Onslow laughed, but it was an unpleasant sound. ‘Then Colonel Bellamy—’
Georgette’s temper had led her to suggest more than she wished to. ‘Please my lord, no more. I have had quite enough of intrusive conversations in the last two days. Colonel Bellamy refines too much on a single encounter we had three years ago, and now you refine too much upon this!’ She crumpled the note in her hand and threw it in the fire. ‘I did meet the colonel last night, with my sister Katerina present, and heard what he wished to say to me — but how this is any of your affair escapes me. If you think me too easy with my reputation, please feel free to drop the connection.’
‘Miss Fortune! No, please. It is not that—’
‘Then why are you here?’ She had a moment’s panic that broke through her temper. ‘You did not read it?’
‘Of course not.’ He watched as her eyes closed in relief, but when she opened them his jaw seemed more set. He breathed deeply, and seemed to try another tack. ‘I am merely concerned, as a friend, as someone who knows how invisible you are in this situation to those who should protect you, that you are being led into an intrigue. You cannot know him.’
Georgette was beside herself now with both rage and humiliation. ‘You claim such a friendship then? You insult my family and wish to protect me beneath my father’s roof?’ He was visibly struck by this. ‘And from what do you protect me? Do you think that such a man as Colonel Bellamy could have only dishonourable intentions towards me?’
Onslow wanted to apologise, but he too had a temper. ‘He has written you a note! At a house party where anyone might see it — vile cats like the viscountess and her cohort. People might have noticed, and talked—’
Georgette glared at him. ‘Two notes, actually. One to summon me last night. Which I, being an easy female, responded to.’
‘Georgette!’ Onslow said, using her name for the first time. ‘You were with your sister, I know that. I am not suggesting — I would never suggest that you are — those words you said … Indeed, it is because I know you are not that I venture to warn you, as a friend—’
‘You claim such a friendship after only four days?’ She raised her brows at him, breathing as deeply as he.
He was bewildered. They had surely been friends longer than that? ‘I knew you in London—’ he said, vaguely.
‘No. I knew you!’ she threw at him, and he stepped back, amazed at the venom and hurt in her voice.
‘What do you mean by that?’ but she had turned to the small fire and her back was to him. He saw her hand go towards her face and he fancied that she dashed away a tear. He was shaken. How had this conversation turned so ill? He moved forward to touch her shoulder before he recalled himself. ‘Miss Fortune! Georgette!’
She shook him off as though burned. ‘Please, go, my lord. You have warned me and I am thus chastened.’ She turned then, blazing eyes looking into his, the amber flecks the colour of molten fire.
He pulled himself up, and bowed slightly. ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Fortune. I have overstepped myself. I can only say, I thought we were better friends.’
‘Oh, stop!’ she cried, one hot tear spilling over. ‘I cannot bear it!’
Faulkes entered and said in his usual friendly tone, ‘Oh you found her, Onslow! Are you coming with us to the village, Miss Fortune?’ He stopped, looking from one to the other. ‘Is something—?’ He recovered his manners in time to stop the question.
Georgette turned and smiled at him. ‘You are always so polite, Sir Justin.’ Onslow took the remark as it was meant, a slap in the face. ‘I will not go to the village this morning, I have some duties to attend to. I hope you have a pleasant drive.’
‘Well, thank you,’ said Faulkes, a trifle surprised by her formality. He looked to Onslow, who seemed stuffed. ‘Lucian?’
Onslow woke up and made her a bow. ‘We’ll leave you to — to your labours, Miss Fortune.’
As they left the room she imagined that Sir Justin would ask, ‘What happened there?’ and Georgette wondered what he would reply. Could he answer? For she had been in such a tumult that she certainly could not. She sat down in the window seat, trembling, but soon sought her room as tears threatened to overcome her.
Driving Onslow to the village was a trial. Faulkes’ attempt at ferreting out the problem was not truly successful. ‘Did you quarrel with Miss Fortune, Lucian?’ he asked in an astounded voice.
‘I cannot be sure,’ was his friend’s strange answer.
After a mile of silence, Sir Justin asked again, ‘What did you disagree about? She seemed very angry.’
