by Regina Scott
Allison sighed in obviously relief. “Oh, Gen, it’s only you.”
“Yes, and you can be quite glad of that,” Gen replied firmly, marching into the room. “Though you can be certain that the moment Mother realizes you have abandoned your guests for the kitchen, she will be after you as well.”
“It’s my fault,” Geoffrey said, swallowing a sigh that was more from disappointment that the moment was over than from any regret.
Genevieve turned her scowl on him. “Do not make matters any worse for yourself, Geoffrey. You are in quite enough trouble as it is.”
“You needn’t lash into him simply because he’s the only one at this ball who knows how to have fun,” Allison told her, her loyalty warming him.
“And don’t make matters worse for yourself either, Allison,” Genevieve retorted. “Quickly now, before Mother realizes where you’ve gone. The only reason she isn’t looking for you is that she thinks you’re promenading with Lord DeGuis.”
All thoughts of loyalty fled at the sound of his rival’s name. “Does she indeed?” Geoffrey asked.
Allison frowned at him. “As I am clearly not promenading with Lord DeGuis, I see no reason for you to be testy.” Her frown deepened, and she lowered her voice. “As if you need to be jealous.”
Jealous? He wasn’t just jealous. He was a raving lunatic. Hadn’t she felt what he’d felt when they were so close? Couldn’t she see why he’d come all this way, why he was hiding in the kitchen?
Apparently not, for she stepped away from him in obvious annoyance. “In fact,” she said with a toss of her head, “I see no reason for you to be testy either way. You are quite right, Genevieve, this kitchen is even more tiresome than my ball. Let us return to our guests.”
Geoffrey stood by the sideboard, powerless to stop her.
But Allison’s defection was not the last of his trials that night. After he calmed himself, he realized that his best defense against this absurd jealousy was to attend the rest of the ball himself. Surely, he reasoned, Mrs. Munroe would have calmed by now. From Allison’s description of the staid ball, the widow could only be pleased. Besides, Allison couldn’t very well promenade with the Marquis DeGuis if she were promenading with him instead. Unfortunately, his evening clothes were soiled beyond any repair he could make, and he had no others with him.
He hurried upstairs to ransack Alan’s wardrobe, but his brother had packed lightly and was obviously wearing the only set of appropriate apparel. Mrs. Munroe kept all the footmen in navy livery so he couldn’t easily borrow their coats or breeches, and he cringed at the thought of approaching Perkins. In the end, all he could do was stalk about his borrowed room in Alan’s dressing gown and mutter his frustration at everyone and everything.
For all Allison had claimed the ball to be tiresome, it took abominably long to break up in Geoffrey’s opinion. He was actually considering loosing the ferret again when he began to hear carriages pulling away below. A short time later, a rap sounded on his door, and Alan looked in.
“It’s a good thing you’re still awake,” he told Geoffrey. “My wife tells me that she cannot sleep unless we’ve had a full accounting from you.”
Geoffrey sighed. “Haven’t I atoned enough by missing the ball?”
“Apparently not,” Alan quipped. He held open the door for him. “Downstairs, if you please, in the library.”
Geoffrey shook his head but moved to comply.
He was only slightly relieved when he saw that Allison was with her sister in the room. Like the other rooms in the rented house, it did little to reflect its owners, unless perhaps it was the Widow Munroe. He somehow found it hard to imagine Allison reading any of the thick, leather-bound volumes that clung to the glass-fronted bookshelves lining the walls in orderly fashion just as the four leather arm chairs were arranged in perfect square in the center of the room.
Genevieve was frowning at him from the chair next to her sister, and he decided the safest place for him was the farthest place from her. Accordingly, he stopped to eye the bookshelves just inside the room. Yet, he could feel Allison watching him and couldn’t resist another look. Her expressive eyes were wide and damp. Had he caused such pain? Had he spoiled her ball after all?
As if she saw answering pain in his own eyes, she squared her shoulders. “I do not see why we must do this, Gen,” she said. “The ball was a success according to everyone with whom I talked. Even Mother seemed pleased.”
