The Major and the Country Miss

by Dorothy Elbury

  ‘Twenty minutes, then.’ She laughed as she made for the stairs. ‘And don’t keep me waiting!’

  ‘One moment, if you please, Miss Venables!’

  Having seen that Georgianne was about to leave, Fenton had risen to his feet and was hurrying towards her. ‘I wonder if you would mind asking Miss Highsmith if she could spare me a few minutes of her time?’ he asked anxiously. ‘I do need to speak to her rather urgently.’

  Her foot already on the bottom step, Georgianne paused and turned. ‘I’m afraid Stephanie has already left Gresham Hall, Mr Fenton,’ she informed him. ‘She took off for Highsmith House a good ten minutes ago— you’ll need to hurry if you want to catch up with her.’

  His face cleared. ‘Oh, thank you—I’d best be on my way then!’ He turned to go but then, as if something had just occurred to him, he turned and said, somewhat shamefacedly, ‘Sorry about this morning’s little fiasco, Miss Venables. I had no intention of harming you, I swear!’

  Georgianne, who could not help but feel rather sorry for the man, especially in view of the rather dim prospects that she knew were in store for him, was quick to assure him that she bore him no ill will. Thanking her profusely, he made at once for the front entrance while she, with a quick wave at her cousin, turned and sped off up the stairs.

  Scarcely fifteen minutes later, clad in one of her prettiest gowns, with her hair restored to its normal elegant coiffure, the much-refreshed Georgianne stepped down from the rear terrace and started to make her way down to the lake path. She could not imagine why Catford had chosen to arrange this somewhat clandestine meeting and could only suppose that he wanted to share something of his and Alice’s future plans with her.

  There was, however, no sign of her cousin when she stepped up into the summerhouse so, walking over to the opening that faced towards the lakeside, and gazing out at the peaceful vista beyond, she found herself forlornly recalling her previous visit to the spot. Hardly more than a week ago and so much had happened in that short space of time. How she would be able to persuade herself to return to the same dreary day-to-day existence that had been her lot until Maitland had arrived and turned her life upside down, she could not even begin to contemplate.

  ‘Still studying the wildlife, I see,’ came a voice behind her.

  Her eyes widening and in total confusion, she spun round to find herself face to face with the subject of her mournful reverie.

  ‘I thought you had gone!’ she gasped. ‘Cat asked me to meet him here!’

  ‘So he told me,’ observed Maitland, regarding her with a certain amount of anxiety on his face. ‘Would you prefer that I left?’

  ‘Oh, no! Please don’t!’ she hastened to reply. ‘That is—I—er—you are very welcome to stay and enjoy the view, of course!’

  ‘And a most enchanting view it is,’ he returned softly, his eyes never leaving her face.

  At his words, a rosy blush covered Georgianne’s cheeks and, all at once, she felt quite breathless and was unable to do anything other than gaze back into his eyes, her heart almost grinding to a stop as she tried to make sense of the unfathomable expression therein.

  ‘I couldn’t believe that you would leave without even saying goodbye to me,’ she managed eventually. ‘I dare say you must regard me as the most dreadful nuisance, but—’

  Her words stuttered to a halt as Maitland, with a helpless sigh, reached out and pulled her into his arms.

  ‘M-Mr Maitland!’ she squeaked in astonishment, as she felt him bury his face into her hair. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m trying to tell you that I love you, you darling little idiot!’ he groaned impatiently. ‘And, for pity’s sake, do stop calling me Mr Maitland!’

  Unable to believe her ears, Georgianne, who could only assume that Maitland must be set on playing some sort of hideous game with her, tried, without success, to extract herself from his hold.

  ‘You’re talking nonsense!’ she protested. ‘Please let me go!’

  ‘Not until you let me kiss you!’ he retorted, holding her even more closely.

  Since the thought of being kissed by him once more was almost too much of a temptation to resist, Georgianne found herself hesitating momentarily, causing Maitland to hold his breath as, with an expectant gleam in his eyes, he stared down at her.

  But, then, with a decided shake of her head, she recommenced her struggle saying, somewhat reluctantly, ‘You’re really not being at all sensible, Mr M—I mean—er, Will. Cat could appear at any minute!’

