The Merry Lives of Spinsters

by Rebecca Connolly

  “Go ahead, my love. I am yours for the taking.” He glanced through the window again. “Do you think Eliza Howard has finished yet?”

  Georgie shrugged. “It’s entirely possible she will perform another. We’d better stay out here, just to be safe.”

  Tony chuckled and leaned closer. “If you say so, Miss Allen.”

  She smiled up at him, wrapping her arms about his neck. “I say so, Captain Sterling.”

  “Then stay we will,” he whispered just before his lips claimed hers once more.

  Chapter Nineteen

  One should always say the right thing at the right time. Saying the right thing at the wrong time will always cause strife, saying the wrong thing at the right time will only bring confusion, and saying the wrong thing at the wrong time… Well, how wrong does a person need to be?

  -The Spinster Chronicles, 28 January 1817

  “I knew it! I knew it! I simply knew it was going to work!”

  Tony rolled his eyes, but smiled with all the good nature he had ever wished himself to have. “Miranda, you can hardly take credit for my engagement.”

  “I can too!” She clapped her hands, twice, squealing to herself. “Oh, this is the most blessed news! What can I do? Let me do something, Tony!”

  He sat back in his chair, laughing to himself. “I have no idea what you can do, Miranda. We’ve only just received the news from her father that the engagement may proceed, which is why I didn’t tell you sooner. Her parents will arrive in a few weeks, and we will be able to be married shortly thereafter. We’ve already submitted the banns, and they were read on Sunday. You have a little over a month to do whatever you like.”

  Miranda spun in a circle clapping her hands again.

  Rufus, her adoring bloodhound, who had been dozing by the fire, suddenly sprang to life, barking a chorus to her applause, following her as she turned.

  “Yes, Rufus, yes!” Miranda cooed, reaching down to pet the eager dog. “It is a most joyous thing!”

  “I’m fairly certain he thinks you want him to do something,” Tony remarked as he crossed an ankle over his knee. “He doesn’t care one way or the other about my engagement.”

  That earned him a sour look, then Miranda returned her attention to the dog, cupping his face. “You do care about my insensitive stepson’s engagement, don’t you, darling? You want him to be happy, even if he doesn’t reciprocate.”

  Tony dropped his head back against the chair with a groan. “I want Rufus to be happy, Miranda. He’s an excellent dog, and a fine hunter.”

  “Ha!” Miranda cheered, patting her dog soundly. “Did you hear that, boy? He loves you! Go and see him!”

  Rufus was either the most brilliant dog in the world, or followed gestures with perfection, for he trotted over to Tony at once and put his head directly within petting distance of Tony’s dangling hand.

  Tony shook his head and scratched the dog’s ears. “How do you survive having such a woman as a mistress?”

  Rufus gave him a distinctly doleful look, made even more poignant by his slightly drooping features, as if to say, “You have no idea.”

  “I take my hat off to you, sir,” Tony murmured, moving his hand to scratch under the dog’s chin. “You are nobler than I would be.”

  Miranda laughed and put her hands on her hips. “You’re a fine pair, both of you. I’d send him to live with you if I wasn’t so terribly fond of him.”

  Tony smiled warmly at the animal, now arching his neck for more attention. “Well, if you decide to breed him, I’d happily take one of his offspring. Someone ought to carry on these magnificent bloodlines.” He cupped Rufus’s drooping face in his hands, forcing the sagging skin forward. “Yes, indeed, look at these features!”

  “Oh, stop,” Miranda laughed again, settling herself on the sofa. “Rufus, down.”

  Rufus looked over at her, seeming to beg against it, but at her look, he licked his face loudly and hunkered down to the ground, resting his head on his paws.

  Miranda nodded primly, then looked back at Tony. “Have you written to Ben of your news?”

  Tony nodded, easing himself back against the back of the chair once more. “I did, though I have yet to hear a response. If he can part with his idyllic country life, I’d love for him to stand up with me. If not, I’ll ask Henshaw.”

