Fortunately the support posts had already been placed, leaving nothing for Colin and Ryland but the mindless setting of boards and hammering of nails.
They put up three sections of crossbeams in silence, and then, “One of my horses went on an interesting journey recently.”
Colin slid another board into the notch on the support post. What amazing patience the man had that he could wait two weeks before bringing up Colin’s trip to Cheshire. Colin had been beginning to wonder if Ryland even knew he’d borrowed the horse. “Thank you for that. I had urgent business to attend that couldn’t be delayed.”
Ryland handed Colin a nail. “Yes, I know. In Cheshire.”
Colin placed the nail against the wood and tapped it in enough to hold its place.
“Interesting how Ashcombe also had to hie off to Cheshire, isn’t it?”
Colin missed the nail entirely, banging his hand into the fence post and sending his hammer flying through the air.
Leaving his hand on the post for support, Colin turned to glare at Ryland. “What are you implying?”
“That Hugh Carson is a fine manager.” Ryland picked up the hammer and held it toward Colin. “I’ve tried to hire him away from Ashcombe myself.”
Colin took the hammer and pounded the nail in with a satisfying thud. His friend was too perceptive by half. How had he known about the position in Glasgow? “Your network is reaching far these days.”
He shrugged. “I like to know what’s going on in the country.”
The sentence lacked a note of finality, so Colin looked to Ryland’s face, trying to find the unsaid meaning.
Ryland didn’t leave him searching long. “And in my own home.”
Colin sighed. “Let me guess, the stained-glass shepherd is in your employ as well? Or perhaps that atrocious statue of Socrates told you.”
The grin that crossed Ryland’s face was boyish in its note of victory.
With a groan, Colin hung his head in shame. He’d fallen for a simple trick he often employed himself. Ryland had known nothing. He’d simply gone fishing and Colin had taken the bait.
Ryland lifted another board. “I’ve a staff of former spies, Colin. Did you really think they wouldn’t tell me when you and she spent upwards of an hour alone in the library? I must admit I’m surprised she’d step foot in the library of her own volition. She’s never shown much affinity for the written word.”
Colin focused on the nail. He wasn’t about to let that secret slip. It was possible Ryland had figured it out on his own. He had spent months hiding out among the family’s staff last year. Unless he said the words directly, though, Colin would assume the other man knew nothing. No matter how much he wanted Georgina to share her secret with her family, it was still her secret.
“Will you be considering me her closest male relative, or should we send word to Griffith?”
Colin hit the nail so hard it bent sideways, burrowing uselessly into the wood.
Ryland shot a questioning glance between the nail and Colin.
As if he could talk marriage right now. He wasn’t even sure Georgina ever planned to speak to him again. Colin grunted. “Even the most conservative Englishman reads.”
“Reads.”
“That is what normal people tend to do in a library, is it not?”
“I haven’t a clue what normal people do.” Ryland whacked his own nail into the board. “But you’ll never convince me Georgina was in that room for a book.”
Colin normally delighted in the rare occasion that Ryland was wrong about something. In this case, it was too dangerous to crow over his misconception. Georgina had been in the library for the very specific purpose of finding a book. A specific book. But he couldn’t tell his friend that. “Let’s just build a fence, shall we?”
One strike of his hammer set the nail, and another sent it to its new home in the fence. At least someone was going to benefit from his frustration.
Harriette crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot on the floor. “Should I pull out a dress for dinner, or will the effort be wasted as it was this morning and this afternoon?”
Georgina winced at the derision in her friend’s voice. Harriette had been uncommonly patient with Georgina as she roamed the room in her gown and wrapper all day. She’d said nothing when Georgina rang for a tray for breakfast and again for luncheon.
She wasn’t going to be quiet much longer. If Georgina didn’t tell her about the library soon, Harriette was going to start prying.
“Perhaps we should simply ring for a dinner tray. Is there really any point to dressing this late in the day?” She’d deliberately stayed in her nightclothes so she wouldn’t give in to the urge to leave her room and find Colin.
“Only if you want Lady Miranda delivering the tray herself to see what the matter is.”
Georgina frowned. Harriette was right. Then again, she usually was. “I’ll go down to dinner.”
Her agreement didn’t mean she was happy about it though. She took her time dressing and swept into the drawing room at the latest acceptable moment, calling on every acting skill she’d developed.
“You’ve decided to grace us with your presence, I see.” Miranda crossed the room to kiss Georgina on the cheek. It was so much better than the pecks on the head they used to give her. Was there anything more condescending than a kiss on the head?
Marshington patted her on the head. “Sleep well?”
Georgina considered growling.
Colin sipped his drink across the room, watching her with a million questions in his eyes. Questions she wasn’t prepared to answer, no matter how much time she’d spent thinking today.
Everything churned around in her brain until she didn’t know which way was up anymore. Three times today she’d been sure she knew what she wanted to do, but she’d changed her mind before she could do more than remove her wrapper to change dresses.
“Dinner is served, Your Grace.”
