Ann Lethbridge - Regency Society

‘Naturally you will stay with us,’ Jenny said at once. ‘How could it be otherwise? Shrewsbury House is closed up, though there are servants there to take care of it, but the lawyers have taken a room at the inn to entertain the countess’s neighbours. We had no intention of attending, but if you wish to make yourself known…’

‘Oh, no,’ Georgie said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘I would rather not. I am hardly dressed for it.’

‘No…’ Jenny threw a very odd look at her brother. ‘Shall you follow us to the house, Richard? I am not perfectly sure of your travelling arrangements.’

‘Georgie is travelling in a closed carriage,’ he told her, a gleam in his eyes. ‘I am riding—but have been travelling with her for some of the time. I was injured, you see.’

‘Good grief!’ Jenny looked shocked. ‘I begin to see why…but no matter. You shall tell me it all when we are home and comfortable.’ She tucked her arm into Georgie’s, giving her an encouraging look. ‘You may accompany me, my dear girl, and tell me everything. Edward, ride with Richard if you will, my dear.’

‘It may have escaped your memory, my dearest, but I came in the carriage with you. However, I shall ride on top with the coachman if you wish to be private with your new friend.’

There was a glimmer of mockery in his dark eyes, which Jenny seemed to accept without a flicker, her mouth curving in a smile of content, as if she were accustomed to having her way.

‘Yes, Edward, whatever,’ she said, dismissing his gallant offer as expected. ‘Come along, Georgie. I sense a mystery here, and you are going to tell me everything.’

Georgie heard the note of determination in her voice, and guessed that beneath her sweet manners and pretty smiles was a lady who knew how to get what she wanted. She quailed inwardly, for she sensed it would do her no good to lie, and she could only hope that Richard’s sister would not think her lost beyond all hope when she learned the truth.

‘Well.’ Jenny Maddison’s deep blue eyes lit with admiration as she heard Georgie’s tale through to the end. ‘I think you were exceptionally brave and did exactly as you ought—though it was a pity you did not come straight to Mary. She was a lovely lady, Georgie. It is a shame you did not know her better. I always wondered why you did not accept her invitation to stay last Christmas.’

‘Her invitation?’ Georgie stared at her, bewildered. ‘I did not receive an invitation last year—or ever to my knowledge.’

‘How can that be? I know she wrote to your uncle asking if he would send you to her. I believe he said that you were unwell and could not manage it at that time.’

‘I wasn’t ill,’ Georgie said, feeling a surge of indignation. ‘Oh, how could he tell such lies? He must have done it to make certain that I did not leave his house. Had I known my aunt wished to see me, I should have come at once. She did say that I would always be welcome in her letter to me, but I did not know she had asked for me. When I spoke to my aunt about the possibility of a visit, she told me that the countess was elderly and did not wish for visitors. I was not sure if she would take me in.’

‘I am sure she would have done so despite her health,’ Jenny told her. ‘Just a few days sooner and you might have seen her…’ She sighed. ‘Well, there is no point in crying over something that cannot be helped. The thing is, what are we to do about you now?’

‘I shall never return to my uncle’s house.’

‘No, of course not,’ Jenny said decisively. ‘That would be to play into his hands and cannot be thought of.’ Her cheek dimpled as she studied Georgie. ‘You know, you are very pretty—even beautiful if you were dressed in something suitable.’

Georgie blushed, but made no mention of the compliment in her reply. ‘I thought I might pay a respectable widow to bear me company once I have my inheritance.’

‘Well, you might, of course,’ Jenny said and gurgled with soft laughter. ‘On the other hand, you could be my guest. I have been a little down these past months, you see. I do not care for the winter and it took me a little time to get over the birth of my son so I have stayed at home for an age. However, Edward has promised to take me to Bath if I will take the waters.’ She pulled her soft mouth into a grimace of distaste. ‘I do not enjoy the prospect, but I shall enjoy being in company again. We shall take a house big enough for nurse and her assistant, besides Jemmy’s tutor and my maid, and Edward’s man, of course—and you, Georgie, my love. Richard too if he should care for it, though I dare say he will be off on some horrid business of his own before we know it. I have been nagging him for an age, you know. It is time he gave up all this dangerous stuff and settled down. He should think of providing me with a sister-in-law and a nephew or two, but he is stubborn and will not listen.’

Georgie looked at her in dawning delight. ‘Would you really let me live with you—visit Bath with you?’

‘I should like it above all things,’ Jenny told her in her engaging way. She clapped her hands, pleased with her solution, which, since it suited her, she imagined would please her family. ‘If you would like to be my friend, of course?’

‘Oh, it is exactly what I should like,’ Georgie said impulsively. ‘And so very kind. You do not know me. I might be a terrible person. Your brother thinks I am not always truthful since I lied to him at the start.’

‘Oh, brothers,’ Jenny said in a dismissive manner. ‘They are for ever on at one, telling one how to behave, at least until one marries.’ She looked thoughtful. ‘And after if they can get away with it. My dearest Edward will not allow anyone to bully me.’ A smile of content settled over her face. ‘He always wishes to please me and I know he will say it is just the thing to lift my spirits. You will want lots of clothes, I am sure, for even if we sent for your own things they would not do for Bath, you know. I have some things that you may borrow. I see that Richard has given you an old gown of mine that I left somewhere once. He might have bought you something new! It was very stingy of him!’

‘Oh, no,’ Georgie said, instinctively protecting him. ‘He has been very kind to me, Lady Maddison. You must not think otherwise. He fed me when I was hungry and then brought me all this way when I am sure he has other more important things to do.’

‘What could be more important than showing gallantry to a lady in distress?’ Jenny said. ‘I dare say he thought that gown would do—and it does look well enough for travelling. However, I shall find you something much better when we are home, and in Bath we shall commission only the finest of everything.’

‘I am not certain how much I am to inherit from my father,’ Georgie said a little uncertainly.

‘What can that signify?’ Jenny said, taking her breath away with her next words. ‘The countess was wealthy in her own right you know. The estate may go to a distant cousin of her husband, I dare say, for she said as much—but everything else is to come to you.’ Her eyes went over Georgie in a satisfied way. ‘You will be very rich, my dear—and, dressed as befits your consequence, you will take society by storm.’ She tapped a finger against her velvet muff, which hung from a chain made of moonstones and gold. ‘I am not sure whether it would not be better to open the house in London… that is where Richard found my gown, no doubt. He must have sent to the housekeeper, Mrs Maunders, for something.’

‘You must not go to so much trouble for my sake,’ Georgie said. ‘Your husband wishes you to take the waters for your health—besides, I suppose I ought to be in mourning for my aunt.’