by Regina Darcy
“Amputated?” he repeated. “I say, have you had a physician look at it?”
“I really don’t want to talk about it,” she replied. “It’s too distressing. But I insist; you must dance. I shall so enjoy watching you.”
“I’ll come back after the dance,” he promised.
“Yes, do.”
As soon as Lord Lester had gone off in search of a dancing partner, or perhaps another heiress, Georgiana scampered out of sight. It was easy to become lost in the crowds of guests and she used them as camouflage to hide her from view, should Lord Lester make good on his promise to search for her.
Heiress! Sir Edward had not told her that she was an heiress in her own right. She had assumed that her expenses were paid for out of his income. Having left Great Britain as a child, she had had no contact with any of her family’s solicitors who would have been able to acquaint her with the details of her inheritance. If she were truly an heiress, as an annual income of $20,000 pounds a year affirmed, she was surely capable of being rather more discerning in her choice of a husband. She wanted to be independent of her stepfather but she also wanted to marry wisely.
As she moved behind the throngs, she scanned the people she passed. At one point, she spied her stepfather across the room, deep in conversation with a tall, white-haired gentleman. Quickly she darted into a group of people, excused herself, and emerged in another corner of the room. When she saw Lady Harcourt moving in her direction, she changed course and found herself outside on the terrace. The cool air felt refreshing on her skin.
She had, she felt, lost ten years of her life in that girls’ school in Florence. At a time when young women were learning to conduct themselves socially, she had been isolated and now her inexperience was showing. Fortunately, Lord Alexander was unaware that he had revealed so much of what was calculating and mercenary of London society, but she was thankful that he had informed her that she was an heiress. Other young men were likely to be more circumspect, which would reveal nothing. She needed to know the truth.
“Miss Georgiana, how fortunate to find you here.”
Georgiana whirled around. The white-haired gentleman with whom her stepfather had been engaged in conversation stood before her.
“I was just about to go inside,” she said. “The chill . . .”
“Of course. Allow me to accompany you.”
The Florence institute had been most enlightening on points of decorum and what was acceptable behaviour for unmarried girls. While Georgiana was a debutant, she was not without knowledge of the ways of the beau monde.
“I believe it would be advisable for you to return inside first,” Georgiana said. “Then I shall come in. Otherwise, I am told that people might misconstrue matters, as there is no one else out here.”
She thought she saw a moment of choler in his features, but if she had, it was gone in an instant. “Of course, Miss Drew. I shall look forward to your company inside. I have a most important request to make.”
THREE
“He is old and his nose is red. I’m sure he drinks,” Georgiana declared. “It’s all marked, all the way across as if someone in a fit drew lines all across it. You must have noticed; I’m sure everyone else has.”
“He is not old. He is a mature man of fifty-five who comes from a respectable family and is looking for a young wife so that he can have a family.”
“He should have thought of that before he became so frightfully old!” Georgiana declared.
“Georgiana, I am trying to arrange a suitable marriage for you. You are a very young girl—”
“Far too young to marry a man who could be my grandfather!”
“—and you have been out of the public eye for a long time. Rather than have you make an unwise choice of a husband, I have arranged what I regard as an advantageous union for you.”
“Is he looking for an heiress?” Georgiana demanded.
Georgiana detected a look of alarm in Sir Edward’s expression and she felt a sensation of triumph. Lord Lester’s information was proving valuable.
“I should imagine that a wife with 20,000 pounds a year would be most beneficial to a man who’s being dunned,” she went on, growing more confident as she saw her stepfather’s expression confirming her words.
“Who have you been speaking to?” he asked.
“Does it matter?” she asked airily, as if she were in possession of a vast network of contacts who had kept her informed during her time in Florence.
“It matters very much. You may not know that a European girls’ school with an excellent reputation for turning out girls of breeding and deportment does not come cheap.”
“Probably not,” she agreed cheerfully. “But I daresay there’s a shilling or two left over at the end of the year.”
Sir Edward’s face darkened and she wondered if she’d hit too close to a mark that was as of yet a mystery to her.
“You will send your compliments to Lord Walsingham,” Sir Edward told her, his voice controlled. “You will thank him for the honour of his offer, and you will invite him to dine with us on Friday. On Friday, you will accept his marriage proposal. You will be married after the announcement of the banns and when you return from your honeymoon you will live on his estate in Shropshire.”
“I do not wish to marry him!”
“Your wishes are irrelevant!” Sir Edward pounded his fist on his desk and rose to his feet. “You are a minor, you are in my charge and I will see you married to a responsible man of years who can curb your hoydenish ways. Marriage and in time, motherhood will perhaps accomplish what your education has failed to do.”
Georgiana stood up. “I’m going to bed,” she announced.
“Georgiana,” Sir Edward said in a warning tone, “your note to Lord Walsingham will go out in the morning post. Do I make myself clear?”
“Quite clear. I shall write it tonight, and post it tomorrow.”
“I shall post it tomorrow,” he corrected. “I want no stories of letters gone astray.”
“Good night, Sir Edward. My 20,000 pounds and I wish you a very sound sleep.”
