile with not a hint of decorum, dress up to her knees. ‘What age are you, exactly?’

  ‘Twenty-three,’ answered Carswell casually. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I am fourteen. I like a man who likes riding and am not overly fond of chins. I will be seventeen in three years and have my first season. You will be twenty-six by then, and I really think you should marry and have yourself some children. You are very good with children, I can tell.’<
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  ‘I say…’ said Foggy Carswell, stopping to meet her blue-eyed gaze with some fear.

  ‘Don’t worry. You have three years to think about it.’

  She blinked and moved off and he shook himself. He gave an uncertain laugh. Perhaps he should say something either comforting or off-putting to a young girl with a tendre for an older man. He’d heard of such things before, though he had never thought to inspire one himself. One was supposed to consider such delicate feelings. But the young harum-scarum before him hadn’t seem to be suffering from delicate feelings, she’d looked frighteningly determined.

  They had reached the house, and Jocasta Fortune was crossing the hall, took one look at her sister and said, ‘Le-on-ora! Look at you! Go and change immediately before Papa gets a glimpse of you.’

  ‘Doubt he’d notice!’ said Leonora, cheekily. Carswell, feeling a little battle scarred, was still standing in the vestibule adjacent to the Great Hall.

  Leonora, who had skipped up the stairs a way, turned back and said, ‘Remember, Mr Carswell, I’m coming for you.’

  ‘You must think her a hoyden, Mr Carswell,’ laughed Jocasta. ‘When is she coming for you? For the archery tomorrow? She is not very good. None of us have had a great deal of practise. I hope she did not foist herself on your notice, she’s more of a wild beast than a little sister, I’m afraid.’ Carswell silently agreed, but could not speak. ‘Where did you find her?’ continued Jocasta. ‘Marguerite was looking for her.’

  Carswell vaguely concluding Marguerite must be the twin, reverted to type and answered, ‘I … it’s … she … tree!’ he finished, brilliantly, scuttling away with an apologetic glance at the pretty Miss Jocasta Fortune.

 

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