He was well aware, though, that if he could not explain some of this to her, she would likely not speak to him again, and that would be to leave her with only Justin for support. He had not thought to have a young lady as a friend, and she was such a friend to him in so few days. He had sworn off women after Julia, and he had kept his distance from unmarried females, including, at this party, both the Bailey girls and the Fortune sisters. Unmarried women should not be lightly led to have expectations. But through Justin’s easiness with Georgette Fortune, and after witnessing her at her unseen duties, he had warmed to her and felt himself safe. She was pretty and friendly (after a while) and had a teasing tone with him that he liked. He’d found a woman to be comfortable with. She was no rival for Julia and had known it, and her early plan to help Julia and him reconnect had thoroughly put any thoughts of her seeking him for herself to rest. He could relax. The remnants of Justin’s feelings, too, had led him at first to hope for his friend’s good fortune in that regard. But Georgette was simply friendly, and soon they had become a threesome who seemed to have been united for a long, long time.
Why did she flare up at him at the slightest excuse? He remembered his friend Bentley and his sister and their bickering, and supposed it was like that. But now he really had insulted her. The days of their continued acquaintance were numbered, and he must set it to rights somehow.
And as ever in these spurts of anger there was something else, something he did not understand. “After all this time, I am so tired of fearing Julia White,” she had said. After what time? These few days of the party? And what had she been fearing about Julia then? Or did she just mean the even fewer days since the arrival of Colonel Bellamy? No, for Bellamy’s courting of Miss White was but two days old.
Perhaps it referred to their seasons together in London. Julia White had been the queen of the Almacks, and had that made Georgette fear for her own swains? But no, Georgette Fortune was not of that nature. None of this made any sense. There were other things she’d said to him in their spats that had kept him up for hours. Something unexplained about her behaviour.
But what about his own behaviour? Even if he suspected Bellamy, he should not be ripping up at Georgette Fortune, his friend. He must apologise whenever he could come up with some explanation that would please himself.
Georgette re-joined the others, still spitting mad, but with manners enough to compose her features. Mr Bellamy and Amethyst welcomed her, and Sir Justin looked for his friend. ‘Onslow?’ he enquired quietly.
‘Lord Onslow forgot something he had to attend to,’ said Georgette with only a slight stiffness in her tone. ‘He begs that we will continue without him.’
Faster than Bellamy could manage, since Amethyst Bailey was holding onto his arm, Sir Justin went ahead with Georgette, offering a supporting arm at a rocky part of the road. She grasped it, they walked further ahead, and Faulkes took the opportunity to whisper to her. ‘Bonnet!’ She realised that it was still down her back. And began to raise her hands. ‘Not here! Let us keep a distance for the moment. Putting it on now will slow you down.’ She moved forward, and her hand on the bent raised arm of Faulkes squeezed gently in agreement. When they had gone far enough from the others, he said in a more normal, teasing tone. ‘Have you two argued again?’
Georgette looked up at him. ‘Do we do so frequently?’
Sir Justin’s kind eyes looked down on hers. ‘Lately, yes.’
‘I do not understand him. We were friends again and then—’ she shook her head in frustration.
‘Do you really not understand?’ asked the baronet.
Georgette looked up quickly. ‘What is your meaning?’
They had stopped, and Sir Justin looked down at her eyes, seeming to search for something. ‘No,’ he said, and she thought it was both sad and rueful, ‘I do not think you do understand.’ He smiled at her and added, ‘I don’t think Onslow does either.’ He looked to his left. ‘Adjust your bonnet!’ he ordered roughly, and Georgette, confused, did. Just as the others joined them.
‘Oh, Georgette,’ said Amethyst. ‘We were just discussing if we shall buy things at the market. Do you have plans?’
‘I shall buy meat for the feast tonight.’
‘Feast?’ asked Bellamy.
‘Well not an exotic feast such as the Indian feasts you have mentioned, sir. Just a — a — quiet kind of feast, such as we can offer at Fortune Castle.’
‘What is the occasion?’
‘The earl and countess leave tomorrow. Papa wishes to honour them.’
