Perhaps, she had reflected later, it was simply because he was a man of the world, one who seemed to be eating up his experiences in life, even the experience of squiring a green girl to a lack-lustre supper table. She had gone proudly in to the supper room on his arm, his good looks and fine figure not lost on the onlookers. He had asked if he could dance with her once more, after supper — but he had been called away, and had even diverted his departure by seeking her in the ballroom to tell her so. Later, she had received a note (quite unnecessary, she had thought) to their London house to say that he must go abroad and to thank her once more for a charming evening. She had frowned a little, sad not to pursue their acquaintance, but wondering that he had felt the need to write and how on earth he had found out her direction. Had he danced with others that evening and written to all of them? Was this an example of Indian manners? Perhaps it was their easy conversation over supper, or the promised dance. She wished him God speed in her head, was a trifle regretful for two days, lingering on a memory of his smile, and then let it go.
Quite soon afterwards, her attention had been riveted by the marquis.
Now she received her second note from Colonel Bellamy. It was dropped into her saucer as he passed her in a knot of people. Georgette, feeling vaguely embarrassed, read it, holding it under the table top for discretion’s sake. It said:
Talk here is difficult. Could you meet me at the stables in ten minutes? I promise I will not keep you. B
She was unable to think of a reason to meet him, and was rather shocked to be asked to do so in this fashion — but she was glad, on reflection, that whatever he needed to say to her would not be witnessed by her papa. Her father had already introduced Bellamy to Katerina (who frowned) and Portia (who did a pretty imitation of her sister Jocasta’s winsomeness) with a ‘Young girls are ripe for marriage these days.’ Presumably Colonel Bellamy must be at least eligible in the baron’s eye. Therefore, Georgette thought it was imperative to offer her father no foolish hope. Going outside with a man was certainly something that would be frowned on, but would anyone actually miss her? Onslow and Faulkes were safely surrounded by the Baileys, her sister Katerina and Lord Paxton. If she left now, anyone who even thought about it might suppose her to be performing her household duties. She did not really know Colonel Bellamy, and she knew she should refuse him this shocking request, but she made a decision. She moved to Katerina, who was in a set with the Bucknells and looked utterly bored, and whispered in her ear. Both girls took old cloaks from the hall, and left for the stables.
On her way, Georgette explained briefly to Katerina that Colonel Bellamy wanted a quiet word with her for a reason she did not know, and Katerina asked rudely, ‘With you? The rich one?’
Was he a man of fortune, then? This would partly account for his instant popularity, she believed, and was even more confused. With the young ladies such a handsome figure would always be a favourite, but the old cats Lady Bucknell, Viscountess Swanson and Mrs Hardy had also been attentive. However, she was intrigued. It was a dangerous habit of Georgette’s to be intrigued. The two sisters went to pat the horses while Siddons, the marshall, looked a trifle askance, but he left them to it, muttering to himself. It was as well they were known to be horse mad, thought Georgette.
The boots of Colonel Bellamy were soon heard on the cobbles, and the girls looked up. He seemed to be surprised at her sister’s presence, but he moved forward to say frankly, ‘Thank you for meeting me, Miss Fortune, Miss Katerina.’
‘Off you go and talk,’ said Katerina airily. ‘But be quick, it’s chilly tonight.’
‘Don’t you wish to know the reason for my taking your sister aside, Miss Katerina?’ asked Colonel Bellamy, almost amused. ‘I would hate for you to think ill of my intentions.’
‘Other people do not interest me much, Colonel Bellamy. And no one has intentions towards Georgette. That has been quite established.’
Georgette, still flustered, reflected that to be as without shame as her sister must be powerful indeed.
Bellamy blinked at this, but laughed and moved some stalls off, touching the head of a handsome black beast, whose exact duplicates in the stalls beside indicated that it was one of a set of superior carriage horses she had not met before. More from Alderly’s stables that the colonel had made use of? They seemed too fine to be hired cattle.
Georgette stood at arm’s length, waiting without a word. She was becoming nervous now. If her father were to see her at this moment she would pay dearly. It seemed now like the height of recklessness for her to be here, but she was so sure that Colonel Bellamy was not such a one as Lord Stanford, who had once tried to take her apart at a ball. Unhappily, Georgette had accidentally stood on His Lordship’s fine boots. Hard.