  Maitland heaved an exasperated sigh. Despite Catford having advised him to take his cousin by surprise and meet any resistance head on, he was finding the going much tougher than he had expected. ‘Do stop finding excuses, Georgianne,’ he urged her. ‘Catford has no intention of showing up, I promise you. It was merely a ploy to get you here so that you and I might have a few minutes alone together and, if you really don’t want me to kiss you, you only have to say so!’

  Biting her lip, she regarded him silently for a moment or two then, making up her mind, she said, ‘Well, I dare say I would like it very much, but I really can’t imagine why you should want to do so!’

  ‘Why I should—!’

  Suddenly incensed, he loosened his hold and, lifting his hands to grip her by the shoulders, he began to shake her, roaring, ‘Because I love you, love you, dammit! How many more times must I tell you? I love you and I’m trying to ask you to marry me!’

  At this, her face went white and she tore herself from his grip. A stolen kiss before he left was one thing, but this was too much to bear. ‘No, no!’ she whispered, backing away from him. ‘You can’t love me—you mustn’t—it’s quite impossible!’

  Having remembered that both Catford and the earl had told him that it would be far better to let Georgianne reveal the truth about her birth in her own way, rather than letting her find out that he had known about it all along, Maitland took a deep breath and, doing his best to control his impatience, said quietly, ‘Oh, but I can and I must, Georgianne, and it is perfectly possible, I assure you!’ He paused and an apprehensive frown sifted across his brow. ‘Unless, of course, you can’t find it in you to return my sentiments! Is that what this is all about, Georgianne? Are you trying to tell me that you don’t love me?’

  Startled at the sudden directness of the question, Georgianne could do no more than shake her head and sigh, ‘No, Will, I’m not, because, as it happens, I love you with all my heart. Nevertheless, what you are asking of me is still impossible!’

  Although his heart was filled with joy at her response, Maitland was almost at the end of his tether. ‘Why is it impossible?’ he pressed her.

  ‘Because—because—’ she began, but then, pausing, she shrugged her shoulders resignedly and went on, ‘I suppose it’s only fair that you should be given the true reason, Will and, since you won’t want to marry me anyway, once you know, I might just as well tell you straight out.’ Facing him squarely, she then said, ‘The fact of the matter is that I can’t marry anyone, Will, because I had the great misfortune to be born out of wedlock!’

  For a moment, whilst inwardly applauding that she had finally found the courage to bring her fears out into the open, Maitland regarded her in absolute silence then, placing his hands back on her shoulders, he looked down into her eyes, now moist with unshed tears, and said gently, ‘And you really believe that my knowing that is likely to make the slightest bit of difference to the way I feel about you, Georgianne?’

  ‘It may not matter to you, Will,’ she replied stubbornly, ‘but you have a mother and sisters and—oh, I don’t know—a host of other friends and relatives who would, I assure you, mind very much about such a thing!’

  ‘I’m afraid my people don’t move in such exalted circles as yours do, sweetheart,’ he said, giving her a slightly rueful smile. ‘They are merely run-of-the-mill country farmers and, I promise you, far too wrapped up in their own affairs to concern themselves over such trivialities.’

  Wh
en Georgianne simply shook her head and made no response to these hearty assurances, Maitland, for once in his life, found himself at a complete loss as to how best to proceed. Although he was reasonably confident that pulling her into his arms and kissing her until she was too weak to argue any more might well achieve the desired effect, he was not entirely sure that this would do anything to help resolve the situation in the long term.

  Realising that this was a decision that Georgianne would have to come to terms with in her own way, he stepped away from her and turning, walked towards the doorway and stared across the lake, racking his brains to try and come up with something that might persuade her to change her mind. His eyes drifted idly over the tranquil waters of the lake where they lit upon a group of swans making its stately and graceful way upstream. As he watched them, the vaguest germ of an idea began to form in his head and, drawing in a deep breath, he turned back to face Georgianne.

  After he had moved from her side, she had waited, momentarily, for him to return but when, after several minutes, he gave no sign of coming back, she was not sure whether to go over and join him at the doorway or simply leave the building altogether. In the end, she did neither but went instead to the far side of the pavilion where she sat down on one of the curved stone benches and watched him as, with his arms folded across his chest, he leaned against the doorframe, seemingly engrossed in admiring the view.

