Ever your loving friend,
Lilly Osbourne’
Georgiana folded up both letters and tucked them into her lace. She was not surprised to discover her friend’s attachment, but to be sent away! She felt it was harsh, but no less than mothers had been doing for centuries. At least Lilly had not been banished to a nunnery! Asking her to convey a letter to Charles Hailsham however, she felt was to put upon her a little. It was not quite right, to go against Mrs Osbourne, but then, where was the harm in a letter or two, especially if Mrs Osbourne was to soften a little, given time?
Henry had returned from Oxford, and now passed four days in London before removing to his father in Derbyshire and was expected to call today. She would ask him to deliver the letter; he was so condescending and kind, that she felt sure of his agreement. Perhaps she would ask his advice first, on the wisdom of the undertaking. She did not want to bring Mrs Osbourne’s censure on herself, or on Henry!
‘Who wrote to you, Georgie? Was it a beau?’ asked Julia curiously, petting Lumley on the carpet.
‘It is impolite to ask such questions, Julia. It might be private,’ admonished Georgiana, at once thinking of Captain Brandt, and blushing deeply despite herself. ‘It is no such thing; indeed, it is a letter from Lilly Osbourne. She has gone south to her cousins and wrote to tell me.’
Elizabeth looked up from her book but said nothing.
‘Pray don’t use such words as “beau”, Julia,’ added Mrs Hall in vinegar tones. ‘It is a vulgar expression. Your sister does not have a such a person, because she is too selfish to care about the feelings of others, and the future of this family!’
The injustice of this accusation prevented Georgiana from speaking for some moments, and shortly afterwards, she got up quietly and left the room. Really, it was too much to be censured from morning until night! Putting Lilly’s letter on the side table by her bed, to be answered after tea, she took up her book. She read an hour in her room, finding amusement and solace in the literary companionship of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and went down to the small parlour an hour later more composed than she had left it.
She was welcomed back into the room with disdainful silence from her mother and sat down for tea. Shortly after Gibby had poured for them, Henry was announced. Much fuss was made of their cousin; he was bade to sit and take some tea with them, and for about half an hour he gave them all his best stories, much to the disapprobation of Mrs Hall, who glanced at him coldly with half-closed eyes and said little to her dead husband’s nephew. But presently, he whispered to Georgiana, might he have a few moments in private with her? He wished to consult her on a matter of importance.
Georgiana, pleased to do her cousin any small kindness she might be capable of, agreed at once, and said in a loud voice, ‘Oh, Cousin, I found you a book in the small collection in the study, which you might like, on the Vauxhall gardens. It boasts some very fine drawings, which I think will interest you. Shall you come now and see it?’
Henry rose with alacrity, sending his aunt a quick glance, and Georgiana took up her walking stick and joined him. When they reached the study, Georgiana closed the door but not quite fully, in case her mother should accuse them of being secretive. Henry turned gravely to Georgiana and bade her to sit. Surprised, and anxious at his solemnity, she did so, and quietly waited to hear him.
‘My dearest Cousin,’ he began, ‘with the truest wish of doing you kindness, I have for some time now, been considering your position in this family, and the opportunities which may not come your way that other young women could expect. I do not intend to imply— that is, you must not mistake me, for I cannot bear to offend you, but with the events of the last week, it has been on my mind somewhat.’
‘What has been on your mind, Henry? I am at a loss to comprehend,’ exclaimed Georgiana, brows knitted closely in consternation. ‘Have I given you cause for worry? Mama will come around. She cannot remain vexed with me forever, you know!’
‘You mistake my meaning, dearest Georgie.’ He made a small noise with his tongue. ‘Devilish difficult, this proposing business! But I mean to say,’ he added, composing himself a little, ‘that if you wish it— I can but offer you little, compared to him, for I have presently only four hundred pounds per annum, but my prospects are very good; I may double my income in the next five years or so. And of course, there is the entailment. But rest assured, my dear cousin, I shall not turn any of your sisters out, when I inherit Loweston on my marriage. But would you not like to live the rest of your life at dear Loweston, as its mistress? What do you think of my idea? Is it not a very good one? But Cousin, are you ill? Can I get you something?’
