Secrets of a Fair Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Abigail Agar

  Georgiana sensed that he wanted to continue their conversation, that he was interested in still speaking with one another. But she was overwhelmed by her embarrassment one moment and her righteous anger toward Inspector Brock in the next.

  Being around a constable from his precinct was terribly uncomfortable.

  “Yes, I suppose so. Thank you, Constable Frampton,” she said, turning away from him quickly, before he could say anything further.

  Both proud and ashamed of her behaviour, Georgiana decided she would rest for the remainder of the evening.

  She spied a group of young women and decided to go and join them, to sit and gossip rather than dance and court.

  “Miss Reid. You have come to grace us with your presence?” asked Miss Finchley, a young woman with an upturned nose and a father who owned half the commonwealth.

  “If you do not mind the company,” she said.

  Miss Finchley and the other girls looked at one another with the sort of expression that told her they did mind. Nevertheless, they were not unkind to her and allowed Georgiana to spend the rest of the time with them. No one said one word about their obvious jealousy for the attention she had garnered from all the men.

  Instead, they were nice enough, involving her in their various discussions and interactions. For a moment, she thought that she might even learn to be friends with a few of the women, given the proper opportunity one day.

  And so long as her brother managed to avoid giving them too much attention and then hurting their hearts.

  It was a small solace to be with them. It did not do much, but at least it gave her a moment to pause from her behaviour, to think about what she had done.

  And, if she was lucky, nothing would be mentioned to Inspector Brock.

  Chapter 22

  “Inspector Brock, have you spoken with Miss Reid of late?” Constable Frampton asked.

  Hamish looked at him and tried not to tighten his jaw in response. Of course he had not spoken with Miss Reid of late. She was still angry at him. She had not come to see him in the last two days.

  “No, I have not,” he said.

  “All right. I was curious. Yesterday I was not here, but the evening before, I saw her and I must confess that I was surprised by her,” he said with a laugh.

  Intrigued, Hamish put down the pen in his hand.

  “What do you mean? Where did you see her? What was she doing?” he asked.

  “We were at my cousin’s ball. I had noticed that she was rather social in the past, but I had not imagined her to be such a flirt,” Constable Frampton said.

  A ball? Hamish had not been aware that there was another ball that evening. Then again, there were always balls taking place.

  “What do you mean? What happened?” Hamish asked.

  “Well, she was quite frivolous, I must say. Dancing from one man to the next. I only tell you because I was so surprised. I hadn’t thought she would be that sort,” Constable Frampton said.

  “That sort? What sort?” Hamish asked, not liking the things his constable was saying.

  “Just going from one gentleman to the next. She was laughing and dancing as if there was not a care in the world. Hardly the distraught young woman we have seen here. She was not thinking about her friend last evening, I can assure you,” Constable Frampton said.

  “How do you know that?” Hamish asked.

  “No young woman who was truly concerned about anything would behave thusly,” he said.

  “Did she show any impropriety?” Hamish asked.

  “No, she crossed no lines. But it was clear that the men at the ball would have approved if she had. She has quite a few admirers. She danced most of the dances for the first half of the evening. More than that. It was not until later that she settled. And my cousin mentioned that the Baron of Ayre was not present, but he is quite fond of her,” Constable Frampton said.

  This was deeply depressing to hear. Hamish had not known that she would still behave that way. Particularly after she had acknowledged her former frivolity.

  But Miss Reid was entirely herself at all times. She was not going to pretend to be anything other than who she was.

  It was painful to think of her dancing with all of those different men, do you think of her laughing and smiling, entertaining them.

  He knew that she was a brash young woman, but he had not seen her behave like that. At the previous ball, she had not done any of the things that Constable Frampton was describing. She had never acted out in that way.

  In fact, she had been the portrait of prudence.

  Indeed, he was grieved to hear of her entertaining so many men. More than grieved. He was jealous.

  “Well, I must confess that I am surprised. I know that she is a vivacious young woman, but I had not thought she would behave in that way either,” he said, trying to sound as though he didn’t care at all.

