“Undoubtedly, it was that I am to be married,” Tony replied with a bland smile. “To Miss Allen here.”
Hugh nodded, smiling a little as though it were all a very fine joke.
“As it happens,” Tony informed him, “that’s no rumor. It’s the truth. Which you would know if you spoke with your brother at all.”
“Tony,” Georgie muttered beside him.
For once, he ignored her.
“I am to be married to Miss Allen,” Tony went on, enjoying the stunned expression on his cousin’s face, “and we would be pleased to have you attend in a few weeks.”
Hugh blinked several times, his horse snuffling in agitation, then looked at Georgie with disgust. He shook his head and shifted back to Tony. “Good lord, Tony, what have you done? I told you to break up the Spinsters, not join them.” He snorted in derision and dug his heels into his horse, riding off quickly.
Tony closed his eyes in abject horror, feeling how still the woman beside him had suddenly become.
“Georgie…” he began softly.
“Don’t,” she clipped, jerking her arm away from his hold. “Don’t you dare.” She walked a few steps ahead of him, her fingers clenching tightly, then unclenching as she paced a little, her bonnet obscuring her face.
Or perhaps that was simply the way she was turned.
Her steps were clipped, harsh, and it was as if he could feel every one of them himself, each making him jump a little. His anxiety heightened the longer the silence stretched on, the back of his neck growing heated and damp with perspiration.
He looked to the heavens, praying for some semblance of mercy in this moment.
Georgie stopped pacing, then moved directly in front of him, fury rolling off her in waves. “What did he mean by that, Anthony Sterling? Break up the Spinsters?”
“That was what he wanted, yes,” Tony admitted, knowing he would never survive unless there was complete honesty in this. “When I first arrived in London, he approached me and asked me to intervene.”
Georgie laughed once in disbelief. “And you accepted that? You agreed to it?”
“Not at first, no,” Tony insisted, looking around to see if anybody marked them. “I told him I would never interfere in the affairs of a group of women.”
“And yet, here you are,” Georgie snapped, folding her arms. “Interfering.”
Tony exhaled shortly through his nose. “I was curious after reading the articles. After hearing what was said. I wanted introductions, and I needed him to make them.”
Georgie was nodding, though there was nothing at all agreeable in her expression. “Introductions. To the women terrorizing London with their wild ideas and moral stances, preventing marriages because they can’t manage one for themselves. You saw the need to insert yourself into something that we worked so hard to set up purely because your pompous peacock of a cousin found it inconvenient to not have a naïve girl to ravish at his pleasure?”
He’d never seen high dudgeon like this before, and it rankled him. “That wasn’t it at all.”
“Oh no?” She nodded again, almost shaking with indignation. “You sought out Prue, the sweetest, shyest creature in the world, and you made her trust you. You, who were tasked with dismantling the only group of friends she has ever had, manipulated her into liking you.”
“Now wait one moment,” he countered, raising a finger.
But Georgie wouldn’t stop. “You convinced my cousin, who hates absolutely no one, to give you introductions and take you under her wing, knowing she was a nurturing soul. You took advantage of her goodness. To what end? To get to me?” Her eyes widened, and her nostrils flared. “That’s how they told you to break us up, isn’t it? They thought that if I was gone, the rest would crumble and fade away.”
Tony’s temper flared, and he lifted his chin. “Georgie,” he ground out, his teeth aching with their clenching.
“Well, let me tell you something, Captain,” she overrode, spitting his title out with venom. “The Spinsters are not going anywhere. If I was gone, they would rise up in defense and become an even greater annoyance than anyone would anticipate. But I’m not gone. Not in the least.”
“Georgie,” Tony barked, not caring if anyone could hear him now. “Stop.”
She scoffed loudly. “I’m not one of your inferiors, Captain. I don’t have to obey you, nor do you have any control over me.”
“And you think I obey any command given me, no matter who issues it?” he demanded, flinging an arm out. “For heaven’s sake, Georgie…”
She shook her head, not willing to listen, it seemed. “I should have seen it. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you from the start, but the others were so convinced. And I believed you so easily after… I believed everything you said. Simple little spinster, just as naïve as everyone else…”
Tony’s heart lurched, and his eyes narrowed. “Georgie.”
Georgie looked up at him then, her jaw set. “If this is how things really are, we should not marry.”
The breath seemed to vanish from his lungs and he looked down for a moment, his hands going to rest on his hips. Then he glanced up at her. “Are you finished?”
Her jaw shifted to one side, then back to center, and she nodded once.
He exhaled shortly, fighting for control. “How many times have I stood by you? All of you. Or gone to some young woman’s aid because she seemed in need? When have you ever seen me converse with any men that would make your list of unfortunate candidates? Or behave in any way that would be deemed disreputable? I’ve earned the scorn of many eligible men in London, just for associating with you, because all of them wanted me to interfere with the Spinsters. And in case it has escaped your notice, I haven’t done anything remotely resembling their plans for me.”
Georgie shrugged one shoulder, not at all convinced. “Perhaps you just wanted to get on my good side. Even gentlemen can have nefarious intentions.”