Georgiana had slumped into her chair. Her demeanour had become pale. ‘Do I comprehend you correctly? I believe I have misunderstood you! You cannot mean—’
Henry came closer and took her hand. ‘We are not related by blood, only by marriage, and surely Georgie, you can see it is by far the best thing for you? Captain Brandt is right— you may never receive another offer worthy of you again! We have known each other all our lives! Does it not make sense? I do love and esteem you, dearest Cousin, and I shall make you as happy as a fellow can on four or five hundred a year!’
Georgiana pulled her hand abruptly from her cousin’s. ‘I am incredulous, that you could make fun of me, at such a time as this! And if, heaven forbid, you are serious, I shall never forgive you! Let me up!’
Henry, too shocked to offer his arm, stood back, his mouth agape.
Spurning her cane, she stood, and looked him in the eye coldly. ‘Never receive an offer again? How dare you! It is too much, after all I have shared with you, all I have relied upon you for! I asked nothing but the comfort and advice which a trusted friend might bestow!’
‘But, I did not mean—’
‘I have just refused one man, because I will not enter into a convenient marriage, where there is not mutual attachment of the strongest kind! And only last week you were making calf-eyes at Esme Osbourne!’
‘Well, yes, that is true, but I have given the matter much thought and it would make so much more sense to marry you!’
‘Your ideas and mine, of giving a matter “much thought”, and the time required for such a study, are quite different, I perceive!’ she noted drily. ‘Your sentiments, only last week, on my entering a union of convenience was unequivocally against such a scheme! Are you addled in the head, Henry Hall? If I shall not be tempted into marriage on the basis that no other offers will ever come to me, because of my limp, I certainly shall not then be tempted into another a week later, and upon the same supposition!’
The pinkish tones of Henry’s face now deepened in colour. ‘But you cannot be certain that you will ever receive another offer! You must face facts, Georgiana! As beautiful as you are, your limp does not recommend itself to polite society! No man of good breeding will want to show you off in any drawing rooms in London, or elsewhere! Be reasonable, Georgiana! I am offering you a home, an income, and a life away from my aunt! You would be foolish indeed to turn this down! You cannot afford to be proud, Georgiana! Ah, don’t be some pig-widgeoned fool! I am sorry if I have given offence, but marriage to me is by far the best you will ever do for yourself!’
The vase hit the wall behind his head with only a few hair-widths to spare. The resounding crash was followed by silence.
Henry glared at Georgiana. ‘My offer was meant sincerely. I have nothing more to say. You must do what you will. You always were a devilish headstrong girl, Georgiana.’ He pushed open the door and was gone.
Twelve
‘Henry? Henry proposed to you? But why? What could he want you for?’ Elizabeth stood in the centre of Georgiana’s room, her mouth open.
‘For a wife, if I am to believe he was not funning!’
‘Then I must say Mama will not be pleased to hear this development! Two suitors in less than two weeks, and both turned down! I shall not say how ungrateful I consider you, but how excessively shocking this all is! You are lu
cky it was only myself who overheard anything! Had Mama been near the door, you would not be so calm now!’
‘My dear Eliza, I am hardly calm! And please do not tell Mama! If she asks, just say Henry and I had a disagreement. It is true, after all. I could not bear more cross looks and cold silences from her than I must endure currently. She means to frighten me into acceptance of Captain Brandt. She might even try to make me accept Henry, if she knew. Please do stay silent on the matter!’
Elizabeth sniffed and considered. ‘I shall not mention it directly to Mama, but will it not be quite awkward, if Henry comes here again before he leaves? Mama will wonder what has happened, and what if Henry himself should tell her?’
‘I don’t believe there is much chance of that, Eliza, for you know Henry is not likely to confide in Mama. There is no want of dislike on either side, I believe! But— oh no! I have just thought of something! Something rather awkward. Oh dear, I do not see how it can be managed, after all!’ Georgiana’s brow furrowed.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Elizabeth impatiently.
Georgiana rose and retrieved the letter from Lilly. ‘Here.’ She held out the paper, and her sister took it up and ran her eye over it. ‘What has— La! What did she do? How excessively amusing!’ she smirked. ‘So Miss Osbourne is in love with Lieutenant Hailsham, is she? But what can that have to do with this?’