  As if it weren’t bad enough that she had allowed herself to fall in love with the man, she thought, disconsolately fidgeting with the string of pearls at her neck. But then to discover that he returned her love and actually wanted to marry her was more than her heart could bear. Having been safely cloistered within the warmth and security of the Gresham family for so long, the thought of going out into a world where, at any time and on any day, the story of her dubious history might be made common currency, dragging both his name and her own into the public limelight, was too awful even to contemplate. Not that Venables was really her surname, as she quickly had to remind herself. For, even though she had always been known by her father’s surname, the name actually written on her birth record was Georgianne Venables Yardley, which had been her mother’s family name. Painfully aware that this would be the name that would be published in the newspapers, read out in the banns and printed on any marriage certificate, she found it hard to believe that Will could really be as light-heartedly dismissive about the matter as he had seemed to be. She felt sure that his mother would have something to say on the subject—it had, after all, been Viscount Tatler’s mother who had insisted on Tatler withdrawing his offer and, although Will had referred to his family as country farmers, she was well aware that they were actually landed gentlefolk, whose social mores were hardly likely to be a great deal different from those of her own circle.

  She was still pondering on the pros and cons of her dilemma when she heard Maitland crossing the floor to stand in front of her. She started to rise but, reaching out his hand, he pressed her back on to the bench and took a seat beside her.

  ‘Do you recall that conversation we had about the various habits of swans and other creatures?’ he asked as, swinging round to face her, his eyes captured hers.

  Unable to tear her glance away, she gave a breathless nod, achingly conscious of the fact that her ability to think straight would be so much easier if he didn’t always have this devastating effect upon her senses.

  ‘Well, I seem to remember you remarking on the fact that it always seems to be the female’s lot to stand on the sidelines awaiting her fate, whilst the various males of the species battle it out amongst themselves until a victor finally emerges. Do you remember?’

  Not entirely sure where this odd conversation could be leading, Georgianne could only reply with another wordless nod.

  ‘Then, if you would, I should like you to pay particular attention to what I am about to say to you.’

  Without taking his eyes from hers, he reached across and grasped one of her hands and drew it towards him. ‘Now, my love, the thing is this,’ he went on, as he gently caressed her fingers, ‘whilst I would be perfectly willing to take on any other fellow that you cared to name in order to win you over, I find that I just don’t have the strength to keep pitting my wits against stubborn pride and blind prejudice. In one breath, you tell me that you love me and, in the next, that marriage to me is out of the question and, since I have pointed out a good many reasons why this simply isn’t so, it would appear that, in this instance, I’m the one who is having to do the standing around and waiting!’

  As Georgianne let out a gasp of protest, he put up his hand to still her.

  ‘Just let me finish, my love,’ he said. ‘It isn’t that I object to the waiting, as such, but I just need to know one thing. If you can honestly tell me that you would prefer to spend the rest of your life regretting what might have been, rather than face up to whatever fate or fortune may decide to throw at us in the future, then I will bow out of your life this very minute and never trouble you again. The question is this, sweetheart— do you really want me to admit defeat and give up now or do you love me enough to take the risk? You have to decide, Georgianne—this time the choice is yours!’

  Letting go of her hand, he rose to his feet and, his lips tightly compressed, he stepped back, nervously awaiting her answer. There was nothing more he could do now. The rest was up to her.

  As she stared up at his tight-lipped countenance, Georgianne found herself unable to think properly and, as the seconds ticked by one by one, she struggled to reach a decision. Then, finally, she gathered up her courage and asked, her voice a tremulous whisper, ‘And you’re really sure that you are prepared to face up to all the spiteful backbiting, Will?’

  Hardly daring to breathe, lest he break the spell, Maitland gave a brief nod. ‘Whatever happens, I promise that we’ll weather it together,’ he assured her, as he desperately fought back the urge to sweep her into his arms and soothe away her fears.

  As the faintest glimmerings of hope began to stir in her breast, huge tears welled up in Georgianne’s eyes and she knew that, no matter what difficulties the future might hold in store for them, she loved him too much to let him go. Letting out a little sob, she jumped to her feet and flung herself into his eagerly waiting arms.

  ‘Oh, Will,’ she cried, as she felt the warmth of his love enfold her. ‘I choose you—I choose you!’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ replied Maitland fervently, as he closed his eyes and offered up a silent prayer of gratitude. ‘Now, for pity’s sake, kiss me before I lose my mind entirely!’

  * * * * *

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

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  First published in Great Britain 2009

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  © Dorothy Elbury 2009

  ISBN:978-1-408-90822-8