by Julia Quinn
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not, Mama. I’m really not.”
“You are an adult, and you are having dinner with the adults, and that is final.”
Georgie stared at her mother.
Her mother stared back.
Georgie gave in. Or maybe she gave up. “Fine.”
“Good.” Her mother pulled the door open. “This will be good for you. You’ll see.” She started to exit, but then Georgie stopped her.
“Mama?”
Lady Bridgerton turned around.
Georgie realized she didn’t know why she’d called out. Somehow, despite all the ways her mother had been driving her absolutely batty—she just hadn’t been ready to let her go.
“Do you think . . .”
Georgie went quiet. What did she want to know? What would help? Anything?
Her mother waited, quiet. Patient.
When Georgie finally did speak, her voice was small. Not weak, but small. And tired. “Do you think that somewhere there is a society where men can’t do things like this to women?”
Her mother went still, which to Georgie seemed odd, because it wasn’t as if she’d been moving before. But somehow the stillness spread. From her body to her eyes to her very soul.
“I don’t know,” her mother said. “I hope so. Or at least I hope there will be.”
“But not now,” Georgie said. They both knew it was the truth. “Not here.”
“No,” her mother said. “Not yet.” She turned to go, then paused to look back over her shoulder. “You will come to dinner?”
It was a request, not an order, and Georgie felt an unfamiliar prick of tears behind her eyes. Not the tears—those were familiar. She’d cried a lifetime’s worth of tears in the past few weeks. Tears of sorrow, of frustration, of rage.
But this was the first time in a long time she’d felt gratitude. It was amazing how nice it felt to be asked rather than told. To have someone recognize the fact that she was a human being and deserved the right to make her own choices, even if it was about something as trivial as dinner.
“I’ll be there,” she told her mother.
She might even enjoy herself.
She picked up one of the cats as her mother left the room. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t going to enjoy herself. But she supposed she could try.
Chapter 4
Georgie was trying to decide just how long she could put off heading downstairs after dressing for dinner when what sounded like a small herd of lead-footed foxes ran past her room.
She grinned. For real. Her nephews were here.
She bounded off her bed and pulled open the door just as her sister-in-law walked by. Violet immediately pivoted and bustled into the room, baby Colin in her arms. “Georgie!” she exclaimed. “It is so good to see you. How are you? Tell me everything. What can I do?”
“I—Well . . .” Where to start?
“Here. Hold the baby, would you?” Violet thrust Colin forward, and Georgie had no choice but to take him.
He immediately began to scream.
“I think he’s hungry,” Georgie said.
“He’s always hungry. Honestly, I don’t know what to do with him. He ate half of my meat pasty yesterday.”
Georgie sent a horrified look at her little nephew. “Does he even have teeth?”
“No,” Violet replied. “He just gummed the whole thing down.”
“You little monster,” Georgie said affectionately. Colin gurgled, clearly judging this to be a compliment.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t been over,” Violet said. “Colin was ill, nothing too serious, but he was coughing, and it was just a terrible sound, hoarse and barky. I didn’t want to leave him.”
“It’s all right, Violet,” Georgie assured her. “Your children must come first.”
“Also, your mother said you wanted to be alone.”
“She wasn’t wrong.”
“Four weeks of being alone is enough, though, I think. Don’t you?”
“We’ll find out tonight.”
Violet smirked at that. “Has everyone else arrived? What am I saying? I don’t even know who is coming.”
“Billie and George. Lord and Lady Manston. Andrew and Poppy, perhaps?”
“No, they’re visiting her family in Somerset. One of her brothers just got married.”
“Oh, I hadn’t realized.”
Violet shrugged. “I don’t know which one. She has so many of them. I can’t imagine having such a big family.”
As if on cue, Anthony and Benedict ran past the doorway, their nurse in hot pursuit.
“Three does seem to be a handful,” Georgie said.
Violet flopped down in a chair. “You have no idea.”
Georgie smiled. She knew Violet wouldn’t trade motherhood for anything. Honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised if she and Edmund decided to extend their family beyond their current three boys. Her sister-in-law was always harried but always happy. It lifted Georgie’s spirits to see her, even as it occurred to her that this was something she was now unlikely to have in her own life.
Freddie Oakes had seen to that.
“I’m trying to decide who he looks like,” Georgie said, bobbing baby Colin in her arms. He didn’t have much hair yet, but it looked like it was coming in darker than Violet’s dark blond locks.
“Edmund. They all look like Edmund.”
“No, I don’t think so. I think all three are a combination of both of you.”
“You’re very kind, but I know the truth.” Violet sighed dramatically. “I’m but a vessel for the Bridgerton family.”
Georgie laughed out loud. “Honestly, I think they mostly look like each other.”
“They do, don’t they?” Violet smiled to herself. “A matched set. I don’t know why that makes me so happy.”
“Me too.” Georgie held Colin out a few inches for a better look at his face. “Look at those cheeks,” she said. “And his eyes. I think his eyes are going to be green.”
“The color of gluttony,” Violet muttered.
“Not envy?”
“That, too.” She shuddered. “He never stops eating.”