Head held high, she walked past him maintaining her rigid posture until she was in her room. Cassie was waiting for her.
“What’s the matter, ma’am? Didn’t you have a pleasant time at the ball?”
Georgiana sat down on one of the chairs, and indicated with her hand that Cassie was to do likewise.
“Oh, ma’am, I never could. Servants don’t sit in the presence of their betters.”
“Please sit down, Cassie, you are the only friend I have in London and I need to speak with someone I can trust.”
“Whatever happened, ma’am, to put you in such a humour? You look quite torn apart.”
“I feel torn apart.” Georgiana related to Cassie the events of the night: the revelation that she was an heiress in her own right; the news that she was a desired matrimonial prospect by young gentlemen in search of a wife with means; and finally, Lord Walsingham’s proposal of marriage.
“It was horrible. We were in a corner of the room and I felt quite cut off, trapped. He said that he admired me greatly and wished to marry me. But he’d only seen me for the first time last night and so I knew that he had no interest in me, but in my inheritance. I’m sure that my stepfather has arranged some sort of exchange whereby his friend will have access to my inheritance and I will be entirely dependent upon him. With no friends in London, no family to speak of, where can I turn?”
“Oh, ma’am, I had no idea. I knew that you are wealthy, of course, but—”
“You said nothing of it.”
“What could I say? I thought you knew that you’re an heiress of note, and it’s not something that a servant would discuss.”
“I’m sorry, Cassie. I feel such a fool. I couldn’t wait to come back home and go to balls and fall in love and do the things that other girls are doing, and now I find out that I’m to be bartered! I won’t do it, I tell you. I simply won’t.”
“But ma’am, what will you do?”
“I don’t know. But I shall do something. I shall send the note as my stepfather requires. I don’t want him to know that I intend to disobey him. But I shall not marry Lord Walsingham. I may need your assistance, Cassie. But I cannot get you into trouble. No one must ever know that I have confided in you.”
“I shan’t tell a soul, mistress, but what do you want me to do?”
“I must think. I will have a better sense of what to do when tomorrow comes.”
The next morning, Sir Edward was satisfied with the letter that she penned to Lord Walsingham, expressing her gratitude that a man of years and experience had sought to honour her with a proposal of marriage, and that she would be most grateful if he would accept an invitation to dine with her and her stepfather on Friday evening so that plans for the nuptials could be made.
He told Mrs. Endicott to see that the letter went out in the mail. He would be gone until Friday, occupied by business, but she was to be assured that he would be home in time for the supper with Lord Walsingham. In the meantime, Miss Georgiana was not to gallivant about without an attendant. She was entirely too independent and needed the guidance of a man of years to steer her.
Mrs. Endicott knew her place and kept her thoughts to herself. But she instructed Cook to make sure that Miss Georgiana’s meals included Cook’s most delicious desserts. Poor thing, the women agreed; practically an orphan and now to be married off to a dissolute drunkard whose debts were the talk of London, and poor Miss Georgiana not knowing any of this.
By Thursday morning, Georgiana was ready. She had packed belongings into a trunk, which would be delivered to the post house by a hired cab. Cassie had surreptitiously procured bread, hard cheese, and fruit from the kitchen for Georgiana to take with her. Arrangements had been made for her to take the morning stage from London. Her destination was Bath, where, Cassie had discovered, the Drew family spent the Season. Cassie had been discreet in her questioning as she explained to Mr. Gregson, the butler, and Mrs. Endicott that Miss Georgiana was curious about her extended family and wanted to know if it would be possible to invite them to the wedding. The staff was happy to provide information on the Drews and the request to invite them to the wedding sounded feasible. Georgiana was careful to make sure that Cassie did nothing that could risk her being sacked, so with an inventiveness that came naturally to her and a capacity for conspiring that she didn’t know she had, she was ready to leave.
Cassie explained to Mrs. Endicott that Miss Georgiana had no need of her services on Thursday night. She was planning what to wear for the supper on Friday and would be occupied all day planning her guest list. But by Friday, Miss Georgiana would be miles away from London. Instructed to act as if nothing were out of the ordinary, Cassie did not bid her ladyship farewell. She went about her chores with her usual diligence. However, throughout the day, she took the time to pray to a pantheon of saints so that Miss Georgiana would have all the protection she was sure to need in what was, to Cassie’s mind, a most dangerous course of action.
Cassie had been born and raised in London and although she’d never left the city, she was quite sure that whatever was beyond its borders was perilous. She didn’t know of any female who had dared to strike off on her own with no male protector or parent accompanying her, and it was clear to Cassie that her mistress would need the help of all the saints that could be invoked to come to her aid.
FOUR
Although Georgiana understood that running away was not a sensible decision for a young woman who wished to maintain a proper reputation, she felt invigorated as she boarded the stagecoach on Thursday afternoon. She was dressed in one of the plain dresses that she had brought from her school days, feeling that she would attract less attention if she were attired in a nondescript fashion. Her hat was plain, with a wide brim that could, if needed, obscure her features. Her trunk, however, contained her favourites of the new dresses that had been made for her, as well as the articles of her wardrobe that would be needed when she reached her Drew relatives in Bath. She looked like a respectable servant, she thought, or someone from the middling class. She did not look at all like a runaway heiress eluding an unwelcome marriage.