So, things had gone well after all. He couldn’t help but feel relieved. Genevieve seemed less impressed.
“Mother may have been pleased about what was left of her ball,” she replied, “but you heard her, Allison. She wants Geoffrey out of the house, by tomorrow, or rather today.” She massaged her temple with two fingers. “Even though we are returning to Somerset soon, I do not think we can overlook this incident.”
Allison shook her head vehemently, even as Geoffrey frowned at the superior tone. He was standing right here. Did no one think to address his behavior to him?
“But, Gen,” Allison protested, “this is no different from the pranks Geoffrey used to play when we were children. I remember him dropping a frog on the pages of our books while we studied, yanking my ribbons out of my hair to use as fishing line, and throwing apples at me from his side of the wall.”
“As I recall,” Genevieve mused, “you made a pet of the frog, got Chimes to settle the fish you caught with the ribbons into the Abbey pond, and refused to share the pie Annie cooked from the apples.”
Geoffrey hid a grin.
“My point exactly,” Allison declared. “All those things turned out well, just as tonight did. I fail to see why Geoffrey must be made to suffer any more than he already has.”
“From what I observed, Geoffrey has hardly suffered at all.” Genevieve frowned, and the look sent a chill up Geoffrey’s spine. “And you know how Mother feels. He cannot escape this one so easily, Allison. He is long past the age of childish pranks, or should be. You know as well as I do that Mother has a fairly rigid set of standards to which she expects everyone to adhere.”
Geoffrey caught Allison’s gaze and smiled in sympathy.
“Yes, Gen,” Allison murmured. “I know. But while you and I might try to live up to them, I find it insupportable that she should have a right to enforce them on others.”
Genevieve raised an eyebrow. “Insupportable? Allison, I think you should remember your place.”
Geoffrey winced.
Allison reacted exactly as he would have expected her to. “My place!” she cried, leaping to her feet. “Do you know how much you sound like Mother? ‘Allison, moderate your tone.’ ‘Allison, such opinions are not suitable for a proper young lady.’ ‘Allison, silence is a virtue.’ Do my thoughts, my feelings, count for nothing in this family?”
“Of course they count for something!” Genevieve protested, clearly abashed. “I know what it means to fight for what you believe in, Allison. I meant only that it is our duty to respect Mother’s wishes while we live under her roof, however difficult that may be at times.”
“If it comes to that,” Allison said with a sniff, returning to her seat, “this roof belongs to Alan.”
Alan acknowledged her remark with a nod. “That may be true from a financial sense, Miss Allison. But I have always made it clear that your mother should consider this her home. I agree with Genevieve that we should respect her wishes. Besides, I’ve been considering what to do about Geoffrey for some time.”
Geoffrey stirred, stung, and abandoned his attempt to remain casual. “I see Allison is not the only one to be accorded little respect. I was not aware I had asked for your help, brother.”
“Perhaps not in so many words,” Alan replied. “But every time you pull one of these pranks, I am reminded that I have not done my duty by you.”
“Am I such a monster,” Geoffrey murmured, shaken by Alan’s words, “that you are so ashamed of me?”
Allison cried out as if in protest, but Gen hushed her
.
“Let us say,” Alan told him firmly, “that your behavior lacks what I would expect from a gentleman.”
Geoffrey grit his teeth, feeling as if he’d been punched in the gut. Even last winter, when the entire village had been sure he had committed several crimes, Alan had stood by him. To have that support taken away because of a ferret seemed cruel in the extreme. “Then do whatever you wish with me,” he managed. “Since I obviously have no worth.”
“The punishment should fit the crime, I’ve always thought,” Alan mused.
Allison leapt to her feet again. “I know! You claim Geoffrey is uncivil. Let him stay here, in London, to learn to be a gentleman.”
“Thank you for that, moonling,” Geoffrey murmured, unable to take his eyes from his brother’s serious face.