Georgie grinned and kissed Colin’s nose. “Is it too much to ask for one of you to favor your Aunt Georgie and come out a little bit gingery? Just a little? I could use another redhead in the family.”
“Lone wolf that you are,” Violet quipped. “I thought redheads were supposed to have tempers.”
“Alas, no. I am a model of serenity.”
Violet pointed a finger in Georgie’s direction. “Mark my words, Georgiana Bridgerton. Someday you’re going to explode, and when you do, I don’t want to be anywhere nearby.”
“Not even to watch?”
“Only if it’s not directed at me.”
Georgie looked back at the baby. “Do you think your mother could ever make me that angry? No? I don’t think so, either.”
Colin burped and pitched forward, almost causing Georgie to lose her balance. By the time she had a firm grip on him again he was gnawing on her shoulder. “I really think he’s hungry,” she said to Violet.
“Eh.” Violet waved a hand.
“I can’t believe you,” Georgie said with a laugh. “When Anthony was a baby you fussed over him like he was made of porcelain.”
“I didn’t know any better. They’re really quite sturdy.”
Georgie smiled at her little nephew. “Well, I think you’re adorable,” she told him. He grinned back.
“He smiled at me!” Georgie exclaimed.
“Yes, he’s quite charming when he wants to be.”
“I didn’t know babies could smile at this age.”
“Anthony didn’t. Benedict . . .” Violet frowned. “I don’t remember. Does this make me a terrible mother?”
“You could never be a terrible mother.”
“You’re too kind, and I do love you for it.” Violet stretched out her arm, but when Georgie walked over she realized her
sister-in-law wasn’t reaching for the baby. Instead she took Georgie’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “You were born with a sister,” Violet said, “but I wasn’t. I hope you know that’s what you are to me now.”
“Don’t.” Georgie sniffled. “You’re going to make me cry, and I’ve done far too much of that already.”
“If it makes you feel better, you don’t look as if you’ve been crying.”
“You didn’t see me last week.” Georgie tipped her head toward the open door. She thought she heard voices. “It sounds as though people are arriving. We should go down soon.”
Violet stood and took Colin from her. “Edmund told me a little of what happened,” she said as she led the way to the nursery. “I have never seen him so angry. I thought he would call Mr. Oakes out.”
“Edmund would never be so stupid,” Georgie said.
“You’re his sister,” Violet said, “and your honor has been impugned.”
“Tell me he didn’t use the word impugned.”
“It was something considerably more profane.”
“That sounds more like my brother,” Georgie said with a roll of her eyes. “And he needs to learn that I can fight my own battles. In fact, I did.”
Violet’s eyes lit with glee. “What did you do?”
Georgie gathered her skirts just high enough to show Violet the exact motion she’d used to knee Freddie Oakes in the ballocks.
“And you say you don’t have a temper,” Violet said. “Good for you. Did he cry? Please tell me he cried.”
He did, but not half so much as Georgie had the following day, when she realized that the only way to save her reputation was to marry the man who’d abducted her.
“What happened next?” Violet asked.
Georgie followed her into the nursery. “I tied him up.”
“Brava,” Violet said admiringly. She handed Colin off to the nurse, then poked her head back out into the hall. “Anthony! Benedict! Now!” Then, barely missing a beat, she pulled Georgie aside. “Then what happened? I’m feeling particularly bloodthirsty.”
“I climbed out the window.”
“Resourceful.”
Georgie gave a modest nod although in truth she was insanely proud of herself for having escaped.
“But couldn’t you have just gone out the door?”
“We were on the ground floor, so it wasn’t quite as awful as it might have been. And there were some rough looking men in the inn. I didn’t want to go back through the front room by myself.”
“Good thinking,” Violet said approvingly. “Were you terrified? I would have been terrified.”
“I was,” Georgie admitted. “I didn’t even know where we were. All I knew was that we were heading north—he’d told me we were bound for Gretna Green—and that we’d been traveling for hours and hours.”
“Edmund said you were in Bedfordshire?”
“Biggleswade,” Georgie confirmed.
“Biggles-what?”
“It’s a village on the Great North Road. There are quite a few coaching inns there.” Georgie stretched her mouth into a flat, self-effacing line. “I know this now.”
Violet considered this. “I don’t suppose you ever had cause to travel north before.”
“I don’t suppose I did.”
“But wait . . . Edmund said you were saved by Lady Danbury of all people?”
“She was at the same inn. Heading north, but she turned around to take me back to London.” Georgie could not even begin to describe the relief she’d felt upon seeing Lady Danbury’s familiar face outside the inn. Lady D was a leader of the ton, and Georgie wasn’t sure she’d ever exchanged two words with her, but she’d practically thrown herself at her, begging her to intercede.
“I don’t know what I would have done without her,” Georgie said. Or more truthfully, she didn’t want to think about what might have happened without her.
“She terrifies me,” Violet said.
“She terrifies everyone.”
“But surely she’s not the reason everyone found out,” Violet remarked. “She would never spread such gossip.”
“No,” Georgie said bitterly. “Mr. Oakes took care of that. He told all of his friends when he returned to London—minus the part about my, er, unmanning him.”
