by Anna Macy
The immense double door entry was currently swamped with a variety of men, some dressed for an evening at the club, others uniformed and attempting to move the crowd away from the door.
“Wains!” The voice that bellowed out was only distantly familiar to Robert. A hand the size of a ham hock suddenly reached out and gripped Robert’s lapels, propelling him to the front of the crowd.
Robert tried to be offended, but he was actually relieved to be free of the jumbling crowd. At least for a moment. Standing directly in front of him stood all six foot four inches of Montgomery Bohart, and he looked livid. No amount of liquor on the planet could make Robert miss that.
“Bohart. Lovely to see you.” Robert said, his voice strangely sarcastic. The club owner gave him an odd look, appraising him as he stood there, slightly swaying.
“Are you alright, Wains?” The tall redheaded Bohart looked at him, doubtful.
Robert cleared his throat, jerking the sleeve of his jacket as he let his mind settle. “Yes, sorry about that.” Bohart’s head tilted just the smallest degree but stepped closer to Robert.
“Do you know this man? He’s been shouting down the entryway for at least an hour, and it’s starting to wear on my nerves.” Bohart shifted out of the way.
Edwin Conning stood there, his face red with the cold, tiny puffs of air visible as the man preparing to start yelling again.
“Robert Wains, I need to speak to you!” Edwin’s voice rang out. Bohart’s eyes closed with deadly menace, and for a moment, Robert worried that the line between cultured and catastrophic might be quite slim in Bohart’s mind.
He moved to Bohart’s side, placing a calming hand against the boulder of a shoulder. “Give me just a minute with him.”
Thanking God for handrails, Robert stepped onto the cobbled street, staring at Georgiana’s oldest sibling. Edwin’s face grew solemn as Robert approached.
“What is it, Conning?” Robert couldn’t muster his usual good manners.
“I think we should talk,” Edwin repeated, looking nervously up at the bevy of footman and Bohart waiting at the door. “Alone.”
Robert spread his hands wide, frustrated, and confused.
“It’s about Georgiana,” Edwin whispered.
“Georgiana? Is she alright?” Robert’s mind cleared a bit as the harsh bite of fear swept through him.
“She’s healthy enough if that’s what you are wondering. But still, I think there is something we have to talk about. Do you have a room here?”
Robert glanced at Bohart, who gave him a warning look. If the Conning’s were in as dire of shape as Georgiana had told him, they were not paying members of the Blue Fiver.
“Bohart, would you mind? I’ll owe you a favor.”
Hesitating for another moment, Bohart gestured up the stairs, inviting them in. Edwin followed close to Robert, his steps small and nervous. Rather than move them into the main rooms, Bohart led them straight back to the series of private rooms at the back of the building. Opening one, he jerked his head at Robert.
Robert entered, followed by Edwin, who gazed with open admiration at the fine furnishings and decor. There was a small table and set of chairs by the window. On the other wall, a generously sized decanter was full and ready for pouring.
For a moment, Robert almost answered that call. But this was about Georgiana, and he needed his mind clear.
Bohart gave Robert a meaningful glance and then shut the door, leaving the two men alone together.
Again, Robert spread his arms wide. “What’s going on with Georgiana?”
Edwin shifted, looking everywhere but at Robert as he moved into the room. “She’s heartsick, completely devastated.”
Robert chuckled darkly. “She wasn’t earlier when she accused me of being insane and sent me running out of your house like a mangy street cat.” He took a long breath, the liquor making him bold.
“I’m not lying, Robert. God, this is all my fault.” He collapsed into one of the chairs, dropping his head to his hands in a gesture so pitiful that Robert almost felt bad for the other man. Pride, steely and cold, kept him where he stood.
Heavy minutes ticked by; Robert waited, reclining against the papered walls. He was ready to get this over with, go home and forget this whole day ever happened. But still, Edwin didn’t raise his head.
“Father truly believed that your father owed him more when he left Wains Shipbuilding. He let his anger fester, let it drive him to make rash, irrational decisions. And even after I got home from school, I failed to take control. I was a coward then, afraid of what my father would say. Now I failed to help both Georgiana and my entire family.” Edwin’s voice was harsh, filled with self-resentment.
“I knew things were bad. But I never knew that my father would be desperate enough to pull something as horrible as this. On my honor as a man, I cannot let it happen. And I owe more than an apology to you and Georgiana.”
“Conning, I don’t understand.” Robert leaned against the wall, crossing his feet at the ankles and mulling over the man’s confession. He understood the guilt and fear of failure that drove most businessmen.
In fact, it plagued him every day. But why come here to tell Robert? The desperation and vulnerability in Edwin’s words were uncomfortable.
Edwin stood quickly, slender chest heaving as he stared at Robert. Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out a neatly tied stack of documents. The edges were bent and brown from travel and handling. Edwin dropped the pages on the table between them.