Bellamy swept forward, taking the place of Faulkes as soon as the baronet had reduced his stride a little. ‘A feast starts with a centrepiece. Do you have one planned, Miss Fortune?’
‘Oh, I think I have the headache,’ complained Georgette dramatically, ‘I have not gone that far.’
‘Centrepieces were a speciality at my Indian dinners. Let me make some suggestions—’
‘Fortune Castle has no exotic fruits and flowers—’ protested Georgette, laughing, ‘You will be no help to me at all!’
‘Pig’s head!’ said Bellamy. ‘With apple and the fruits and foliage of the Castle surrounding it!’
‘That could be achieved!’ said Georgette excitedly.
‘You must mount the head away from the platter to make a grand effect—’ They moved off from Amethyst and Faulkes and continued on their way to the market, talking animatedly.
Faulkes was both relieved and worried to see Georgette Fortune and Bellamy laugh together. It was good to see Miss Fortune’s panic in the colonel’s presence abate, but for other reasons it was unnerving. While Amethyst Bailey chattered on his arm, he watched them. He must find Lucian as soon as he returned, or he might live to suffer the consequence of his own lack of self-awareness.
His friends had no idea, and it was time that he made a push to help them, no matter how painful that might be.
Chapter 26
Returning to the castle, Georgette accepted Bellamy’s help in preparing for the feast. The twins had made the coronet for the female archery competition, and Georgette was sure it would fit Julia White’s head to perfection. They had been moved to add some white flowers, gentle Marguerite looking at her sister for compliments, which she freely gave.
‘Is Mr Carswell returned from the village, Georgie?’ asked Leonora.
‘I’m not sure Leo. Why do you ask?’
‘Oh, no reason. I’ll see him in a few years anyway.’
Georgette, distracted by the arrival of Mrs Scroggins in full war mode, approaching, did not even have time to wonder at this remark. ‘Ask Katerina if you wish to speak to Mr Carswell. Though I do not know why you should. Did he give you archery lessons or some such thing?’
‘No,’ said Leonora. ‘He has been avoiding me since I fell out of a tree on him.’
‘I beg—’ but Scroggins was upon her.
‘If you want your feast tonight,’ hissed the woman, ‘keep that man out of my kitchen.’
Georgette bustled after her, distracted while the twins tripped away. Stopping Bellamy marshalling the entire kitchen staff to produce his centrepiece was difficult, since it was obvious he was used to a household with a staff of hundreds. She took him apart and explained however, and he begged Mrs Scroggins’ pardon in fine form, and agreed to see to the work all on his own. Georgette laughingly objected, but when he remained adamant, she was relieved to have one chore taken from her.
The fish, meat and delicacies for tonight were well on their way, and Georgette barely had the face to remind Mrs Scroggins about the light refreshments for the archery tournament, but she did. Dickson appeared at that moment, and said he would deal with it and Georgette was able to escape Mrs Scroggins’ temper.
She was pursued by a screech of ‘Eggs!’ and supposed she must undertake that now too. Lady Ludlow? For Great Aunt Hester had already sent today’s eggs and may not have more. She grasped her pelisse and bonnet and changed her slippers for her half boots and set off. W
hen she went to the stables it transpired that Katerina had taken out Bessie and George had taken Falcon. She looked longingly at Thunder and Solomon and wondered if she could ask for permission to take one, for Ludlow Hall was too far to walk in time.
She had the tilbury put to, and reflected that it would be easier to carry the eggs if she was in a carriage.
Faulkes found his friend on the battlements of the castle, a crumbling facsimile of its powerful past. In a touch of romantic imagination, Faulkes thought of the battlements crowded with archers in chain mail, and perhaps some great cauldrons of hot oil in pivoted stands, ready to strike at the enemy below.
He looked now at his friend’s back, taut as he had been before battle, and sighed. How he was to deal with this he had not quite imagined. But, after seeing Miss Fortune assuaging her hurt and anger in Bellamy’s company, he must do something.
‘Over your fit of the sullens, Lucian?’
Onslow’s fair head turned, the wind blowing his locks. He looked over his shoulder. ‘You heard? Miss Fortune told you?’