Her coldness shook him, and he felt the fight go out of him. “If you truly think that I am incapable of acting in any manner other than what you deem my own self-interest, then you’re right.” He shook his head slowly, his eyes trained on hers. “We shouldn’t marry.”
She stared back at him, her breathing unsteady, her gaze piercing. “It’s settled, then.” She nodded at him and swept passed him.
“Where are you going?” he asked her, moving to follow.
“Home, Captain,” she called over a shoulder. “To my family who loves me. Do not call on me again, we have nothing to discuss.”
Bessie stared after her, then looked at Tony in horror.
He nodded at her. “Go with her, Bessie. See that she gets home safely.”
“Aye, sir,” she whimpered with a curtsey. She turned and dashed after Georgie, who did not look back at him even once.
He stood there in the lane, faintly aware of his heart pounding, but wondering at the sensation.
She hadn’t shed a single tear. She’d just broken their short-lived engagement, crushed his heart underfoot, and been too enraged to cry or to even appear remotely disposed to tears.
Was that significant?
What was he supposed to do now?
Tony inhaled a shaky breath, finding it all too painful, and began the slow journey back to his apartments, the weight of the ring in his pocket greater than anything he’d ever felt in his life.
Except for the suddenly crushing weight of despair settling in his chest.
Chapter Twenty
Unsolicited advice is sometimes the best sort. Provided one is open enough to hear it.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 1 May 1817
It was a wonder how dreary England could be at times, even for one who had never been outside of it. She ought to have been accustomed to the resident gloom that pervaded her home and thought she had been.
But nothing could compare with the dreariness at present.
Georgie sat in the window seat of her room, staring out at the streets below, hair unbound and
loose about her shoulders.
Tangled and knotted, surely. Yesterday had been a day of ranting and raging about her room, pulling at her hair, and knotting it with her agitation, and she hadn’t taken a brush to it since then.
The day before, she’d been almost herself and had even succeeded in descending the stairs for breakfast properly dressed. It had been close to luncheon and there was no breakfast to be had, but she’d done it.
She hadn’t managed since, though.
What would be the point?
Today was a meeting of the Spinsters. It was Writing Day, even, and here she sat. She was dressed, if her oldest, most faded, and most comfortable calico was considered being dressed, but that was all. Her feet were bare, and her toes cold, but no more than the rest of her.
She wasn’t going down; she’d decided on that hours ago. She couldn’t face them like this.
Not after what happened.
There would be questions and demands for explanation. There would be judgments and advice, pity and sympathy, and probably some exclamations of her own idiocy. Some would be on her side, but she could not account for all of them.
She couldn’t confess that she’d been wanting to end the Spinsters herself, and then had admitted a man into their company whose sole purpose had been that exact thing.
The shame was too much to bear.
Her mortification knew no ends.
But that had nothing to do with the Spinsters.
She’d loved him. She had given her heart to a man who had come to them under false pretenses. She could not trust anything about him, knowing now what had brought him to them. She should have trusted her first instincts and sent him away, saving herself this misery and heartache.
Love. What a foolish, pathetic notion that had been. A man worth loving would have been honest with her. He would have proceeded properly with courtship and paying proper addresses, not sneaking her away to steal moments alone.
You went willingly, her heart reminded her. You ran without any prodding.
She hissed and wrenched her gaze away from the window.
She knew she’d been a fool, that she’d been so overjoyed with the newfound sensations that she hadn’t managed a moment of sense. She ought to have seen what a mockery it was, what a waste of her heart and energy.
Except it hadn’t been anything of the sort.
It had been wonderful and delicious and heady, everything she had ever wanted love to be and more. He had been witty and charming and real, proper and perfect without being stodgy, and he had worshipped her.
He’d sparred with her better than either of her younger brothers had managed to, and with far more intellect, but he had worshipped her.
That ought to have been the first sign of trouble for her.
No one felt that way about Georgiana Allen. They never had. All his compliments and flirtations, all the looks and smiles and kisses…
She bit back a combination of a sigh and a whimper.
Those had all been part of his plan to seduce her away from the Spinsters. To make her forget herself and revert to the silly girl she had once been and take up once more the dreams she had long ago set aside.
He had made her feel things again.
Wish for things.
Hope.
A weak sob escaped Georgie, accompanying tears suddenly filling her eyes. She buried her face into her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs.
How could anything as blissful as the way she had felt only days ago result in the tearing apart of one’s very soul?
For this agony was nothing less than that.
Tony’s betrayal, however sharp, had been nothing compared to her own betrayal. She had betrayed herself in this, blinding herself to the reality of her situation, and his intentions. For a woman who prided herself on her good sense and judgment, she’d had none of it here.
There was a soft knock at her door, but as it was not mealtime, she did not acknowledge it. She’d only been taking trays the last few days, unable to bear her aunt’s tirade any longer.
She did not need to hear how disappointed her mother would be when she returned to England, or how she had given up the honor of the family by ending the engagement. It made no difference that there had been no formal announcement of its dissolution, she stated, the word would get out.
Georgie did not care.
If everything she had heard about herself was true, she could not be more disliked than she already was.