‘Yes,’ Onslow said, ‘she did. But I am not perfectly clear why.’
‘I have always known Miss Fortune to be of even temper. It is most unlike her.’
Onslow looked ahead, ‘Yes, you knew her in London. She said I did not. She said that she—’
‘Yes?’ Faulkes prompted, concerned at the broken sentence and the removed tone in his friend’s voice.
‘It does not matter. It is just something strange that she said.’ There was a pause again. ‘I was not really acquainted with her in London.’ Suddenly Onslow sat up and turned to Faulkes. ‘You were, Justin. What was she like in town?’
‘Like? Why, as she is now. Charming, very pleasant to talk to.’ Faulkes fell into a reverie himself. ‘She was a little more reserved, I think. Perhaps shy. I have seen her more playful on this visit. But I think I made her conscious—’ he met Onslow’s eye. ‘You may have guessed that I had intentions towards Miss Fortune.’
Onslow’s brows rose. ‘I had thought there was some history. But you are saying that she declined an offer? I’m sorry, old friend.’
Faulkes shrugged. ‘She felt that we would not suit. But if it was known that she had refused me, her family would have been displeased with her, so we did not mention it again.’
‘I’m sorry if this party has given you pain. I cannot now think why either of us are here.’
‘The Countess of Alderly caught us off guard. And since George Fortune was present, I for one could not think of a reason to avoid the request.’
‘I, however, am not usually so polite. I forget why I agreed.’ Onslow did actually remember, in fact. He had heard that Miss White had returned from abroad, and Fortune Castle had seemed far enough away to delay their inevitable meeting. Strange that that had seemed so important.
‘I confess I arrived with a little hope,’ continued Faulkes, ‘for I believed she was still unattached. But she is a most clear-hearted young lady. I could see almost at once that she is glad to be my friend, and no more.’ Onslow’s hand was on his shoulder and then dropped. ‘It has been so very pleasant to get to know her better,’ Faulkes added. He smiled. ‘She does not disappoint.’
‘No,’ Onslow said. He lifted his voice a little. ‘That is why I am sorry that some intrusive words to her have been misunderstood. I believe she thought I criticised her. I have discovered that Miss Fortune has a temper.’
‘It will calm down, I’m sure. We’ll all be on easy terms again.’
Onslow thought of how she had used the term ‘easy’ and blanched. He thought too of Justin’s description of her as clear-hearted. It was a strange one, but he feared to ask him more. He supposed he meant she knew her own heart, yet today her anger and hurt and humiliation had been jumping like a cat on hot coals. He should not have spoken. He had not meant to, but the atmosphere when he came to see her to deliver the note had been so full that he wanted to clear the air. It had seemed very important, when he had begun to speak to her, that they understood each other, that there should be nothing between their ease with each other. But his questions had been unpardonably prying and meddlesome. He had no right, and he knew it in his head. But somehow, he’d thought them beyond that.
Chapter 15
It was a day of unrelieved horror for Georgette. How to escape Colonel Bellamy’s company was paramount. In the afternoon the Bailey brothers insisted that she join the archery, hoping to reprise the hil
arity of her failure the day before. But without Faulkes and Onslow, who stood at the side of the course as spectators today, rather than instructors, her failure was simply sad, not funny. The presence of Colonel Bellamy mouthing words of encouragement in their place did not at all help. She could not even look at him. At one point he approached her from behind saying, ‘The arm is still not straight. Let me help you.’
If he touched her, as Onslow had on another occasion, she thought she might scream. Georgette dropped the bow. ‘Excuse me, gentlemen,’ she said with a weak laugh, turning to them. ‘It is hot today, I find. I feel a little unwell.’
Bellamy picked up her bow and now set it aside, and looking concerned, came towards her again as though he might put a hand on her. She shrank back. ‘Miss Fortune—’ he said urgently. She saw many eyes upon her. He was too forward, too serious. She could not help the glance of desperation she threw to her erstwhile friends, Onslow and Faulkes, at the side of the course. Sir Justin elbowed his way forward in a second.
