The Merry Lives of Spinsters

by Rebecca Connolly

  Georgie seemed to tremble before his eyes, and he smiled knowingly at her. He felt the same sort of tremor, though his was not visible. It thrummed through his body with energy and vigor, filling him with the need to act, to seize whatever opportunity he could.

  “Must we?” Georgie whimpered. “Everyone will think…”

  “At least six people heard her command me to,” he assured her, gentling his smile. “They and their friends will consider me fulfilling a duty.”

  She nodded once, swallowing again. “And the rest?”

  “I thought of that, too.” He winked at her. “I have at least four more dances I must engage in tonight.”

  “Truly?” she managed. “With whom?”

  “Well, I’ve been making it a point to dance with the Spinsters tonight,” he informed her with a smug smile. “I’ve enjoyed a dance with Grace, Charlotte, and Prue so far, so the next must be with you and with Izzy.”

  Georgie began to smile at him, her eyes crinkling a little. “And the last two?”

  “Miranda begged a dance for herself, and I think Janet deserves one as well. They’re not Spinsters, of course, but they are family. Duty must be upheld, after all.”

  “Of course.” She smiled so warmly at him that he could scarcely breathe, and whatever power he’d felt from Grace’s smile seemed insignificant by comparison.

  There was no telling what he would do for such a smile, but he suspected it would be a substantial effort.

  He held out his hand as he tried to find his voice.

  Georgie wordlessly put her hand in his, smiling at him still. “You’re right,” she murmured.

  “About what?”

  She looked down at their hands, then back up at him. “It almost feels like a kiss.”

  If he somehow avoided dying this evening, it would be an absolute miracle.

  He steeled himself, nodded politely, and led her out onto the dance floor, the room watching yet another Spinster dance with too much interest.

  What they did not realize was that this was the one that mattered most.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A courtship, if properly pursued, should be something formal, sedate, and supervised by the appropriate chaperones. If pursued informally, it should be public, simple, and properly chaperoned. If pursued in haste, it should at least be properly chaperoned. Anything else is absolute madness and a certain path to disaster.

  -The Spinster Chronicles, 2 December 1816

  “Did they see us? I don’t think they saw us.”

  “I don’t see how they could have. You were far ahead of me, and I happen to be very quick.”

  Georgie grinned, holding out her gloveless hand.

  Tony smiled back, still breathless from their running, and took it. “I missed you.”

  His words lightened her heart, and somehow, she smiled further still. “I just saw you yesterday.”

  He shook his head slowly. “That was much too long ago.” He tugged on her hand, pulling her against him and kissed her, his lips slowly devouring hers with soft, gentle caresses that made her spine tingle and her toes ache.

  “Georgie! Tony! Where did you get to?”

  Georgie broke off, moaning weakly. “Why can we not hide?”

  Tony kissed her nose, then the corner of her mouth. “Because we have very inquisitive friends and family, and we are only secretly courting to please Miranda. If we want any real privacy…”

  Georgie shook her head, then dropped her brow to his shoulder. “Yes and no. No and yes… Tony, I don’t know what I want or what to do.”

  He kissed her hair quickly and rubbed her back. “Well, if you keep running, I’ll catch you again. There’s another stand of trees over there, and it’s far more shaded.”

  She smacked his shoulder, raising her head with a scolding look. “Really, Tony? Really?”

  He grinned unabashedly. “What can I say? Chasing you is an inordinate amount of fun and sneaking around is rather enjoyable.”

  She scoffed and pushed off him, pulling her glove back on. “You should have gone into covert operations, Captain Sterling.”

  “Who’s to say I am not?” He raised a brow at her with perfect alacrity.

  She gave him the sort of look that said exactly what she thought of that.

  He hefted his blue pall mall ball and chuckled at her. “You better start your march to your own ball, Miss Allen, or face the questions of our friends.”

  Georgie narrowed her eyes at him, stuck out her tongue, and then trudged on up ahead.