“No,” Alan replied. “That would hardly suit your mother, Miss Allison, and it will not help Geoffrey, as I cannot stay to keep an eye on him. It seems to me that Geoffrey will be best served if he can be made to face his faults.”
“And you don’t think pointing them out to me before an audience sufficient?” Geoffrey asked.
“Not nearly enough. I have in mind to give you a mirror, Geoffrey, a man so uncivil, as Miss Allison calls it, that the entire village of Wenwood shuns him.”
“Oh, Alan, no!” Genevieve cried in obvious realization of his intent.
Allison sank back on to the chair. “You would not be so cruel!”
Even Geoffrey had an inkling of his brother’s plan. “You cannot mean who I think you mean,” he told Alan.
Alan glanced from one to the other. “Geoffrey, you leave me no choice but to send you to the most difficult, cantankerous, uncivil man it has ever been my dubious honor to know. If I can convince him to take you, you will spend the rest of the spring and summer with Enoch McCreedy.”
Chapter Seven
Allison stood on the steps of the London town house, shivering in the pale light of morning although her blue pelisse should have kept her warm and the day promised to be bright. The creak of harness on the waiting team of horses sounded melancholy to her, and it seemed rather fitting that the coach hired to return Geoffrey to the country was black. She hadn’t been so miserable since she’d lost her father.
Alan leaned back out of the carriage, having just finished tucking lap robes around her sister. He glanced impatiently at the house, then focused on Allison. “Where is he?”
“You cannot blame him,” Allison replied, “if he isn’t eager to leave.”
Alan sighed. “Miss Allison, you must believe me that this is for his own good. If McCreedy can help knock off his rough edges, Geoffrey just might find his own way in the world. It is long past time he learned.” He grinned suddenly, reminding her of his brother. “And you may like him better as well.”
Allison refused to return his smile. “Some people would say they like him well enough right now.”
“And glad I am for that,” Geoffrey put in, appearing in the doorway. Despite the bantering tone, he looked more dismal than she had ever seen him. His wavy hair stuck out at all angles, and there were bags under his eyes as if he had not slept well. His chin seemed even more determined than usual. He brightened as he looked her over, then sobered again as his gaze swept over the waiting coach.
“Your bags are already aboard,” Alan called. “Say your farewells, and let’s be off.”
Allison caught her breath. She had been trying to prepare herself for this moment since Alan had made his announcement in the library, only a few hours ago. In that tiny amount of time, she had been forced to confront how she felt. After thinking about Geoffrey for weeks, she’d seen his appearance in London as nothing short of a miracle. He had hinted of marriage, but she told herself not to take that too seriously. She thought him handsome, she thought him clever, she thought him enjoyable company, but she was entirely too comfortable with him to think of him as a husband.
Besides, she knew Geoffrey, sometimes better than he knew himself. For all that she liked to think he found her equally attractive and clever, the truth was that she was one of his dearest, closest friends. She had never seen a couple who married from friendship. Certainly her mother and father had had little in common. And Genevieve and Alan had started out as bitter enemies. No, marriage to Geoffrey was too easy. If there was anything good to be said for this sojourn with Enoch McCreedy, it was that it would give Geoffrey and her time to think over their feelings.
Geoffrey scowled at Alan and turned to her. She smiled hopefully, praying he wouldn’t notice the red rims of her eyes or the pallor of her cheeks. All morning she had worried about what Enoch McCreedy might do to him. The pariah of the village, he insulted everyone who came to his farm to buy his horses. It was said he drowned kittens for fun. She shuddered just thinking about spending time with the man, but she knew she mustn’t let Geoffrey know of her fears.
Unfortunately, her face must have given her away for he reached out to tuck a stray curl back inside the rim of her straw bonnet and murmured, “I hope you weren’t crying because of me.”
“Why else would I be crying?” she demanded. His lopsided smile only fueled her fire. “Will you be serious? Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“As careful as need be,” Geoffrey allowed. “Just think, when I return, we’ll have all the more stories to tell each other.”