“I’m sorry, Robert.”
Intrigued, Robert moved forward. His fingers slid across the table, skimming the documents before turning them so he could read the script on the front. As soon as he did, his head snapped up to Edwin.
“Where did you get these? This is private!” Robert felt his temper, formerly lulled into compliance by the alcohol, rise again. His fair skin flushed with the resuscitated anger.
Edwin must’ve noticed, as he began to back away quickly. “The night after you asked for our permission to marry Georgiana, my father hatched a plan. He thought that Georgiana could be our inside person, gathering bits and pieces of your business to level the playing field between us somehow.”
Robert shook his head, disbelief and confusion clouding his mind.
“He asked her to prove her love for her family. To take something from you that could help the business. He said he would refuse your offer for her unless she did.” Edwin looked down at his scuffed toes. “Regretfully, I supported this insane claim by not stopping it then and there. It was a disservice to the work your family has put in for generations and a mockery of her love for you.”
Robert let his hand rest on the page, resisting the urge to slam his fist into the pages. “Well, now, what am I supposed to say? That it’s all okay now that you’ve come to your senses and returned these? Now we can go back to spurned business partners. Because I’m not sure, that’s possible.”
Edwin shook his head. “I didn’t do any of this for the business. This is for my sister and the pain I put her through. She believes she doesn’t deserve you, that she’s not good enough for you.”
“Maybe she’s not,” Robert growled.
Edwin shrugged, “That’s for you to decide. But please, she was ashamed and trapped. Don’t hold it against her. The blame should rest on my father and me.” He moved to the door.
“Edwin,” Robert called out to the other man. Edwin looked at him over a shoulder, his eyes sad but resolute. “Thank you for telling me.”
Edwin nodded brusquely, and with a twist of the knob, he disappeared back out of the Blue Fiver, leaving a quickly sobering Robert with only his thoughts and a stack of company secrets.
FOURTEEN
Robert still felt the effects of his evening spent deep in the brandy bottle but had woken up this morning determined and with a clear path in mind. Back at the Devonshire townhouse, he holed up in the library, surrounded by the ledgers in question.
After Edwin had
left last night, a thought had occurred to Robert; one that would forever change the trajectory of Wains Shipbuilding as well as Conning Shipwrights. In a carefully written letter to his father, Robert spelled out the perimeters for his next steps. It was all courtesy, of course. By the time this letter reached his father’s hands, the wheels would readily be in motion—his first official act as the company’s leader, and quite a large one at that.
But at the same time, it was the opportunity of his lifetime. Robert had spent too many of his days so afraid of failure that he’d never bothered to dream of something more. Those days were gone. Sealing the letter and placing it on the desk, he leaned back in his chair. There was no lingering doubts or regrets as he laid out his letter for post.
Robert smiled. It was the first of many wise decisions he would be making in the coming weeks. He was sure of it.
And while he had initially been angry with Georgiana over her deceit, it had faded quickly. Perhaps it was because of how much it made sense. Or because he knew that the roles had been reversed, he too would’ve gone to great lengths for his family.
His mother had been right; love was never easy. Robert was no longer taking the easy route. Not in love, not in life. He was prepared to live with the consequences.
Marian’s bright head passed by the door, hesitating as she noticed someone was within. He called out to her. “Marian, can you come here for a moment?”
Her petite frame slipped into the door, moving effortlessly across the room towards him. She gave him a scolding look for the way his jacket draped haphazardly over the chair behind him.
“I didn’t even know you were home,” her soft, refined voice filled the air. She noticed the pour of brandy that sat within reach. “And already drinking?”
“The hair of the dog. Yesterday may have been a bit rougher than I had expected.” Robert admitted sheepishly. Marian’s pretty face went dark, worried.
“I’ve heard bits and pieces about Georgiana and the proposal. I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you.”
Robert swatted away her apology. “Don’t stress on my account. I’ve already found the perfect way to win her over.” He wriggled his eyebrows at her.
“Oh?” Marian didn’t seem convinced, but her smile was genuine. “You’ll have to tell me all about it.”
Robert held up a finger. “All in due time.”
Marian rolled her eyes, and after checking no one from the hall could see, she flopped in the most unladylike way into the chair across from him. “Anything from Father?”
“Nothing. At least not addressed to me. Mother might receive things differently.” Robert admitted. “That letter was for him. I’m hoping it prompts him to find his way home.”
“Agreed. It’s been too long. Mother is badly missing him.” This trip was the longest his father had ever been on, and it was affecting the entire family, but no one more so than Catherine.
“Marian, there was something I wanted to talk to you about,” Robert observed his sister’s face.
“Yes?”
Do you remember Mr. Bohart? William’s friend from the Blue Fiver?” Robert’s usually bright eyes were severe.