  “Oh, there you are, Georgie!” Izzy called from the other side of the bushes. “I didn’t see you. Where’s Tony?”

  Georgie scowled and pointed at him. “He decided it would be amusing to stand on his own ball once it was next to mine, and then hit it so that my ball went soaring into the distance while his stayed put!”

  Izzy laughed aloud while Charlotte cheered. “Good strategy, Tony!”

  “Not helpful!” Georgie bellowed down to her. She turned and continued her way up the lawn, now grinning to herself. The truth of the matter was that she had thrown her ball as far as she could the moment she had been out of sight from everyone else to give herself time away.

  They’d all driven out to Janet’s family home, situated outside of London, for a picnic and games, and the first thing Janet had insisted upon was a game of pall mall. Georgie hadn’t played since she was a much younger girl, but any chance to be competitive was something she would jump at. Prue and Grace hadn’t come with them today, nor had Elinor, who seemed more disgruntled than usual, despite her recent absences, so it was left to Izzy, Charlotte, and Georgie to represent the rest of the Spinsters in their game.

  Tony had come, obviously, as had Lord Sterling, Lieutenant Henshaw, Mr. Johnston, his wife, and Miranda. Mr. Johnston and his wife had opted to remain at the house, though they watched from the terrace, and Miranda, though not playing, was following along to observe.

  She was undoubtedly trying to watch Tony and Georgie interact, what with her plans for them, but up until this point, they hadn’t given her much to see aside from their bickering and too-competitive nature.

  Not that either of them was focused on the game overly much. They were having too much fun putting on a show for her and for everybody else. Ever since the ball at Lord and Lady Kirby’s, they had been practically inseparable. They’d taken up sending each other missives throughout the day, arranging to meet up in the most innocent places.

  The bookshop on Wednesday, though Tony had never been a great reader. Outside of the milliner’s on Friday, though Georgie had no need for more headwear. Tattersall’s on Thursday, though neither of them needed a new horse. Hyde Park nearly every morning with a servant in tow, as Georgie had suddenly developed a taste for early morning walks.

  They never behaved in a manner that would rouse comment, staying strictly within the confines of good behavior. Everything was polite and proper, with absolutely no touching unless it was deemed necessary by good manners. Georgie had begun growing purposefully clumsy, so Tony would be forced into taking her hand or holding her arm to steady her, but the moments never lasted long enough for either of them. He could help her in and out of carriages as often as he liked, but it wouldn’t change anything.

  It was madness, what they were doing. Absolute madness.

  She was only growing more and more fond of him, more and more attracted to him, and more and more desperate to be with him above all others.

  Yet the betrayal that had been felt when Emma had married Mr. Partlowe and left the Spinsters weighed heavily upon her. Would they feel the same way if Georgie left them all for Tony?

  She blanched at the thought. The word marriage had never been shared between them except in jest, so there was no reason to think that this infatuation could lead to that extreme. This could all be nothing more than a temporary romance to entertain them both for a time.

  It didn’t feel temporary, though. It all felt rather consuming and wild, yet wi
th a depth that was fast taking root within her.

  Neither of them had uttered the word love, and Georgie wasn’t certain she could.

  Was she in love? Was that what this madness all amounted to? Or was she so desperate for the future she had always envisioned that she was not seeing things clearly, not as they truly were?

  These were the thoughts that kept her awake at night, when she was not dreaming of Tony and his kisses. She had never been in love before, had never been courted, either for the public or in secret, so she had no idea what to expect.

  She had witnessed several courtships from the outside perspective, including Emma’s. She knew how those had looked, and what had been said about the couple in particular from those watching. She’d seen courtships that had floundered, courtships that had surprised her with their swift success, courtships that seemed doomed to fail yet thrived, and courtships that would have bored her to tears. Long courtships, short courtships, and courtships that had been all show and little substance.

  But she knew nothing about being in a courtship. How would someone court her? What would make a courtship of Georgie Allen successful?