  Miranda tilted her head with a fond smile. “Dear Henshaw. We must find a good match for him next.”

  “Whatever you say, Miranda.” He waved a hand at her dismissively. “Marry off Henshaw, and Charlotte, and anyone else you like.”

  “You make it sound so interfering,” she protested in a wounded tone. “I am not a busybody.”

  He pinned her with a sardonic look. “Are you not?”

  She smirked in response, rolling her eyes at herself. “Oh, all right, so I am, but only in the best sense.”

  “That was the only way I meant it.” Tony smiled at her warmly. “You know what you mean to me, don’t you, Miranda? You know that marrying you was the best thing my father did.”

  She seemed surprised by that, swallowed once, giving him a misty smile. “You are very sweet to say so, Tony. I don’t know if I can accept such a statement, but marrying your father was certainly the best thing I did. He married well the first time, and I don’t mean by Society’s standards. There was real affection and love between your parents.”

  Tony shook his head regretfully. “I barely remember my mother. I was so young…”

  “He adored her,” Miranda told him. “We spoke of her often after he and I wed. How she had behaved, what she was like, her tastes, the silly games she used to play with you boys… I’ve done my best to help mold you and Ben into the men I felt she would want you to be, and sometimes… I think she and I have conversations of the heart.” She smiled at him then, and he could see the sheen of tears glistening in her fair eyes. “She would be so proud of you, Tony. Of you and Ben. And she would adore Georgie.”

  Tony’s throat constricted, and his eyes burned, feeling suddenly awash in memories and feelings long forgotten. “She would, wouldn’t she?”

  Miranda nodded repeatedly, one tear making its way down her cheek. She was quick to swipe it away and sniffed loudly. “Well, while we are on that subject… I don’t suppose you have given much thought to a ring for your bride, hmm?”

  He jerked. “No, not really. Georgie said she didn’t need one until the wedding, and I’d thought just to obtain a simple band. Georgie’s tastes are not very extravagant.”

  “That may be so, but the girl does deserve more finery than a simple band.” Miranda rose and moved to a desk in the corner of the sitting room. “I found this when going through some of your father’s things at Mawbry, and I intended to give it to you or Ben simply to keep until the time was right, but now…” She opened a drawer, pulled out something small, and closed the drawer quickly, turning to him.

  Tony frowned, rising. “What is it?”

  Miranda came towards him and gestured for his hand.

  He gave it, and she turned it over, then dropped a small item into his palm.

  “Tell me if this would do for your lady love,” Miranda said softly as she patted his hand, stepping away.

  Tony looked down and, in his palm, he saw a small ring with three emeralds set in it. He picked it up and looked more closely, taking in the faint marks of age on the gold band, yet the precious metal somehow still gleaming as if freshly gilded. Small diamonds bracketed the emeralds, and the setting was so fine, so delicate, that a passing eye would almost not notice it.

  Yet as he stared at it, he felt a tug at the back of his stomach, a knot that refused to dislodge, and he found himself nodding, smiling at the token.

  “Yes?” Miranda asked from the sofa where she sat once more.

  “Yes,” Tony repeated, looking over at her. “It’s perfect.”

  Miranda smiled knowingly. “I thought so as well. Your mother’s ring, Tony. It’s a sweet reminder for you both.”

  To
ny tucked the ring into his waistcoat pocket and nodded again. “Yes, it is.”

  They smiled at each other for a moment, then the clock on the mantle chimed the hour.

  Miranda glanced at it, then back at him. “When do you meet Georgie?”

  “Soon,” he replied with a sigh. “We’re to look at a town house, and then walk Hyde Park.” He tugged at his coat sleeves, brushing off any remnants of Rufus’s attentions, and then gestured at himself, looking back at Miranda. “What do you think?”

  She made a face and an indifferent noise.

  Tony coughed at that. “I beg your pardon?”

  Miranda rose, wrinkling her nose up in apparent distaste, and took two steps towards him. “If I may…?

  “Please,” Tony replied drily, beckoning her.