Praise God for good timing. Georgina headed for the door, wondering at the ease with which she’d thanked God. Her whole life she’d avoided giving Him too much credit for the things that happened in her life, afraid the blessings would be overshadowed by the overwhelming judgments, punishments she’d somehow earned as an infant.
She still wasn’t convinced He wanted anything to do with her. He could just as easily have been saving Colin from an awkward conversation with the timely dinner announcement.
“Good evening.” Colin offered his arm to escort her in to dinner, his look still seeking, more open and hopeful than she’d seen him in a long time.
Blood rushed through her ears, and her fingers turned cold. What if she failed him?
She gave him her most practiced, perfect smile, determined to make it through dinner.
The mask that fell over his face cut her to the bone. She’d forgotten that he knew about her practiced motions, her careful movements. And he disapproved of them all.
Thankfully, eating would keep them busy for the duration of dinner. The other three could have whatever conversation they wished. She would eat enough to avoid questions about her health and then excuse herself for the evening.
“Georgina, have you seen the library in the afternoon? The sun through the stained glass is quite breathtaking.” Marshington wasn’t looking at her as he slid his soup spoon into his mouth, but she felt him staring at her anyway.
A glance around the table revealed that only Colin’s eyes were trained on her.
“Yes,” Georgina blurted. “I had the chance to see it yesterday. It’s truly wonderful what the right sun does to the room.”
Miranda blinked at her. “You were in the library?”
“Er . . . yes.” Georgina stuffed an uncouth amount of soup into her mouth. The problem with soup was it required the diner to do little more than swallow. As a delaying tactic it was sadly lacking.
“I can suggest some books if you’d like. Several of my favorites are in the collection here.” Miranda looked nearl
y giddy with the idea of taking Georgina on a literary tour.
The idea made her stomach clench. She set her spoon aside. “That won’t be necessary. I found what I was looking for.”
Colin looked up. “You did?”
She should have chosen her words more carefully. Now he thought. . . . What did he think? Did he think she was referring to the kiss? The Bible? The closeness they’d shared on the couch as he read?
For that matter, what was she referring to when she said she’d gotten what she needed? It was hard to say that Colin was thinking the wrong thing when in a way Georgina had been looking for all of those things.
She just hadn’t known it. As the soup was cleared, Georgina looked into Colin’s eyes. Suddenly everything seemed so simple. It was clear that Colin didn’t find her lacking in anything. He was probably right that her family would still love her if they knew. And the fact of the matter was that God had made her the way she was. He’d given her this imperfection, this problem.
Didn’t that mean He would accept her as she was? If all that was left at the end of time was God and what He willed, didn’t that mean her shortcoming wasn’t folly? That it didn’t make her unwanted?
She looked around the table at the curious faces. How long had the table been silent? How long had she been reflecting? “Yes,” she said looking at her sister, then Marshington, and finally settling on Colin. “Yes, I think I found exactly what I was looking for.”
Chapter 31
Colin’s suggestion of a card game after dinner had seemed inspired to Georgina at the time. After all, one wasn’t supposed to talk much while playing cards. But with her mind elsewhere, it wasn’t long before the men were winning by enough points to make continuing the game laughable.
“Let’s do a reading.” Miranda tapped her hands repeatedly on the edge of the table, excitement nearly rolling off her. “I was reading the most marvelous book today, and there was a passage that begged to be reenacted.”
She trotted across the room to pick up a slim volume from the seat by the window. “It’s the perfect number of parts, though we’ll have to pass the book back and forth, as I only have the one copy.”
Georgina turned to find Colin staring at her. He was waiting to see what she would do. Never would there be a better moment. She could tell Miranda the truth and end the charade now.
A movement to her right caught her eye and she saw Marshington sit back in his chair, switching his attention from her to Colin and back again. Somehow he knew there was a silent conversation going on.
You can tell her.
Georgina tried to shove Little Colin into a mental closet. This was her decision, not his.
I know. I just want you to make the right one.
She looked up into the real Colin’s eyes.
It’s safe. I’m here.
Somehow she knew it wasn’t the imaginary Colin that time, but the real one. He was asking her to trust. To give them a chance. To believe there was something more to life than the vain pursuit of wealth and popularity.
Miranda brought the book back to the table and laid it open on the surface. “Here, Georgina, you can do the part of Isabel.”
And in that moment she knew she couldn’t do it.
“What’s the point of doing a reading when there isn’t an audience?” The derision dripping from Georgina’s voice almost made her cringe. She couldn’t look at Colin, didn’t dare.
Miranda blinked. “We’ll be our own audience. It really is a splendid scene, even if you haven’t read the rest of the book.”
It was so tempting. To break the chain and tell them all.
Marshington leaned over to look at the book. “That does look amusing.”
Georgina’s own glance at the book brought her crashing into reality. It didn’t look amusing to her. It didn’t look like anything to her. The refinement of her station, where accomplished women were to be well-read and perform plays and spend their evenings doing literature readings, and she couldn’t even make out the part she was supposed to play.
“It doesn’t look like Isabel has many lines,” Colin said.