‘Miss Fortune,’ he said, offering his arm, ‘you are unwell. Let me escort you to the Castle.’
Portia, hearing this, dropped her own bow and said, in her impulsive way, ‘Oh, Georgie. I’ll come too.’
Sir Justin’s arm was strong. As they passed Onslow, she felt she might just lose consciousness, for she could not look in his direction. She grasped Faulkes’ arm more strongly, and he made a noise in his throat. In the castle, he gave orders to a maid. ‘Miss Fortune is unwell, please cause her bed to be warmed.’
The elder ladies were talking or working with their threads in the Great Hall, and Sir Justin had the forethought to divert their small party to the sitting room. Portia dropped to her knees before the sofa and said, ‘Georgie!’
Georgette had closed her eyes, more to fend off her embarrassment and indecision, but she frowned a little at this, opening her eyes. ‘I am just a little faint, silly. Don’t worry Portia.’
‘But you never faint.’
Sir Justin made a resolve. ‘Miss Portia, could you see to your sister’s room and I’ll send her up with a maid directly.’
‘If you can find one,’ said Portia, ‘they’ll be serving refreshments on the course.’
‘I’ll find one,’ he answered comfortably.
The girl left them, and Georgette closed her eyes once more.
‘Miss Fortune, at the risk of having you angry at me as you were at Onslow today, I’m going to hazard a guess about the source of your discomfort …’
Georgette opened her eyes. ‘I shouldn’t ask it of you. But stand between us, please.’
Faulkes blinked, but held her eyes. ‘I understand.’
Onslow came in. ‘Are you well?’ he said coldly.
‘Yes,’ Georgette said, in a similar tone.
Portia trooped in. ‘The room is ready, but there are no maids.’
‘No matter,’ said Onslow in the same cold voice. He bent and grasped Georgette by the knees and shoulders. It happened so swiftly that Georgette could make no protest. He walked up the stairs at the same pace, calling to Portia. ‘Direct me to the chamber.’
It was less than a minute before Georgette was out of his arms and deposited in her bed. She tried to say something, but he was already gone.
Georgette had a little more control over dinner. She placed Bellamy as far from herself as possible, and afterwards she resolved to go to her room once more. Her father met her in the vestibule as she carried out her plan.
‘Where are you off to?’
‘I’m a little tired, Papa, and I am going to my room.’
‘What do you mean by it? We have guests. The family must be present.’
As her father had been frequently absent since the guests arrived, Georgette might have made a rebuttal, but she stayed silent. She moved to sit with the ladies, and the gentlemen joined them after their brandy in quick order, so as to be close to the cavernous fire of the Great Hall. Georgette flitted around the room through the various small groups and made sociable remarks, more to avoid being a sitting target than anything else. Lady Sarah delayed her a little by talking of her walk today, and in an under voice laughing at her brother’s penchant for the summerhouse. Georgette did not look in the colonel’s direction, but as he talked with the Alderlys and Lord Paxton, she could frequently feel his eyes upon her. She wondered briefly if Onslow had ever been made uncomfortable by the secret glances she had attached to him while in London society, but she doubted it. However, the difference was that Bellamy had spoken his intentions, and she felt burdened by them, and aware of his eyes upon her. Moving around, Georgette also recognised that all of these people, even the pleasant old friends the Baileys, allowed her to pass by with only a few words, and nothing stuck, not even the society of her sisters. Only Onslow and Faulkes had found her worth talking to for more than a few moments at a time, she realised, and she thought of their ease together with a sort of yearning.
Bellamy seemed at any moment ready to pay her that intense attention, and she had nothing to say to him. Her father would eventually notice, and the most hideous campaign of match-making would occur. Goodness knows what he might say — there seemed no reserve in him at all — and in her present humour Georgette’s sense of the ridiculous would not be enough to stem the absolute humiliation. The thought of it made her suffocate. She finished her third circuit of the room, avoiding Bellamy’s set, and was relieved when Sir Justin touched her arm lightly. ‘Pray sit, Miss Fortune.’ His other hand, she discovered as she looked at the baronet, was lightly grasping Onslow’s jacket, as though he was a child who was being kept in place. She sat, with some relief, and the two friends flanked her, Faulkes sitting on a seat on her left, Onslow standing at her right. But unlike other evenings, the conversation did not flow. Sir Justin made some attempts. She answered in syllables. She saw the colonel approach, and watched his tall, handsome figure as though he had been a demon, and clutched at her hands.