The other occupants of the stage were all females. Their garments were as elaborate and bright as Georgiana’s garb was plain. They were cheerful and loud but friendly and before many miles had been travelled, she felt that she was among friends. She told them that she was traveling to Bath to be a companion to an elderly lady who needed someone to write her correspondence, read to her, and play the piano.
“Do you play?” asked one of the women.
“Yes, I’ve been playing the pianoforte since I was a child.”
“You’re not much more than that now, are you?” observed another of the women.
“I’m nineteen,” Georgiana replied with dignity.
“Young enough to be willing to admit her age!” joked another of the stage occupants.
“I don’t suppose you’d want to do us a good turn,” asked the woman who had spoken first, and who seemed to be their leader.
“I would be delighted,” Georgiana said. “What sort of turn?”
The woman, who said her name was Marie L’Amour, explained that they were performers scheduled to entertain at a very posh engagement, but their pianist had fallen ill and was unable to make the journey. Without a pianist, their performance would be sadly lacking.
“We’re to get top notch wages for our work,” Marie coaxed. “We’re playing for a very distinguished audience. Society gents, no less.”
“Why not!” Georgiana exclaimed enthusiastically. She could continue on her journey after the performance and it seemed that taking the opportunity to fall out of sight could be useful. She had no way of being sure that her disappearance would not be detected before Friday. Besides, the novelty of actually earning money with her talents was too alluring to waste. She didn’t know any other girl who earned money. What a story to tell someday: that she had run away from her overbearing stepfather and procured employment as a pianist for a group of traveling entertainers. She was quite sure that no one at the school had ever had such an adventure.
They were such a jolly lot, Georgiana decided as the stagecoach continued its journey. While she didn’t always understand their jokes, it was plain that they were women of good humour and she laughed along with them as if what they were saying was hilarious. Still, it was best to be cautious, and when they asked her name, she said it was Lizzie. None of them seemed particularly surprised that she didn’t offer a surname. She found it rather a stretch to believe that all the women, who were plainly English, should have such exotic last names as the ones they introduced themselves by, but she supposed there might have been French ancestry in their paternal line at some point. But it was certainly unusual to meet a collection of women named L’Amour, La Reine, and DuBelle, she thought. She decided not to ask them from what part of France they hailed; these days, it was unwise to make free with one’s familiarity with anything French and they might become suspicious of her.
When the stagecoach made a stop along the way, Georgiana joined the others as they got out to stretch their legs and take care of what Marie explained, with a broad wink, were private matters. Georgiana followed in their wake and found out readily enough what those private matters were.
“Best go while you can, that’s what I always say. Never know when you might meet a fine gentleman who’s got something in mind,” Marie said. Georgiana did not understand what going to the privy had to do with a gentleman’s mind, but she refrained from commenting.
“Quite.”
“Are we going to have lunch? Aren’t you girls hungry?”
Mindful of the need to be careful, Georgiana had taken money with her, but most of it was safely concealed in her trunk, with a few coins kept on her person for needs such as this.
“The food atthe stagecoach stops is too expensive,” said Celeste, a slender blonde with
bold blue eyes and very red cheeks that Georgiana suspected might not be her natural colouring. She almost thought that Celeste’s hair had also originally been of another hue, but she’d never known a woman who dyed her hair so she had nothing to go by.
“I have a few coins with me to purchase food. I’d be happy to share,” Georgiana said. “I don’t suppose it would extend to a joint of mutton and a bottle of wine, but surely we could procure bread and cheese and dine quite contentedly on that.” She was saving the food Cassie had packed for her in case there was no place where food could be obtained.
“Throw in a bottle of ale and it’ll be a feast!” announced Solange, a redhead who, like Celeste, seemed to have acquired colouring which had perhaps not been hers at birth.
The innkeeper was quite happy to provide generous loaves of crusty bread and thick wedges of cheese, along with the desired ale for the ladies, who praised his proportions with such raillery that Georgiana wondered if other innkeepers were inclined to be stingy with their food. It was useful to know. She congratulated herself on having joined up with an experienced troupe of performers who knew the ways of the road.
Georgiana had journeyed from Great Britain to Italy and back, but her voyage had been conducted under the watchful eye of the ship’s captain, who had been mindful of his passenger’s station. Sir Edward had at least done that much, although, as she pondered the matter once they were all back in the coach again, she wondered what would happen to her inheritance if she should die. She did not suppose Sir Edward to be a murderer, of course, but it was plain to her that there were questions to be asked, questions that could not be asked if she were under the control of a husband not of her choosing. It was another reason to meet her Drew relatives and find out these things. She didn’t remember her father, but surely there were legal documents of some sort which had been prepared to protect her inheritance.
In the meantime, she’d made new friends and she was off on an adventure that would never have befallen her had she remained in London meekly submitting to her stepfather’s forced marriage arrangement. Clearly she had made the right decision.