  She came to him, smoothed his hair, took his chin in hand, and turned his face one way, then another. “Well,” she sighed, “I suppose you’ll have to do.”

  He batted her hand away with a frown, making her laugh. “You are incorrigible.”

  Miranda acknowledged that with a dip of her chin. “But you love me.”

  “God help me,” Tony replied, leaning down to kiss her cheek quickly. “I’ll give Georgie your love.”

  “Please do,” she said as she took his hand and led him out. “And invite her for dinner on Thursday. Mr. Johnston insists.”

  “He does?” Tony queried mildly, looking down at her. “Or you do?”

  “Ta ta, darling!” she airily called, letting go of him and returning to the drawing room.

  He had to laugh at her antics. For all her quirks, Miranda was the most lovable woman on the planet, and he feared what he would have become without her.

  “Going out, Mr. Sterling?” the surprisingly young butler inquired.

  Tony nodded at him. “I am, yes. Is a hack available?”

  “It is, sir, if you’ll wait just a moment.” He signaled to one of the footmen, who left the house for only a minute or two before returning.

  Tony nodded at them both, then exited, climbing into the hack with ease and giving the address to the driver.

  He felt for the ring in his pocket and grinned at the weight of it against him.

  Georgie would not be expecting a ring like this, and certainly not one with any meaning attached to it. For all her years of dreaming of marriage, her expectations of the wedding itself were not high. She was fully cognizant of her financial situation, and that of her family, and she saw no need to push anybody to their limits in that way.

  She’d even told him she would wear one of her Sunday dresses for the wedding rather than procuring a new one.

  That seemed a bit stringent, even to him.

  Perhaps Miranda could help him with that one.

  Georgie wouldn’t take kindly to receiving charity or anything resembling it, but Miranda was generous, and she was impossible to refuse.

  The Lambert residence was not far from the house the Johnstons were renting, so the drive was not long. Tony disembarked from the carriage almost the moment it halted, and strode his way up to the door proudly, oddly hoping that the neighbors would see.

  Word of his engagement likely hadn’t spread very far, nobody knowing enough of him to care, but Georgie’s was a name that everybody knew, and once word got out that she was engaged, everybody would be watching from windows.

  He found a great deal of satisfaction in that thought.

  He wanted people to watch for him and Georgie. He wanted others to take notice of their good fortune, more on his side than hers. She would gain respectability by their marriage, and lose the unfortunate title of spinster, but nothing else would change. She would be the same woman she always had been, he would insist on that, only now she would be a wife.

  Would her mother think and speak more warmly of her once she was wed? He hoped so, for Georgie’s sake, but she didn’t seem to have much hope on that score. Apparently, her mother would only move onto the subject of children and the management of their house, which prompted Tony to consider inquiring after houses in Northumberland rather than Essex.

  But Hazelwood Park would do well enough, he was certain of it. Georgie would have the full running of it, from top to bottom, and he would focus on the management of the estate and tenants. He’d already set up a meeting with the existing agent, who seemed relieved that someone had taken an interest in the place. The family who had once lived there had long ago left it empty, only making a passable effort to support the tenants.

  Tony could do better, he was sure of it, and there was real possibility for the area.

  He’d been at a loss to know what to do with himself when he’d resigned his commission, not knowing anything beyond the fact that his time in the army was done. Others had told him it was a foolish notion, considering he was a younger son without much hope of improvement in status from when he’d begun his service. He’d seen the wisdom in their suggestion, but there was no future for him in the army either.

  Now he had found a purpose and opportunity for his future, and there was an excitement that filled him with that thought. He was only beginning on the path that would set the course for the rest of his life and having Georgie by his side would make all the difference.

  He raised his hand to knock at the door only for the door to swing open as Georgie exited, bonnet and spencer in place, looking bright and fresh in a pale muslin. She tugged on her gloves, widening her eyes meaningfully.

  “Are we meant to make haste?” he inquired mildly.

  Georgie glared at him and took his arm, forcing him to turn around. “Yes,” she hissed.