“I remember him,” Marian said carefully, keeping her eyes on the mixture of ledgers and notes piled closest to her body. Wordlessly, she nodded, a faint blush blossoming across her sharp cheekbones.
“He spoke to me late last night,” Robert looked up at her, picking up the brandy and swirling the glass with practiced ease. “He needs help.”
“With the club? I’m fairly certain that is more in line with yours or Father’s proficiencies.” Marian pursed her lips, observing her brother’s nervous behavior.
“No, not with the club. This is a much more personal request.” Robert was looking more and more uncomfortable, but he could see that Marian was intrigued.
“Go on,” she urged.
“Bohart’s sister has disappeared, leaving his four-year-old niece alone. She’s too young for boarding school, and Bohart hasn’t been able to secure a governess who wants to be associated with him.”
Marian wrinkled her nose. “Because of his upbringing?”
Robert mimicked her, wrinkling his nose. “I guess so. More than likely, most are too nervous about being associated with the Blue Fiver club.”
“People are ridiculous.” Marian shook her head.
“Yes, they are, but that doesn’t change the situation. The girl can’t be left alone, especially over the holidays.” Robert suddenly dropped his gaze, staring at his lap.
“What does this have to do with me?” Marian prodded. Robert’s chest grew tight, almost afraid to go on. Not because his sister would be offended, but because she wouldn’t be. He felt very strongly that she might jump at the chance to have something of her own.
“He asked me if I knew of a companion who would be willing to come work for him temporarily. At least through the holidays.” Juliet raised her blonde brows.
“For the girl’s sake,” Robert finished in a rush.
“And you thought of me?” Marian almost choked on the words.
“Since Teddy came back, things have been awful for you, and I know that. But I also know that you’ve always expressed interest in having your own life, your own future. You could think of this as testing the waters in a safe environment?’
“You are calling the Blue Fiver a safe environment?” Marian snorted through her delicate nose.
“I’m calling anywhere near Montgomery Bohart a safe environment. He assured me that you would not be in the club during operation. There is an apartment specifically set aside for a governess upstairs.” Marian still looked unsure, but he noticed her neck was pink and flushed.
“If you aren't sure, don’t waste another moment considering it. Perhaps you have a friend who might be interested,” Robert offered.
“No, Robert, that’s not it. I was just mulling it over.” Marian said sourly, glaring at her sibling.
Robert shrugged, looking down at the desk and the letter sealed upon it. Unbidden, a smile pulled at his lips.
He stood, “Mare, I’ve got to post this before the end of the day and need to get back to work for a bit.”
She nodded her expression, one of deep thought. Together, they walked out of the library.
***
Weeks had passed. While Georgiana finally felt capable of leaving her room regularly and regaining some control over the townhouse, she was surprised to find that Edwin met her halfway in every regard. One morning, she arrived downstairs to discuss meals to find an additional kitchen servant and that the cook was staying on all day.
Her heart had jumped to her throat. Success was showing its face again in the Conning household.
The pages she had given her father and Edwin must be doing better than expected. That would be the only reason they could afford more staff, especially around the holidays. When Edwin had appeared for lunch, she had hidden from him, her eyes downcast as she choked down the vast array of new menu items.
Her mother often joined them for meals nowadays, her cheeks pink and rosy as she admired the table settings and chattered to Edwin about his daily plans. Even Teddy and Serena were in good spirits, the constant arguing on a temporary pause.
And her father? He glowed with pleasure. He often admitted he had no idea what was going on down by the river but was content to send Edwin to do his bidding. To her surprise, Edwin seemed relieved and left each morning with more enthusiasm than she’d seen in years.
For once, the entire family treated her respectfully. Perhaps they understood what Georgiana had sacrificed. That each time they enjoyed a new meal or an updated wardrobe, it was at the expense of the future she still longed for. No one spoke of it, but they all knew.
She felt their eyes on her in the quiet moments by the fire or when she stared too long out of the dining room windows—always waiting, always hoping that she might chance just a glance of Mr. Robert Wains.
More snow, heavy and wet, blanketed L
ondon with its innocent glow. Christmas came and went, but no Robert. Not that she blamed him. Georgiana had been clear when she’d sent him away. He was a good, honorable man; he would abide by her rules, even if she wished he wouldn’t.
One quiet afternoon, as Georgiana sat neatly embroidering a silken handkerchief, Edwin came strolling in. His heavy overcoat was on, and in one gloved hand, he held up her cloak.
“Join me at the Port today?”
Georgiana set aside her embroidery, casting a look at her mother, who hummed softly from her chair by the fire.
“You should go, dear. The fresh air will be good for you.” Her mother’s weak voice had grown stronger, more confident as she met her daughter’s eyes with her own. She quickly returned to her book, pushing her reading glasses up on the bridge of her nose.