Bellamy looked at her, and the sparse light provided by the lantern could not quite describe his expression to Georgette, but his voice was charming, with that undercurrent of warmth that she remembered from their previous encounter. ‘I was glad that you did not quite forget me, Miss Fortune.’
She decided on frankness. ‘How could I forget one of the friendliest encounters of my season, sir?’
‘Did you feel so? So did I, and I was very sorry not to pursue the connection.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ This was pointed indeed, and becoming uncomfortable. But what had she expected, she chided herself, answering a gentleman’s summons to the stable in the late evening? Is he another sort of gentleman than she had suspected? She held herself stiffly and took another step back.
He did not come forward, but the warm confiding tone continued, seeming a little sinister in the stables at twilight. ‘I meant to dance with you a great deal that season, Miss Fortune, I had quite decided upon it, that evening at Almacks.’
‘Oh, yes?’ was all she could think to say to this. She could just decipher a dark glow from his eyes, and held her breath, taking another step away from him. ‘You wished to speak to me, sir? What precisely is it you wished to say?’
‘Did you regret the promised dance, Miss Fortune?’
‘It was over three years ago, sir—’ Georgette wished that she had not come. All of this was so strange and intense, so against the behaviour of polite society.
‘Please tell me, Miss Fortune. If you refuse to, I will not press you more. But believe me, I have a reason to wish to know.’
‘I believe I regretted it the next day,’ she admitted quietly, adopting as light a tone as she could. ‘For I thought I had enjoyed our talk.’
‘The next day I was aboard a ship bound for the East Indies — and I had a whole sea voyage to regret it. As I have until this day.’
‘Sir!’ Georgette was now thoroughly embarrassed.
‘You think me precipitate. I have not lived in London these many years, and I live a life of decision in my business. You may not believe that such a short period with someone could instil such certainty in me, but it was so.’
Georgette could not but believe it possible. It had happened to her in a few seconds with the Marquis of Onslow — but she must put a stop to this. She took yet another step back, but she could not think how to end this very improper conversation.
‘I would have written,’ he continued, ‘indeed, I did write many unsent lines to you, but I did not feel I had the right to correspond with you, especially when I had no idea when I might return to England. That would have been selfish, I think, and so I did not. That night, you see, I had been called away by the illness of my uncle. I had duty to him, and I had to stay to make my way in life. I wish to be frank with you.’ Georgette was reeling from his frankness already, and wanted to escape it. ‘All of this time I have kept an eye on you from a distance. My sister, Mrs Hall, watched the papers for an announcement of your engagement, and tried to descry if you were attached to any gentleman in particular. I’m afraid I set a spy on you, Miss Fortune.’
Georgette was breathless. What if his sister had noted her eyes following Onslow around the room? What if her secret was discovered? But she was also t
hinking how she understood the colonel. She should be outraged, but all she could feel was pity. Had she not done all these things herself? ‘Please, do not—’
‘She told me you are still free, Miss Fortune. Is this so?’
‘This conversation is too much, Colonel Bellamy. If you really sought to pursue the connection when you returned to England, why not just renew our acquaintance? Behave as a gentleman does instead of telling me such things—’ She tried to get possession of herself and said, more calmly. ‘You do not know me sir. You have refined too much upon an evening’s friendship. I must go now.’ She turned towards Katerina (in sight but out of earshot) who was now fondling Bessie’s nose.
Colonel Bellamy put his hand on her arm to prevent her, and she looked down, appalled. ‘I have not the reserved manner of an English gentleman I fear,’ he said hotly. ‘I have my Spanish mother’s temperament. Please Miss Fortune, I believe that you are more open than any other young lady I have met — and honest to a fault. Can you tell me if your heart is taken?’
He had pulled nearer to her and Georgette was still turned away from him in the direction of the supremely uninterested Katerina. She did not turn towards him, but felt impelled to breathe, ‘Not taken, sir. But not my own.’ He let her arm drop as though it seared him, and she dashed to Katerina, took her sister’s hand even as she protested, and they ran back together to the castle.