‘Read the whole, Eliza.’
Elizabeth finished the letter and folded it. ‘Well. I can see your difficulty.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Georgiana unhappily. ‘I must decline my friend’s request. I can hardly seek out Henry now. It would be very awkward indeed.’
Elizabeth paused. Her expression was thoughtful. ‘I can take the letter for you, if you like,’ she offered casually. ‘Your unfortunate disagreement with Henry is nothing do to with me! Henry cannot take umbrage if I approach him on Lilly’s behalf.’
Georgiana gaped. ‘You would do that? For Lilly?’
An expression passed over Elizabeth’s face, but it was gone before Georgiana could fathom its meaning. ‘Of course. I hardly regard it as anything really, and it can be neither here nor there who delivers your friend’s letter. Give me the letter, and I shall see to it before Henry removes from town.’
‘Oh, that cannot be more than three or four days from now! If you are to see him, it must be soon. Here is the letter— no, perhaps it ought to be enclosed in another paper, for privacy, you know. But my writing box is empty,’ she added, rummaging within it. ‘How vexing!’
‘I shall enclose the letter in paper from my own before I take it to Henry. I cannot go tomorrow, for you know we are engaged to spend the day with Lady Young. I shall go to Aunt Fanny’s on Monday and ask her to order for a chair for me.’
‘Oh, yes, but I do hope Henry will not remove until next week. You must go directly Monday morning!’ exclaimed Georgiana anxiously. She did not wish to disappoint her friend, and she resolved to write immediately and reassure her all was in hand.
She marvelled that such a little scheme could cause Elizabeth to be in such good spirits as she remained in for the rest of the afternoon. Not once had Eliza scolded Georgiana for using the familiar form of her name, and although she was sceptical that her sister would remain so agreeable, she was now rather pleased with herself for having shared her small burden, and as a result, lifted her sister’s spirits, and improved the collective peace of the entire family, in one action.
When Georgiana went down for dinner that evening, she flattered herself that she presented a picture of calm dignity, even though she hardly knew what to think of the afternoon’s events, and still simmered with vexation at the thought of Henry’s insupportable proposal!
However, wary of her mother’s reproaches should she discover her daughter’s second instance of ingratitude in one week, Georgiana did her best to eat with her usual appetite, and made a little general conversation with Julia and Elizabeth. Her mother, unaware of the afternoon’s events, had nothing more to reproach her daughter with, and so remained frosty, but not more so than usual. But nothing apart from the occasional conspiratory glance from Elizabeth, gave any indication of Georgiana’s earlier distress, and the evening was completed quietly on the sofa with books and needlework, and intermittent meaningful sighs from Mrs Hall.
~~*~~
The following day the Halls were engaged to Lady Young, to take tea and spend the afternoon. Georgiana, rising early, sought some solitude in the breakfast room, and was quite surprised, on entering that room, which faced the street, to see her sister already departing in a chair. ‘She has gone to take the letter to Henry’s club after all,’ thought Georgiana. ‘I am glad of it, for I would not wish to miss Henry if he leaves London very early next week.’
She had the maid pour her some tea and sat at the window, more relieved now that her friend’s small commission was taken care of. An hour later, she observed Elizabeth returning, and shortly after, followed her sister upstairs to her room. ‘Did you find Henry at his club? Did he give his assent? Did he think it impertinent to ask? I was surprised that you went today, but I think it was best, for Henry may leave London soon.’
Elizabeth was vague. ‘I told you I would deliver the note from Miss Osbourne. Don’t fuss so, Georgie, I shall see to it all.’
Georgiana had to make do with this since, at that moment, their mama came into the hall from her own room and chastised them for being late down to breakfast. Georgiana was satisfied, however, that she could now write to Lilly and reassure her. This she did that very evening, after their return from Lady Young’s. Georgiana also confided in her friend the events of the last fortnight.