‘She did not. I guessed when you did not return. And then she too was angry, but trying to disguise it.’ Onslow turned fully towards him and he finished, ‘as well as her hurt.’
‘I hurt her?’ Onslow said, looking away. ‘Yes, I seem to do that. I don’t understand why.’ His voice was bleak, distant.
‘No, my deluded friend. And neither does she. What did you do this time?’
‘I asked her if it was an arranged meeting with Bellamy.’
‘Lucian!’ gasped Faulkes. ‘You accused her of that? No wonder she was angry.’ He took a breath. ‘Why on earth would you do so? And why would you even think so? You know it is not true.’
‘I know that now. You don’t have to chide me, I have chided myself for you. I cannot understand why I did it. I seemed to lose all rationality—’
‘Yes. What next will your jealousy have you do to her?’
Onslow’s head whipped up. ‘What did you say?’ his tone was thunderous, ‘You accuse me of having underhand motives on Miss —’
‘Oh, give it up Lucian! Of course not.’ Faulkes laughed. ‘I know you don’t know that you are jealous.’
‘Jealous? Why would I be jealous?’ His voice, when he spoke again, was dangerous. ‘I know what jealousy feels like, and it is not this. This is concern for a person I care about, like a little sister, perhaps. You know, Justin—’
‘The jealousy you felt for Miss White was not like this, was it Lucian? She had punctured the heart of the great Marquis of Onslow, but you were half expecting it. This is different, because she is different. This time at risk is a woman of quality — that is why you feel this murderous rage towards Bellamy.’
‘Yes, I’m afraid for her. Very afraid, because no matter what he feels, he is dangerous. I do not want such a sweet child to give herself so innocently to such a man for life. What if he were to lose that hot flash of passion? What thought will he give to her life then?’
‘I know. I don’t trust him either.’
‘You see — it is not jealousy. I have never thought of her in that way—’
‘Then how do you think of her, my friend?’
‘As the woman that you picked for a wife, and therefore as a woman I would not think of.’
‘Ah, so that is it?’ asked Faulkes, but he was laughing. ‘Don’t use me as an excuse! The business between Miss Fortune and me was settled two years ago and more.’ He turned away a little as he added, ‘And I would have given a king’s ransom had she looked at me as she looks at you, Lucian.’
Onslow looked stunned. ‘That is because — because — we have always understood each other.’
‘Always,’ said Sir Justin ruminatively, turning his gaze on his friend again. ‘She said that to me. She said: I have always understood him, except when we argue.’ He looked at Onslow’s eyes, which were darting around, as though picking up pieces of a puzzle. ‘Always. I thought it a strange expression to use when you have not known each other two weeks.’
Onslow’s eyes met his. ‘It is strange. But I seem to know—’
‘Yes, as I never did,’ Faulkes said sadly. ‘You seem to know her. But that term reminded me of a moment in a ballroom when I approached Georgette Fortune two years since. She was very still, and her eyes were on the ballroom floor, following something. I looked across, and I saw that she looked at Miss Julia White. Miss White was wearing the yellow satin that evening, and I thought perhaps that Miss Fortune was admiring the gown...’ Onslow’s eyes were devouring his, and the marquis seemed to be holding his breath. Faulkes continued ‘… but her eyes were so sad, so raw with emotion, that I knew it was something else. I could not think what exactly until this morning, when I saw you look at each other and finally understood. You were dancing with Miss White that dance, Lucian. That night, at the ball, I mistook the direction of Miss Fortune’s eye.’
Onslow was very still. It looked to the baronet like a hundred new puzzle pieces were jostling for position in his head.
‘It cannot be. She wanted me to be with Julia. She tried to throw us together, even.’
‘Because she wanted your happiness, Onslow. She left town before she heard about Southwaite and that whole rotten business. She thought you and Miss White loved each other.’
‘But if she feels something for me—’
‘Don’t you know who she is? Seeking the contentment of others before her own—’
Onslow’s chest heaved. ‘I cannot be jealous!’