“And tying him up.”
“No, not that part, either.”
Violet let out an appropriately sympathetic snort of disgust.
“But even if he hadn’t,” Georgie continued, “there was such a commotion in Berkeley Square when he pushed Marian out of the carriage. From what I understand, the gossip was all over town by nightfall.”
Violet ground her teeth together. “It makes me so angry I can’t even tell you. I have never struck another human being, you know, at least not on purpose, but if I saw that—that bastard—”
The nurse gasped.
“I would blacken his eye,” Violet said.
“Do you know,” Georgie said slowly, “I believe you would.”
Violet poked her head out the door again. “Anthony! Benedict!” She looked over at the nurse, who was still recovering from Violet’s uncharacteristically coarse language. “Do you happen to know where they’ve gone off to?”
The nurse shook her head.
Violet let out a sigh. “I’m sorry to leave you like this, but we’ve got to go down to dinner.”
“We can ask one of the footmen to hunt them down,” Georgie assured the nurse. “They know all the boys’ favorite hiding places.”
“I can’t possibly be paying that nurse enough,” Violet said once they were in the hall. She smoothed her dress, a royal blue round gown that complemented her eyes. “Do I look presentable?”
“You look beautiful.”
Violet pulled her chin toward her chest as she tried to examine her shoulders. “Are you sure? The baby spit up in the carriage. I was wearing a cloak, but . . .”
“You look perfect,” Georgie said. “I promise. And even if you didn’t, no one would care.”
Violet smiled gratefully. “I think I asked you already, but has everyone else arrived?”
“I think so?” Georgie said. She wasn’t certain. She’d heard at least one carriage in the drive, but she hadn’t looked out the window. It could have held two people or five. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Nicholas is coming.”
“Nicholas? Why? He’s not supposed to be here. He is in the middle of his examinations.”
“He’s obviously not in the middle of his examinations because he’s here in Kent. Mama told me this afternoon.”
“That’s very odd. I hope nothing is wrong. Edmund received a letter from him just last week, no, maybe a little before that, but still, he didn’t mention anything.”
Georgie shrugged as she followed Violet down the stairs. “I only know what Mama told me. And as far as I can tell, she only knows what his mother told her.”
“Pack of gossips, we are.”
“We are not,” Georgie said emphatically. “We are people who love and care about each other and are therefore logically interested in comings and goings. It is not at all the same as a pack of gossips.”
“Sorry,” Violet said with a wince. “There really ought to be a more benign word for people who love and care about each other and are therefore logically interested in the comings and goings.”
“Family?” Georgie suggested.
Violet let out a loud bark of laughter just as they entered the drawing room. Edmund handed her the glass of sherry he’d already poured for her with an amused smile. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” she said. “Everyone in this room, actually.”
He turned to Georgie.
“She’s right,” Georgie said.
“I may need to head back over to the less feminine side of the room,” Edmund joked.
“Oh, please,” Violet returned, linking her arm with his. “Don’t act as if you haven’t the numbers at home. It’s four against one.”
He kis
sed her hand. “You’re easily worth five of us.”
Violet looked over at Georgie. “I’m not sure that was a compliment.”
“I would take it as such, regardless of his intentions.”
“Good evening to you, too, sister,” Edmund said, offering Georgie his usual mischievous smile.
Georgie returned the gesture with a quick kiss on his cheek. “I take that back,” she said to Violet. “Disregarding his intentions presupposes that he had intentions. Most of the time when he speaks, the words just spew forth like . . .” She rolled her hands in front of her face in a rough approximation of a verbal tumbleweed.
“You are evil,” Edmund said approvingly.
“I learned from the best.”
“Yes, you did, didn’t you?”
“Has Nicholas arrived?” Violet asked. “Georgie mentioned he would be coming. Do you know why he’s home?”
Edmund shook his head. “Billie and George are here, but they said that Lord and Lady Manston and Nicholas are coming separately.”
George Rokesby was the heir to the earldom, and he and Billie also lived at Crake with their three children. Lord Manston often said that Billie was the finest thing to happen to the Rokesby family since they’d gained their title in 1672. She was passionate about farming and land management, and Crake’s agricultural output had nearly doubled in the decade since she’d married George.
Billie was quite a bit older than Georgiana, though, and while they’d never been terribly close, that seemed to be changing as Georgie moved further into adulthood. The nine-year age gap that had been so daunting when Georgie was sixteen was not such a huge thing at twenty-six.
“I should go greet Billie,” Georgie said, leaving Edmund and Violet to make their usual dove eyes at each other. It was hard sometimes to be around them. They were so much in love. Georgie had never met two people so obviously made for each other.
She loved them both, she really did, but tonight they were a reminder of all the things she would never have.
No husband. (Not unless she agreed to marry Freddie Oakes, and that wasn’t going to happen.)
No children. (One needed a husband for those.)
No everything else that followed.
But she did have more than most people. She had a loving family, and she never had to worry where her next meal might come from, and she supposed if she gave herself enough time to ponder it, she’d find some sort of new purpose in life.