The knock sounded again, and again she ignored it.
She was not coming down. She was not seeing anyone.
The door opened without her consent, and she turned her head to glare at whoever dared enter without permission.
Izzy stood there, her brow furrowed, her wide eyes confused. “Georgie.”
She ought to have snapped at her, the way she wished to. She ought to have yelled or screamed, thrown a pillow, or said any number of things designed to hurt or offend.
But this was Izzy.
She could not.
“Izzy, please,” she pleaded, her voice breaking.
Her cousin’s brow cleared, and she came into the room, closing the door quickly.
“No,” Georgie protested, tears rising. “Please…”
“It’s no use protesting,” Izzy said lightly as she came to her, sitting opposite her in the window seat. “My cousin and best friend is in need, and I am going to sit here and be loving for as long as it takes.”
Georgie managed a watery smile at her. “As long as it takes? For what?”
Izzy shrugged, smiling. “For you to be happy once more.”
Oh. That.
She shook her head slowly. “I fear that will take a very long time, Izzy. Despondency is all I know.”
“Why?” Izzy cocked her head and placed a hand over hers. “Why so despondent? Because Tony’s gone?”
Georgie’s face crumpled and a sob broke free. “No. And yes.” She inhaled sharply. “Oh, Izzy, I don’t know what to believe. Do I listen to my heart, which may betray me, or my head, which seeks to know truth?”
“Ideally,” Izzy prodded gently, “I believe you listen to both.”
Somehow, Georgie laughed and shook her head. “I cannot listen to both. They are at war, and with good reason on each side. I must choose one or the other, and I’m not sure I can bear to.”
Izzy squeezed her hand tightly, seeming close to tears herself. “What happened, Georgie? You haven’t said a word about it except that you were no longer engaged, and you’ve hardly left your room. This isn’t like you. You always march forward with a purpose, your head held high.”
Georgie jerked her hand away from Izzy and sprang to her feet, shaking her head frantically. “No, that is not the woman I am. It is only the woman everybody thinks me to be. Does everybody seem to think that I have no heart? No real emotions of my own?”
Izzy sat in stunned silence, her hand slowly returning to her lap.
Georgie grabbed at her hair, tilting her head back as tears leaked from both eyes. “Do you think that I should not have loved a man so deeply that the loss of it makes the thought of living unbearable? That I am not capable of such passion? I have no sense of who I am anymore, no idea how to proceed, how to act, how to breathe…” She suddenly wrapped her arms around herself, moaning weakly. “I can’t breathe, Izzy.”
Her knees unexpectedly weakened, and she began to crumple, but Izzy was suddenly there to steady her. Together they sank to the ground, and Izzy held her close.
“Oh, sweet Georgie,” Izzy soothed, brushing her hair back gently. “Of course, you should be miserable for a time. I know what a fierce heart you are in possession of, and how much you love Tony.”
Even in her state, Georgie did not miss Izzy’s choice of words.
Love. Not loved.
Present. Not past.
Her heart keened, and she leaned against Izzy feebly.
“Why this misery, dear?” Izzy asked as she ran her fingers through Georg
ie’s hair. “Why did you break it off?”
Georgie stilled and slowly pushed herself off Izzy, staring at her in disbelief. “Why would you think that I am the one who cried off?”
Izzy frowned a little and began fiddling with her skirts. “I just… Well, Tony is a man of honor, and I cannot see him jilting anybody, least of all someone he loves as he does you.”
“Oh, but I would jilt him?” Georgie scoffed loudly and got to her feet. “I would cast aside a man so honorable and good purely because of my own pride and out of spite?”
Izzy’s eyes widened. “Georgie, don’t… I didn’t mean…”
“Is that what people will think?” she demanded, somehow suddenly beyond tears. “They will blame me, won’t they? They will sympathize with Tony, for who could bear to marry someone as heartless as me?”
“Georgie,” Izzy whimpered as she reached for her. “Come downstairs with me. Come see our friends and let us comfort you.”
Georgie shook her head and went to her bureau, fishing out stockings and quickly slipping them on. “No, I thank you,” she spat, tearing a hole in one stocking as she pulled it up. She shook her head, not particularly caring at this moment. “I don’t need comfort or pity. I need a walk. A very, very long walk.”
“Georgie, no,” Izzy pleaded, coming over to her. “It’s raining, and you don’t want…”
“I do want!” Georgie cried, slapping her hands away and reaching for her boots. “I do want. Did that never occur to anybody? I do want, and I want many, many things. And right now, I do not want to be reminded that I am still a spinster and going to remain a spinster until I can convince some other poor man to offer for me, or until I am dead in the ground.” She frantically tied the laces of her boots. “All I want is to go for a walk in the rain!”
Izzy sank back onto the bed, nodding. “All right, Georgie,” she whispered.
Georgie moved to the door in quick strides, then chanced a glance back at her poor, sweet cousin. “I’m sorry.”
She saw Izzy nod, but couldn’t stay. She moved down the corridor quickly, calling for a coat, bonnet, and umbrella as she plaited her hair.
The Merry Lives of Spinsters Page 28