‘Look at me.’ Onslow had whispered it, and she did so, in a daze. The blue eyes held hers. ‘Smile,’ he said, his voice below even what Faulkes could overhear, ‘I am being very amusing.’
She did so, and hardly believed that anyone could see the smile and not know it as false. Bellamy was closer, and her hands trembled in her lap. ‘Look at Justin now,’ Onslow said, still low. ‘You are staring.’ She broke the contact with his eyes, feeling that it was the only rope to save her from drowning. Mechanically, she did as she was bid and just as Bellamy appeared in front of her, Onslow said in a louder voice, ‘Is that not so, Justin?’
Faulkes had been struggling to hear what they had been saying, and was now only aware of Georgette’s panic. He smiled down into those desperate eyes comfortingly and said with superior social aplomb, ‘Yes, indeed! And at a public ball, too!’
‘I hope I am not interrupting,’ said the colonel, at his ease.
‘Faulkes has been filling us in on the latest on dits. You would not think it, but he is a fund of gossip,’ Onslow answered, at his friendliest. One leg was bent over the other as he stood casually, one hand hidden behind Georgette’s shoulder, resting on her chair back for support. The nail of his thumb brushed a space between her shoulder blades, and she knew he meant it as a spur.
‘Oh yes. Some people can be in town and know nothing. Sir Justin can be at home and still know everything.’ She said it lightly, smiling at the baronet, who did so in return.
‘I protest!’ he replied. ‘If my charm of manner gives me many sources of knowledge, it is still unfair to call me a gossip.’
‘We shall ask Faulkes to recount you the tale of the curate at the ball another time, colonel. How about you? Have you tales to tell?’
‘Oh many, I assure you,’ the colonel said lightly, ‘but you may not be acquainted by the society of Calcutta, so I will spare you.’
He was friendly and easy, and Georgette, though still afraid, could discern the charming young man she had met at Almacks. Now, with her allies safe in place, she fo
und that she could smile too. ‘Do you find London changed a great deal on this visit, colonel?’
‘I hardly know. I was but two days in town before I came to Fortune.’ He smiled into Georgette’s eyes, and she returned it automatically while she inwardly froze. The effect of this statement had silenced them all.
Faulkes recovered first. ‘You are a great friend of the Alderlys I believe?’
‘Yes,’ Bellamy replied, still gazing at Georgette.
‘Miss Fortune, does your father have a plan for tomorrow?’ Onslow asked her. The nail grazed her back again.
She turned to him, and with this little encouragement could smile as she said, ‘My father is averse to planning, as you might have guessed, my lord.’
The marquis laughed back at her, approval of her acting in his eyes, and she was cheered despite her tension. ‘Indeed!’ he said.
‘There is some talk of music before dinner. I mean to inveigle as many of our guests as possible to perform. Lady Bailey is a very fine soprano, and Miss White plays so well.’
‘And you, Miss Fortune?’ said Bellamy playfully. ‘How might you perform?’
‘Sadly, I have no musical talent whatsoever,’ she said frankly.
‘No?’ Bellamy said warmly. ‘I fear you must be too modest.’
‘Indeed not.’
‘I do not remember you playing in London,’ remarked Sir Justin.
‘That is because I did not. My musical talents are equal to my skill with a bow.’
‘Save us from that, then!’ remarked Onslow and Bellamy gave him a somewhat sharp look for this insolence.
But Georgette merely laughed. ‘Thankfully,’ she added, with a pert look at him, ‘my sisters perform with ease.’
Julia White joined them, and Sir Justin surrendered his seat. ‘My dear Georgette, I am come to see if you are quite recovered. I did not see you quit the field today. I was upset when Lady Bailey told me so at dinner.’
Georgette and the Unrequited Love: Sisters of Castle Fortune Book 1 Page 14