  Tony seemed inclined to try, though she couldn’t say to what end. She did not doubt that he had good intentions, nor could she doubt his sincerity. He was not the sort of man to prey upon a woman’s heart and tender emotions. He was a good man, and a handsome one. He had honor, valor, and good judgment. He was witty and charming, kind and considerate, and his smile made one wish for wings to fly.

  He was exactly the sort of man that Georgie had always wished herself to fall in love with but had not managed to find.

  She glanced back down the green now, where the others followed, including Tony, and he looked up at her. His eyes warmed, and he cast a very faint wink at her, causing her heart to skip a beat.

  Was Georgie turning into one of those silly creatures she had always disapproved of and pitied simply because a handsome man was paying her attention?

  Probably.

  But was it unfounded?

  That was a far more difficult question to answer.

  Georgie shook her head and took up position next to her green ball, waiting for her turn.

  Tony stopped several feet away, propping his mallet atop his ball and turning to look at the others. “Charlotte, if you would like to take your turn before the autumn sets in…”

  Charlotte scoffed loudly, making a face at him. “My strokes are far more accurate than yours, Tony Sterling, as you will notice by my proximity to the wicket. You will have to backtrack to get through it, and if you continue to whack away at it like a madman, you’ll be here until Michaelmas, not me.”

  “Tony, do behave with gentility,” Miranda scolded, her tone one of mild offense. “What will the ladies think of you?”

  Lord Sterling chuckled and propped his mallet on his shoulder. “That he’s a sportsman despite his gentility?”

  Miranda threw a dark look at him. “Not helpful, Francis.”

  He grinned at his aunt and shrugged. “Terribly sorry, Miranda, but it is true. And Miss Wright was not at all offended, was she?” He looked at Charlotte with inquiry.

  Charlotte shook her head straightaway. “No more than anyone could be with Tony at any given time. It’s truly the lieutenant who needs to work on his aim.”

  Lieutenant Henshaw coughed in mock distress, putting a hand to his heart. “Miss Wright, you do wound me so!”

  “Yes, I have that effect on people,” Charlotte sniffed, tossing her dark curls. “You’ll grow accustomed to it.”

  Henshaw grinned at her, and his smile was one of warmth and friendliness rather than adoration. “Would you care to wager, Miss Wright?”

  “Oh, no,” Izzy moaned, putting her head in one hand. “Lieutenant, you shouldn’t…”

  Georgie looked heavenward. “Please, no…”

  “I always care to wager, Lieutenant,” Charlotte said with a mischievous note in her voice. “What are we wagering on?”

  “Five strokes,” Henshaw said firmly, his mouth curving. “Our balls are in a near proximity at the moment. Whoever can be the most accurate with their five strokes and the remaining four wickets wins.”

  Tony was shaking his head, laughing to himself. “Henshaw…”

  Despite Miranda’s command for Tony to be more genteel, she watched this particular interchange with interest.

  Georgie thought Miranda and Charlotte would get along famously, if given the chance. Or else they would clash like titans and leave a destructive path in their wake.

  “And the stakes?” Charlotte asked Henshaw, tilting her chin.

  “A dance?” he suggested.

  Charlotte sputtered in disgust. “Too simple.”

  “She’d dance with you anyway, Lieutenant,” Izzy informed him with a laugh.

  “Money,” he suggested.

  “Too mercenary,” Janet scoffed, warming to their game. “And I think she has more to offer than you, Lieutenant.”

  Henshaw considered that, then smirked at her. “Dessert, then. At the picnic. If I win, I get your desserts. All of them. If you win, you get mine.”

  Georgie grinned swiftly at that and eyed Charlotte carefully. There was nothing Charlotte loved so well as her dessert, and it would be a true test of her honor to see her give them up.

  Charlotte nodded at once. “Agreed.” She gestured at Tony, taking up her position. “Move, Sterling. I have desserts to win.”

  Tony chuckled and bowed as he stepped aside.