‘Are your slippers ruined?’ she asked in a bright voice to her sister as they neared the great door.
‘No. We all know where to place our feet in that stable, even in the dark. Don’t tell me what all that was about, Georgie, but don’t drag me away from the fire again.’
There was really no need to implore Katerina to silence. She didn’t care enough to talk about it.
When Georgette re-entered the Great Hall, some of the guests were already abed. Onslow, Faulkes, Lady Bailey and her sons, Paxton and Portia were still up, drinking tea – along with Papa and George, which made her tremble.
Onslow’s eyes had found hers, even as her papa said, ‘Where have you been?’ Georgette flushed, eyes still on Onslow’s pale blue ones. His face, which had been smiling casually, stiffened. Her eyes dropped.
Katerina, who was behind her said, ‘The stables, Papa.’
‘At this hour? What on earth—?’ said George.
Katerina looked over at Georgette’s flushed face, and did something unexpected. ‘I was worried about Bessie after I rode her this afternoon. She seemed fatigued.’
‘Escaping company again, miss!’ said the baron audibly. ‘I know!’ The guests tried to look deaf.
Sometime later, when all the ladies had gone to their chambers and the gentlemen were sitting with a bottle of French brandy playing cards, Colonel Bellamy joined them.
‘Here sir!’ said the baron, ‘Take a hand.’
‘I came in to bid you goodnight, sir. But I will play a hand, if you gentlemen will permit.’ He sat down easily, smiling. Onslow dealt him in and George Fortune put a glass at his elbow.
‘Where were you this evening, Bellamy? You missed the first game,’ asked Fortune casually.
Onslow was choosing a card to discard and had pulled it from his hand as Bellamy said, ‘Oh, I just had to check that my horses settled.’
Onslow’s hand froze in mid-air. Sir Justin called him to order. ‘Dammit, Lucian, it’s your turn.’
‘Yes!’ he said, and threw down his card. He took a drink, the handle on his glass threatening to shatter it to pieces.
Chapter 14
Onslow and Faulkes came down the stairs to see a brightly smiling Georgette at the foot, awaiting them. After his late-night reflections, Onslow considered the smile sinister.
Even Faulkes must have felt it, for he said, surprised, ‘You are very cheerful this morning, Miss Fortune. Is there a special cause?’
She started and said, with an attempt at levity, ‘Am I not always cheerful, Sir Justin?’
Guilty, thought Onslow. But what of? They moved off in the direction of the stables. He laughed. ‘Not if there is a lack of eggs. Or a dog ate the meat.’
‘Did I tell you about that? And a good hostess is supposed to keep all domestic emergencies invisible to her guests.’
She met Onslow’s eye, looking for the laugh there he supposed, but he could not respond. He hated this. He would, as her friend, just ask her, and then all could be as it was. It was not too intrusive for such a friend as he to simply ask ‘Why did you go to the stables last evening? Did you chance to meet Bellamy there?’ Such a friend as he, he repeated to himself. How could he presume to call himself so and to interrogate her? She had blushed last night when asked her whereabouts. What could it mean? He had tossed in bed all night thinking that. When he found out Bellamy might have been— The colonel’s attention to her last evening before dinner had been most marked. They knew each other already.
Why, oh why was this disturbing him? He knew nothing of Bellamy, but he could not like a man who lures a woman to some tryst at night. She had her sister with her, true. But there was something disturbing. She had been afraid to confront her father. Something had been said or done. Bellamy liked Georgette Fortune. He had been happy to display that. What did it mean? In her own home, among her protectors, the man could not mean anything dishonourable. Onslow, now riding like the devil, found something worse. What if Bellamy had not dishonourable, but honourable intentions towards Miss Fortune?
She had caught up with him, George Fortune’s black stallion beneath her, her hair escaping its pins, and he wondered why thinking Bellamy might be serious was somehow worse.
‘Lucian!’ his friend’s voice cut into his thoughts. ‘What is wrong with you? I have addressed you twice already!’
‘Sorry. I had a bad night, Justin. Not quite awake yet.’