  “Anyway, it was an interesting show to watch,” Constable Frampton said, laughing again and shaking his head.

  “Why do you keep saying it like that?” Hamish asked, unable to refrain from being annoyed.

  Constable Frampton was quiet for a moment, apparently understanding that Hamish disliked how he said it.

  “F-forgive me, Inspector Brock. I only meant that she was quite unabashed in her expressions of enjoying herself. She really did seem to be having a nice time, but it was not done so in a quiet, demure way,” he said.

  “I would not say that she is a particularly demure woman,” Hamish grumbled.

  “No, she is not. And I do wonder if the Baron of Ayre will be upset when he hears about how she behaved. If she is to be courted by him, as my cousin believes will happen, he is not going to be happy with her,” Constable Frampton said.

  “They are courting already or will soon?” he asked.

  “They are not currently, but it is in discussion, according to my cousin. There are rumours that he intends to court her and make an offer of marriage,” he said.

  “I see,” Hamish said. “Well, that has nothing at all to do with our case. I suppose London gossip is just that.”

  His heart was aching and he began to wonder what he could do about it.

  What a foolish thing it had been for him to consider that it would ever be possible for her to care for him. After all, they were entirely different from one another. He was responsible, yes, but he was also poor. His position was not one that would ever make a fortune.

  And, although her father was about to lose everything, she had lived a very privileged life. She had been given everything that she would ever need.

  But beyond all of this, how did Constable Frampton know anything? And how is it fair that he had seen her when Hamish had not been able to?

  It bothered him to know that others were able to enjoy her company for a night when he could not.

  Oh, that surge of selfishness. It was unfair, but he couldn’t ignore it.

  “Well, I shall leave you to it, Inspector,” Constable Frampton said.

  “Yes, I suppose that is best. I do not need to be relayed information about the men and women of our society unless it is directly related to a case we are working on,” he said.

  “Understood, Inspector,” Constable Frampton said.

  Hamish tried to act as though it meant nothing to him, as if he was unbothered. He worried, however, that Constable Frampton could see through him.

  The last thing he wanted was for one of the men who worked for him to see that he was so weak, but he could be swayed by a woman like this.

  He didn’t want Constable Frampton to lose respect for him because of it.

  What would possess him to think that she would care for him? How could he believe that she would have any interest in him whatsoever?

  Hamish scolded himself, again and again.

  He needed to get back to work. He needed to focus on something else.

  “Constable Whithers,” he called.

  The young man came into his office at the ready.

&
nbsp; “Constable Whithers, please dress yourself in your street clothes. I need you to take a message to Miss Smithfield at once,” he said.

  “Yes, Inspector. I shall be just a moment,” Constable Whithers said.

  While he was gone, Hamish wrote a note for Miss Smithfield, hoping that she might be able to shed further light on matters.

  To Miss Smithfield,

  Please come to the precinct as soon as you are able to. I should like to discuss your case further and I do have a few more questions for you. The constable who brought you this message will tell me when you would like to come.

  Thank you,

  Inspector Brock

  With that, he waited until Constable Whithers arrived back in his office.

  “Here. Please take this to Miss Smithfield and await her reply,” he said.

  “Yes, Inspector. If she is not home?” he asked.

  “Wait. See if her mother will allow you to wait inside so that no one may spy you there,” Hamish said.

  “Yes, Inspector,” he said, nodding once and departing.

  Once more, he acknowledged to himself that he was spending more time on this case that he wanted to. After all, there was still no reason for constantly searching for answers behind all of this. Still, nothing criminal had taken place to his knowledge.

  The missing person’s case had been solved. Anything more was just his own foolishness.

  Why was he still so devoted to learning the truth of what happened? Why did he care who was behind any of this?

  So long as Miss Smithfield was safe, what did any of it matter?

  In fact, was it not his involvement that I had her continuing to be under threat? Perhaps, if he simply let this go, she would be left alone. She would be safe.

  But Hamish knew the answer. Not only was he curious, not only did he feel that Miss Smithfield needed more security than that, but he wanted to appease Miss Reid.