  Charlotte hit her yellow ball and watched it roll almost directly to the next wicket, then grinned proudly and turned to her competitor. “Your move, soldier.”

  Henshaw raised a brow at her, then stepped forward and sent his red ball directly at hers, knocking it aside of the wicket.

  “Foul!” Charlotte cried with a stomp of her foot.

  “That’s pall mall, Miss Wright,” Henshaw told her with an easy smile. “One stroke down, four to go.” He twirled his mallet over his shoulder and whistled as he headed for their balls, Charlotte glowering darkly as she marched behind.

  “I resign,” Lord Sterling said with a laugh. “I want to watch this play out.”

  “Me too,” Janet offered, setting her mallet aside and taking her husband’s arm. “I’ll place a guinea on Charlotte.”

  Lord Sterling chuckled. “And I’ll put mine on Henshaw. Miranda, may I escort you?” He offered her an arm and a smile.

  Miranda looked at Charlotte and Henshaw in speculation, then glanced over at Georgie briefly with a raise of one brow before striding forward. “Yes, Francis, that would be lovely.”

  They moved away, placing their own bets and making an analysis of the rest of the course.

  Tony watched them go, then looked up at Georgie with a teasing smile.

  Naturally, she had already been watching him, and something about his eyes on her made her smile. Just a soft, warm, contented smile, something familiar and easy, and all the frantic emotions of late faded before her.

  She could very easily love this man.

  She might already.

  Again, he gave her a faint wink, and then struck his ball with the mallet in the direction of the others, though nobody was paying attention to anyone else now.

  He followed it, leaving only Georgie behind.

  With Izzy.

  Georgie’s eyes widened as she realized that she’d forgotten all about her cousin still being behind with her and Tony. And she’d just been smiling so fondly at him, and he’d winked at her! For all intents and purposes, that might have been as bad as an embrace!

  She looked over at Izzy, who was very quietly standing by her ball, her copper hair glinting a little in the sunlight.

  Izzy gave Georgie an unreadable smile. “Your turn, I suppose.”

  Georgie frowned a little. With what Izzy had just witnessed, she was still intent on playing the game? Hesitantly, Georgie hit her ball and sent it in the direction of the next wicket.

  Izzy w
atched the ball, then nodded with a proud smile. “Excellent shot.” She lined her ball and mallet, and made a similar shot, but winced this time. “That wasn’t as good. Oh well.” She grinned at Georgie and tilted her head in the direction of the others. “Shall we?”

  Georgie nodded absently and started to walk when she felt Izzy link their arms and sigh.

  “I don’t know why the two of you are being so secretive,” Izzy commented with an airy note. “We all know.”

  Georgie nearly stumbled in shock, but Izzy kept her upright. “You… what?”

  Izzy’s wide eyes took on a pitying look. “Oh, Georgie, you didn’t think we were as blind as all that, did you?”

  “I…” she stammered, wondering if this sensation of being completely tossed about and without words was what Prue endured. “I don’t…”

  “We’ve all discussed it,” Izzy went on, “and we’re tired of pretending we don’t know. You and Tony deserve to court for all to see, and none of us know why you aren’t.”

  This was beyond anything Georgie could have imagined. “You all… Who?”

  Izzy looked surprised. “The Spinsters, of course. We’ve decided that if you two don’t start a proper courtship, we’re going to start rumors about secret liaisons to force you to start one. The choice is yours, really.”

  “Then you approve?” Georgie asked, hardly daring to hope.

  Now Izzy was bewildered, and she laughed. “Of Tony? Good heavens, Georgie, absolutely yes. We all adore him, so snatch him up before somebody else tries to.”

  Georgie laughed breathlessly, her heart lighter than air, and she pulled her cousin closer. “Oh, good, because I really hate morning walks, and I’d rather not keep doing them.”

  “Yes, I wondered about that.”

  Charlotte rather enjoyed her additional desserts but surprised them all by not lording over Henshaw about her victory.