  Tony looked behind her and saw Bessie coming out, frantically tying the ribbons of her cloak. “Oh, good. I was concerned we would be unchaperoned.”

  “If only,” Georgie muttered. “Aunt Faith had determined that she would chaperone us on this errand, but I managed to steal Bessie away before Aunt Faith had seen the hack. So yes, we really must make haste!”

  Tony laughed and hurried both women to the coach, giving Bessie an apologetic look. “So sorry, Bessie. I know you’re not the usual sort of chaperone under these circumstances.”

  Bessie shrugged, smiling. “Not the usual thing, sir, but I can’t see anybody raising a fuss over it. I’ll ride atop with the driver, sir, if you don’t mind.”

  He inclined his head politely, knowing Bessie had been his favorite maid for a reason. “Whatever you prefer, of course.”

  The driver hopped down and assisted her up, then nodded at Tony, who entered the coach, taking the backwards-facing seat.

  “Were you watching for me out the window?” Tony asked Georgie as the hack pulled away.

  Georgie gave him a coy smile. “I might have been. What girl isn’t so invested in seeing her intended?”

  “Or so desperate to be away from home?”

  She grinned outright. “Or that. Now tell me about this house.”

  “Tony, I think we should take it.”

  “But the garden is small.”

  “That’s not so very important. Besides, we could always have it done over eventually.”

  “Eventually, indeed. Do you have any idea what a renovation like that would cost?”

  “But we are to become wealthy landowners, you forget. In a few years, the cost will be nothing.”

  Tony threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, well, in that case.”

  Georgie snickered and turned to face Bessie behind them, somehow still maintaining a decent walking pace though walking backwards. “Bessie, what did you make of the house?”

  “It’s not my place to say, Miss,” Bessie replied obediently.

  “No, go on,” Georgie insisted, smiling at her. “You’re bound to notice things that Captain Sterling and I do not. I insist, share your thoughts.”

  Tony shook his head in amusement. Asking a servant for an opinion on a house? It was a singular notion, and one that was entirely worthy of Georgie. He didn’t disapprove in the least, in fact, it was a rather good idea; h
e was just certain he would never have thought of it.

  Then again, Rollins might have had a very worthwhile opinion on the subject.

  Perhaps he would have to revisit the place with his valet in tow.

  “The servants’ quarters were of a good size, Miss,” Bessie told her, seeming to choose her words with care. “The corridors are easily navigated, and the kitchen was spacious enough to host a fair party, if you were so inclined. It was a bit drafty, but not in an obvious way. I think you could make it over nicely, Miss.”

  Georgie nodded very firmly and turned back around, joining her arm with Tony’s again. “There, you see? Bessie thinks we should take it.”

  “Did she say that?” Tony asked with interest. “I didn’t hear those words at all.”

  “Men never hear what women hear,” she assured him. “It’s a well-known truth.”

  “And which edition of the Spinster Chronicles is that gem from?”

  She elbowed him hard but smiled at him. “You are so rude.”

  “I know.”

  “Tony!”

  Tony looked up to see Hugh riding towards them, looking only slightly more put together than he had when he’d last seen him.

  “Oh, blast,” Tony muttered under his breath.

  “What?” Georgie asked quietly.

  He shook his head. Now was not the time to explain the complicated nature of his relationship with this particular cousin. “Hugh,” he greeted, trying for a smile.

  Hugh reined the horse in, taking in the pair of them with some interest. “Walking the park, are we?”

  Tony nodded once. “We are, yes. Hugh, do you know Miss Allen?”

  Thankfully, Hugh had the good manners to tip his hat in greeting. “I do, a little. How are you, Miss Allen?”

  Georgie bobbed a curtsey and smiled with all friendliness. “I am very well, thank you, Mr. Sterling.”

  Hugh nodded, but was already looking back at Tony. “I’ve heard a rumor about you, Tony. Can you guess what it is?”

  Oh, to be miles and miles away from this conversation.