I’ll help you. We’ll do it together. Little Colin held her mental hand, interpreting the underlying meaning of Colin’s words.
She could do it now, could create a circle of people with whom she didn’t have to be on guard. Yesterday afternoon in the library had been so freeing. To be with someone and not keep any secrets, to be herself, even if all she’d done was sit and listen.
Well. That wasn’t all she’d done.
It can be like that every day. You don’t have to tell the world—just tell your family. They’ll protect you.
“It looks foolish.” Georgina choked on the words even as they spilled from her mouth. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell them. It was too scary. The what if was too strong.
What if they called her simple?
What if they didn’t understand?
What if they told her she just wasn’t trying hard enough?
What if she was wrong? What if God didn’t accept her with the shortcoming He’d given her? What if that was the very reason He’d given it to her? And while wealth and status may be folly, they were better than nothing.
What if God didn’t replace wealth and status with something else if she let go?
She’d have nothing. If Colin was wrong and her family offered her nothing but pity . . . then she would have nothing.
She waited for Little Colin to say something. To tell her she was wrong. To say the words to give her assurance and courage.
But Little Colin was more than silent. He was gone.
Her eyes flew to her left, looking at the real Colin. He was looking quietly down at his fingernails.
She’d lost him. Her secret remained intact but at the expense of his friendship. There would be no more passionate kisses, no more cuddled readings. It wasn’t fair for him to hang their relationship on this. Wasn’t it enough that he knew?
He rose from the table. “Since the reading is not going to happen, I think I’ll retire early. Good evening.”
As his footsteps echoed down the corridor, an ache settled in Georgina’s stomach. If she’d managed to protect everything, why did it suddenly feel as if she’d lost it all?
Colin didn’t sleep. He packed his bag and then lay on his bed staring at the ceiling until dawn peeked in through his uncovered window.
He was waiting in the breakfast room, dressed in traveling clothes, when Ryland entered, dressing gown thrown over his trousers and white lawn shirt.
Ryland’s blink of surprise told Colin how shocked his friend was to find him up and about. “Going somewhere?”
Colin drummed his fingers on the table, praying he wasn’t making a rash decision for emotional reasons. He’d prayed while he stared at the ceiling in his bedchamber, and this decision had brought him the closest he’d come to peace in a long time.
Ryland sat at the table, waiting in silence for Colin to speak.
With a deep breath, Colin made his decision final. “I’m going home.”
If Colin expected Ryland to display shock or surprise at the statement, he was doomed to disappointment.
“I have to say it’s about time.” Ryland busied himself fixing a cup of tea.
Colin took his turn sitting back in stunned silence. “About time?”
“How long has it been? Five years? Six?”
“Five.” Colin grunted. Five very long years. He narrowed his eyes at Ryland. “You’re one to talk. You avoided your family for nearly a decade.”
“Quite rightly, as it turns out. My aunt tried to kill me when I came back.” Ryland nodded at the footman who delivered a plate piled high with eggs, toast, and a hash Colin knew was particularly delicious. He’d already had two servings himself.
Ryland pointed his fork in Colin’s direction. “Your father is unlikely to attempt murder.”
No, he leaned toward attempted ruin.
Not that he could ruin Colin
anymore. Or even the rest of the family. Colin had seen to that.
Colin sat forward, turning so that one arm lay across the table and he could look Ryland straight in the eye. “You think it a good idea for me to return home? You think things have changed?”
“Doubtful.” Ryland took a bite of hash and chewed slowly.
Colin slumped into his chair. It was doubtful anything had changed. Though Colin owned part of Celestial Shipping, he’d limited his involvement in the business. His father’s life would be running similar to how it always had, just without the complication of a son suggesting new ventures, practices, and customers.
Ryland swallowed and took a sip of tea. “But you have.”
Colin’s brows drew together. “Me?”
“You don’t need Celestial Shipping.”
Colin sat back confused. “What do you mean?”
“If you were to stop working right now, never open another crop report, cash out your investments, and set yourself up to live off a bank account somewhere . . . would you run out of money?”
“Only if I lived very foolishly.” Colin took his fork and pushed around the remnants of his own breakfast.
“Precisely. When we met, you were a boy trying to save the family business.” He shrugged. “Now you’re a man.” He took another sip of tea.
Colin smirked. Ryland’s flair for the dramatic was certainly growing. “I’m but a year younger than you. Are you implying that you were still a boy when we met?”
The duke lifted an arrogant brow. “I’d been spying on Napoleon for four years by that point. One grows up quickly in that sort of life. The fact remains that you no longer need Celestial Shipping.”
Ryland fell silent as the truth of that statement hit Colin in the heart. He didn’t need Celestial Shipping, not the way his father did or even the way his mother and sister did.
What he needed was his family.
Georgina watched from her window as Colin got into one of Ryland’s traveling coaches. That was it, then. She’d known it was, had come to the realization that he was right somewhere around two in the morning. He couldn’t be with her while her secret held such power over her. It would always be between them, and he would grow to resent it if he didn’t already.
An Elegant Façade (Hawthorne House Book #2) Page 32