  She had begged him to take the case, but he now deny it? And now that she had hurt him, probably not to her knowledge, what would it look like for him to suddenly drop the case?

  He wanted to prove to her that he was capable of finding the truth. Even if that was not something that should have been a priority, he could not deny it.

  He wanted her to see that he was strong and hard-working. He wanted her to see that he was successful.

  Even if that success would never mean a fortune, even if it would not change anything about him, he hoped that it would change her opinion of him.

  But he had ruined everything.

  Due to his questions, the questions that he had to ask, he ruined whatever chance he might have had at getting to know her better, of gaining her trust and, possibly, her affection.

  She was never going to spend time around him now. She was never going to believe that he trusted her. And now, for the first time, there was truly something that had come between them.

  After a few hours, Constable Whithers returned to him.

  “Miss Smithfield said to inform you that she will come tomorrow. Today she is helping her mother at the market, and that is where I found her. She said to give you these as a thank you, also so that it looked like I was simply a customer and not a constable,” he said, handing Hamish a set of handkerchiefs that Miss Smithfield and her mother must have made.

  “Ah…thank you,” Hamish said, not having any idea what he would do with them.

  “Is there anything else, Inspector?” Constable Whithers asked.

  “Nothing. That is all,” Hamish said.

  “All right, Inspector. But…” he trailed off.

  “What is it?” Hamish asked.

  “Do you really think there is something going on here? Constable Frampton has told all the men about how Miss Reid was behaving at the ball a couple of evenings ago. It sounds as though even she does not care about this anymore. Actually, it sounds to me like she is quite careless and caught up in her entertainment and the company of young men,” he said.

  Hamish was quiet, chewing on his lip, unblinking as he stared at Constable Whithers.

  He held his pose long enough that Constable Whithers began to shift with discomfort.

  “I suppose I ought to get back to my work,” he said, swallowing his nerves.

  “That is a wise decision, Constable. Perhaps you are better leaving gossip to the grandmothers of London and focusing instead on the case that we are currently handling. I would rather keep Miss Smithfield safe than cave to the idea that because Miss Reid enjoys herself at a ball, she is somehow not to be listened to,” he said, as patiently, yet sternly, as he was able.

  “Yes, Inspector. Thank you,” Constable Whithers said, before turning around and bumping into the door frame as he left the office.

  Hamish sighed, frustrated that he had let things go on this long and get this far.

  He had to let go of his feelings for Miss Reid if he was going to do his job well. He had to forget whatever it was that had captivated him so strongly.

  Chapter 23

  “Georgiana, quickly. Get yourself presentable. What are you doing in here? You look absolutely terrible. Why are you not more presentable? Why is your hair like that?” her mother asked, rushing into the library in a tizzy.

  Georgiana had been leaning back in a chair, reading a book, lazily.

  “Mother, what on earth?” she asked.

  “The Baron of Ayre. Your father just arrived home. He said that he saw the Baron in town and invited him for tea. He is going to be here in just a few moments. Please, get yourself together! Why are you still sitting there, so idly?” her mother asked.

  “What? The Baron of Ayre is coming over?” Georgiana asked.

  “Yes, and your father seems to think that he is going to speak with him about publicly courting you. This could be exactly what we had hoped for, Georgiana. Now, hurry up. He is not going to court you if he sees you looking like this,” her mother complained.

  “But…but why is he coming?” she asked.

  “Have you not heard a word I just said?” her mother barked.

  Georgiana did not want to see the Baron of Ayre. She did not want to spend time with him or entertain him.

  However, that was not an option. Her mother had made everything perfectly clear.

  No matter what had happened in her heart, no matter what feelings she had now developed, she could not escape days like this. She could not escape times in which she was forced to spend time with men who meant nothing to her.

  The Baron was just such a man. He was someone who meant nothing at all to her, only a way out of her own home. And, to Georgiana, that was no longer a reason to find a husband.

  Soon enough, he arrived and Georgiana was forced to wait for him in the parlour, her book in front of her as though she was unaware of his visit. When the door opened, she looked up, flashing a surprised expression as her mother had instructed her to do.