Faulkes shrugged and smiled. ‘Then you will not mind that Bellamy has been comforting her for the last few hours and is now engaged in helping her with the wretched feast the baron ordered.’
‘What?’ Onslow said, jerked to attention.
‘And the best of it is, she didn’t seem repulsed at all. Just relaxed and…’ Faulkes put his hand over his heart affectingly and added dramatically ‘…so grateful.’
‘Where is she?’ The marquis looked murderous and Sir Justin laughed.
Justin looked past him over the battlements. ‘I think that is she in that tilbury, I recognise the bonnet. She’s heading north.’
‘Not to her great-aunt’s, then!’ Onslow paused, then continued in a determined spirit, ‘Stay here, Justin, and follow her route with your eyes. I’ll follow on Thunder, but you must point me the way.’
Justin grinned as his friend ran toward a turret staircase. ‘Will you be able to see me from here?’
Onslow stopped in his tracks and handed his friend a scrap of red cotton. ‘Hold your hand in the correct direction with this!’ he said of the handkerchief. He was away in an instant, and Faulkes laughed at his departing figure, wondering if he could succeed in his impossible task. Faulkes, just noticing the effects of a north wind, took his post at the battlements, smiling a sad smile.
Georgette, trying to stop the replay of Onslow’s insufferable and inexplicable behaviour from running in her head the hundredth time, was pleased to find the Ludlows from home since the housekeeper gladly dispensed the eggs, sure that her mistress would have no objection since they had a glut. She was glad to have avoided the kind Lady Ludlow, for she had not yet sent the promised invitation to dinner. She would do so tomorrow, but she feared the Ludlows would be disappointed to have missed an earl.
Thanking the housekeeper, Georgette took the same road through the Castle grounds, but had to pull her reins back sharply as she heard the thundering of a horse, at full canter, almost upon them. She recognised Thunder in a second, and froze her face as she settled her startled horse between the shafts.
Thunder’s master was down from his back and leading him towards the tilbury in a determined manner, and Georgette sought to curb the fury in her. He had said not a word in apology, and was squeezing past the carriage, horse trailing, until he reached the rear. Her horse calm, she might have driven off, but her need to say her piece in a dignified manner overcame her. She heard movement and turned her head to see him attach Thunder’s r
eins behind.
‘Onslow!’ she cried, but he had scrambled up beside her now, and took the reins from her slackened grasp. ‘What—?’
‘We need to talk. Is there a space somewhere that we will be unseen?’
‘Unseen?’ her fury knew no bounds. Did he think she would go anywhere with a gentleman unescorted?
‘I know!’ he said as though beginning a great idea, ‘I passed a little copse. We’ll stop there and hide the carriage.’
Hide? His voice was determined, and she did not know how to answer this outrage except by another impotent exclamation, and she was too proud for that. She wanted to have it out moreover, and she would welcome a place where she could let him know how angry she was, where she could, in a dignified and superior manner, show him what a dimwit and suspicious clod he was. And it was Onslow. Her person was at no risk from Onslow. If they were to be locked up together for a year alone, she would still be at no risk from Onslow! She was not a woman, but perhaps a sister to him. And he was beginning to behave like her annoying older brother George — arrogant and impulsive and insulting and—. But they had stopped, and Onslow dismounted, holding out his hand imperiously to aid her descent. She availed herself of a squab and the metal support at the other hand and got down without his help.
‘Still angry?’ he asked, a laugh in his voice.
She looked up, furious. She had been going to freeze him with ice, but how dare he laugh down at her like that? They were in a pretty little clearing, surrounded on all sides. It was about the size of her mother’s small sitting room, and she felt no fear, though this be the first occasion in her life she was alone with a man so far from home. She was too angry for fear. His annoying smile stopped her words.
‘I have been a jackass, have I not?’ he asked, winningly.
Georgette, who had been eager to tell him that and worse, could not speak. His warm tone and smile was throwing her off, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d melt entirely. ‘Yes,’ she said in a small voice.
‘And a bounder! And a suspicious idiot lacking in any form of good manners.’
Georgette and the Unrequited Love: Sisters of Castle Fortune Book 1 Page 21