‘But Lilly, I had no idea of Henry’s thinking of me in that way! You may imagine my distress, after receiving Captain Brandt’s proposals, to endure such ill-timed and insulting sentiments from a beloved cousin, a cousin in whom I have always trusted my wellbeing and happiness. It distresses me, too, to give Henry pain, but I can only hope that his inclination to take me as a wife was as sudden and ill-considered as his proposal, and that his discomfort may be more related to damaged pride than to a broken heart! Oh Lilly, I cannot at this moment give thought to ever marrying at all, after the events of these last weeks! I can only hope, my dear friend, that your own happiness may be only ever increased by aligning yourself with Lieutenant Hailsham, and that you never have to endure the mortification that I have experienced!’
Georgiana ended her letter, folded and sealed it, and gave it to Gibson to give to the houseboy to take to the post.
‘Oh dear, how inconvenient, Miss Georgie, for he has just now gone away to deliver a note for Miss Elizabeth! Well, never mind, I shall give it him when he comes back; it mayn’t be for a while, you know how slow that boy is! I swear that lad is off buying ha’penny buns every time he can get something from Mr Winthrop! But it was Miss Eliza who gave him a penny this time. I was vast surprised at your sister, for she never gives John a penny, and just for delivering a note! Next we know, that boy will come to expect payment every time he does his duty!’
‘Yes, Gibby,’ replied Georgiana, smiling despite herself, ‘but I just need John to take my letter to the post as soon as he can.’
‘Yes, Miss Georgie. I’ll take it m’self, if you like.’
‘Yes, please Gibby. To whom,’ she added curiously, ‘did my sister send a note?’
‘Why, I don’t rightly know, Miss! Very secret it was, for Miss Eliza gave the lad special instructions which I was not to hear! Can you imagine it? La, what this world is coming to!’
She turned and bustled away, shaking her head in disapproval at the liberties servants were now being granted by their masters, and Georgiana, laughing, shook her own. Ah, well, her sister always did have her little caprices, she supposed, and decided that the details were better left undiscovered.
Thirteen
Monday brought the first week of July, and the usual morning calls. These led to Number Three, Charles Street, several callers of varyin
g degrees of enthusiasm for walking about in the light rain which hung in the morning air. Now that formal acquaintance with Mrs Hall been recognised by Lady Young, that lady came with her daughter to officially call on Mrs Hall, who had waited a full three weeks for the honour. Lady Young stayed long enough to compliment Julia on her French, remark disparagingly on the placement of the furniture and the aspect from the window, and to issue a tolerably warm invitation for dinner before the end of the season. She left with as much éclat as she had come, taking her apologetic-looking daughter with her.
Colonel Walker, in his damp, red regimentals, was shown in shortly afterward and stayed to talk companionably with the girls for half an hour. Elizabeth, looking bored and pretty in her pale blue silk, languidly fluttered her fan, and kept her eyes fixed on the window, so that the Colonel was forced to address the other Hall ladies. Still, he did not seem very perturbed by Elizabeth’s aloofness, and the severity of her left shoulder, presented for his perusal in lieu of her face, caused not one open complaint.
Mrs Hall was very agreeable to the Colonel, as always, and plied him with tea and compliments and a great deal of conversation. In return, he smiled kindly and nodded at Mrs Hall, and took the opportunity at any break in the conversation to regale them with details of his meetings with the such-and-such society, or walks with friends at Vauxhall or at the Exhibitions.
‘But you ladies are all looking quite despondent this morning! Ah, I dare say I know the cause! It is because you are due to go home to Loweston, of course! And when do you leave, Ma’am?’
‘On Friday, Colonel. My sister will remove to the north again, and as we rely on her kindness… well, I should have been very content to be going home, but for the fact that all three of my girls remain unmarried! I had thought that — but I shall remain silent on that point,’ she added, glaring at Georgiana, who looked away in some consternation. ‘It is very hard, Colonel, to raise daughters alone. Very hard indeed. But,’ she continued, brightening, ‘I have improved our acquaintance here by some measure! That at least is one thing to be glad of! I think Lady Young has quite taken to me, and now that we are assured of that acquaintance, we shall be more in the right circles next year! To be sure, it is nothing with me, you know, to be seen here or there, but only for the good of the girls I have cultivated such acquaintances. I must do my duty as a mother, even though I do it alone!’
Beauty and the Beast of Thornleigh Page 10