She should have responded as lightheartedly as he did, but she found she couldn’t. “I’ve heard entirely too many stories about Enoch McCreedy.”
“I’ve heard the same stories,” he said with a shrug. “But perhaps they’re only that—stories fabricated to frighten children into obedience. I’m not a child, Allison, no matter what some people seem to think. I don’t frighten easily.”
“I don’t understand you,” she hissed, aware of the eyes watching from the carriage. “Refuse them! Stand your ground! You’re nearly four years older than I am. Surely two and twenty is old enough to make your own decisions.”
“A man doesn’t reach his majority until five and twenty,” Geoffrey reminded her. “Besides, defying my brother, and your sister and mother, is hardly likely to get them to look kindly on my suit.”
Allison felt heat surge to her cheeks. “Oh, come now, Geoffrey,” she said in what she hoped was a teasing tone. “You don’t expect me to believe you truly want to marry me.
He returned her stare boldly. “Of course I want to marry you, moonling! This isn’t the time or place of my choosing, but I hope you know there’s no other girl in the world for me.”
“Oh, Geoffrey,” she managed. She was going to cry again, she could feel it. She swallowed instead, unsure what to say in return. She couldn’t very well promise undying devotion, not when she wasn’t sure she loved him. It would be unkind to let him think she agreed to his suit. But she couldn’t seem to open her mouth to tell him so.
“Normally I’d say hang the lot of them,” Geoffrey continued. “And we’d simply elope. But we need their good graces if we are to have the life I’d want for you.”
She heard the coachman cough and wished them all to perdition. “Listen, Geoffrey, you mustn’t say such things, not now. You’re the dearest friend I have in all the world, but I’m not ready to marry. I told you why I need this Season.”
Alan added his cough to that of the driver. Geoffrey must have felt the mounting pressure as well, for he caught her hand and pressed it fervently to his lips. Allison was surprised to feel herself begin to tremble at the sweet pressure of his kiss.
“Have your Season, Allison,” he murmured. “I’ll bide my time with McCreedy as Alan has commanded. When you return home, at the end of the summer, we’ll talk.” He grinned at her, and her heart somersaulted. “And I’ll stand my ground then, I promise.”
Allison could only nod, tears pooling behind her eyes. She ought to be calm. She ought to be as proper and elegant as her sister and mother. She ought to send him off with a curtsey and a polite smile. For a second, she considered doing all those thing
s, but only for a second. Then she threw her arms around him and hugged him close. “Oh, Geoffrey, how I’ll miss you!”
His arms came around her, strong. “I’ll miss you too, moonling,” he whispered in her ear, voice rough. “More than you can know. Wait for me.”
She nodded, gulping back tears. Beside the carriage, Alan cleared his throat rather loudly. Geoffrey let go of her, offered her one last grin, and ran down the steps to the coach. She waved until they were lost in the early morning traffic. Then she returned to the house with heavy steps. The four remaining months they intended to stay in London seemed like an eternity. She only hoped Geoffrey would find it easier than she feared. And she hoped she would make it through her Season.
–
Somehow Allison survived. She thought of Geoffrey just as often as she had before he was ostracized, and, when she was cavorting about the ballroom floor at other balls far more interesting than her own, she felt guilty for enjoying herself. She started several letters to him, only to put them aside before finishing. Her mother would hardly allow her to post them herself, and Perkins would never have carried them without tattling. She did manage to convince one of the footmen to carry an encouraging note, but as he was threatened with sacking for neglecting his other duties for his good deed, she was sure no one else would volunteer. In the end, she determined that the best she could do for Geoffrey was to get through the Season and return to Wenwood. Surely she could convince Alan to commute Geoffrey’s sentence if she were there to plead his case personally.
The Marquis DeGuis continued his pursuit of her, if she could call it a pursuit. He escorted her to balls, the opera, the theatre. He called with flattering frequency to talk, to drive through the park. Her friends were quick to point out that he hadn’t shown such attentions to any other lady on the ton. Yet, she was always aware of a distance between them, and she wasn’t sure why.