‘Well, don’t ride like a madman, then. We have not ridden this path before, and you do not know the pitfalls.’
‘Quite right,’ drawled Onslow.
Breakfast was a nightmare for Georgette. Onslow had hardly spoken a word to her during the ride and his eyes at the table were unfocused and serious. Opposite him sat Miss White, for the informality of breakfast allowed her to manage that, thought Georgette. It appeared that Onslow’s gaze, dazed as it seemed, was fixed on Julia’s. Miss White smiled at him several times, but he did not respond. She let her eyes drop in maidenly modesty at the fixedness of the stare. Seeing this, Georgette wondered if, after all, he’d found he could forgive Miss White. Lady Bailey exchanged a glance with Georgette, raising an eyebrow in Onslow’s direction, as if to say, is this a romance? Georgette gave a slight smile in response.
Somehow, though, she thought this missed the mark.
An alternate thought could not but intrude — that Onslow had divined Georgette’s guilt of last evening and was now repulsed by her behaviour. He had certainly not wished to be easy with her this morning. He held people to a high standard, she knew, as he held himself. Though he could be relaxed and amusing, he would despise any hint of the clandestine and distance himself from such a woman. This was not any special feeling towards herself, excepting, perhaps, the small bud of friendship they had begun — but only his desire to keep company with people he trusted. She understood. Julia had lost that trust, and now it seemed, perhaps Georgette had too. But this was a flight of fancy, surely? What, after all, could he know of last night’s conversation? She was refining to much upon his silence.
So. The marquis had simply changed his mind about Miss White, then. This was what she had desired at the start of his visit. But getting to know that lady better had made this empty scheme seem dangerous. Would not Julia White, for all her charm and beauty, make him unhappy?
Meanwhile, Bellamy was surrounded by guests who wished to hear more of India, and Sir Justin and Amethyst Bailey kept up a conversation with Georgette, who answered at random.
At last she went to escape to her mama’s sitting room as the guests went out to amuse themselves variously before the
archery tournament this afternoon. Colonel Bellamy’s eyes had seemed ever on hers, but he could not yet know of her retreat, so she deftly entered while his attention was claimed elsewhere.
She was about to draw the curtain over the window embrasure when a light tap alerted her to the entrance of someone. Lord Onslow was before her. She jumped up from her seat and stood. His demeanour was particularly grave. They stood thus, silent and serious for a moment. Georgette’s politeness had eluded her, and he did not speak. His eyes locked on her, those pale blue lights impaling her. It was perhaps sixty seconds before she realised he was holding something towards her. ‘Yours, I believe.’
‘Excuse me?’ she asked, automatically possessing herself of the small folded paper.
‘It fell from your lap as you left the table.’
‘I do not think—’ but she blushed, thinking of last night’s note, knowing this was not the same, but fearing its source. Bellamy must have dropped it on her knee as he passed her this morning. How ridiculous she felt. A child caught red-handed. She clutched it, then dragged her eyes from his and opened it. It read:
Not taken, but not yours, you said. Is it wrong that I still have hope?
‘Is it for you?’ Onslow asked, heavily.
Georgette was taken aback. Onslow did not usually intrude, or if he did, it was lightly. Why could he not help her pass this off as a triviality? Why was he standing so still, with his fists clenched? Even if he thought the worst of her, why would he not just distance himself? It would be easy to do in the rout of guests.
She blinked. ‘I think it was left for me. I had not previously seen it.’ She found her eyes were filling, and she could not meet his own.
A noise came from his throat. ‘Miss Fortune, forgive me if I distress you. Did you meet Colonel Bellamy last evening?’
‘I — Lord Onslow!’
‘Forgive me. I only ask as a friend. Your father would be disturbed if he knew that a gentleman prevailed upon you to see you alone.’
‘How do you know—?’ Georgette’s temper was beginning to win over her embarrassment. ‘You know my father well enough now to know that to be untrue. If he understood that Colonel Bellamy was both a man of fortune and showing interest, he would surely throw us together.’
Georgette and the Unrequited Love: Sisters of Castle Fortune Book 1 Page 13
