by Jennifer Joy
For instance, she briefly saw Miss Morton don her wrap and glance worriedly over her shoulder as if she feared being seen. Most likely, she was only going out to the garden. Would her dance tutor meet her there? Miss Morton's dedication to her private lessons was remarkable, and Georgiana had noticed how the lady blushed whenever they were mentioned. The tutor seemed like a kind man, an opinion which was strengthened when Georgiana learned how he had given up a prestigious position on the continent in order to care for his elderly mother in town.
Georgiana's attention returned to the pack of scoundrels lurking around the table when they started speaking of fortunes. Her body tensed when she learned her name was inscribed in the betting book at White's. The vile book that had ruined many a lady's good reputation by setting the wolves after her.
A voice on the other side of the curtain said, "They are leaving. It is nearly safe to come out."
Georgiana started, nearly knocking the glass of punch that appeared at her elbow with her clenched fist. That was Tanner's influence. He had insisted she learn how to defend herself.
Should she accept the punch? Who was the man who offered it?
She looked at his fingers surrounding the glass. Tanned hands suggested he was not a dandy afraid of ruining his complexion out of doors. His fingernails were clean and cut. Was that a callous?
The edge of his coat showed a bit of wear, but his shirt sleeve peeking from underneath was impeccably white.
The man moved the glass closer to her. "I took the liberty of securing some refreshment for you. It is difficult work avoiding the unwanted advances of a persistent pack of sporting gentlemen. Please do not be alarmed on my account. I only mean to offer you what little comfort I can provide before continuing on my way."
His pleasant voice held no threat. She heard the smile in his tone.
Georgiana took the glass. "I thank you, sir. I am rather parched." Curiosity got the better of her, and she reached for the curtain with her free hand.
The kind stranger said, "Not quite yet, Miss Darcy."
He knew her name. Who was this man?
She dropped the curtain as he suggested, but her curiosity would not be denied. "It is unfair you know my identity when I cannot see you. I should like to thank you properly for coming to my aid."
A smiling face appeared in the gap of the curtain. "As you wish. I always do my best to serve justice."
Mr. Michael Nelson.
How could Georgiana forget those hazel eyes, full of insight and warmth? His sandy brown hair was lighter than it had been last time she had seen him so many years ago. How long now? Four years? Five years? Where had he been all this time?
His wide shoulders filled out his coat admirably, and his body was as long and lanky as it had been the last time they had met. She wondered if he still skipped meals when he lost himself in his work.
Georgiana remembered him well, and it pleased her to be remembered by him.
Mr. Nelson looked about, saying in a conspiratorial tone, "Pray forgive my directness, but where is your companion? You cannot be without a chaperone in this crush. Not when there are sporting gentlemen out to win a wager."
True to her earlier threat, Lydia had tampered with Mrs. Wiggins' punch. The poor woman was no match for the contents of the flask.
Georgiana pointed in the direction where Mrs. Wiggins sat with her chin pressed down against her chest. "Do you see the cluster of chairs past the doors leading out to the gardens?" she asked.
Mr. Nelson nodded. "Where the matrons gather to gossip and spy on the young couples going out to the balcony?"
She smiled at his observation. "Mrs. Wiggins is the one sitting in the corner."
His eyebrows arched when he saw her, but he calmed his shock masterfully, saying, "How sensible to choose the spot farthest from the draught of the open doors. It would be dreadful for her efforts on your behalf to be rewarded with a chill."
"Indeed," Georgiana observed.
Mrs. Wiggins' chin lifted and her mouth fell open. From the disapproving glances the matrons nearby cast in her direction, she must have snored.
He tsked. "The gossip must be very disappointing tonight."
Georgiana chuckled. For a moment, she wondered why their paths had not crossed before … and then she remembered how relieved her brothers had been when they had learned she and Mr. Nelson were not exchanging letters in secret. In fact, they would not have met at all if not for the misunderstanding. They had all laughed at the mistake — and Georgiana did not think ill of William or Elizabeth to mistake her correspondence with Miss Michaela Nelson, a friend from finishing school, with Mr. Michael Nelson.
"It is safe to step out from behind the curtain now," Mr. Nelson said.
She was grateful to leave the confines of the dusty drapery. "Thank you, Mr. Nelson. You have been an excellent guard."
He bowed elegantly. "I am pleased you are satisfied. Might I inquire after your family?"
"They are well and happy. My brother and Mrs. Darcy are here along with her sister, Miss Lydia Bennet. I am certain they will be pleased to see you." Georgiana was certainly pleased to see him.
"And I them. Mr. Darcy's concern for the welfare of others impressed me with his honorableness."
She glanced around. "Are you accompanied by family this evening?"
A pained expression crossed Mr. Nelson's face, but he covered it with a smile so quickly, Georgiana was tempted to think she had imagined it.
"My brother is not in town," he said.
Mr. Nelson only had a brother? Just like her. Except she had Tanner, Arabella, Elizabeth, Lydia… There were many in Georgiana's life who were as dear to her as William. Was Mr. Nelson alone? "I am sorry—" she began.
"Pray do not trouble yourself, Miss Darcy," he interrupted, adding, "I am poor in relatives, but I am rich in friends."
The comment on the tip of Georgiana's tongue dried up when Mr. Nelson tensed beside her. His jaw twitched much like her brothers' did when they were displeased.
Following the direction of his gaze, Georgiana saw the three gentlemen she had been avoiding.
"You are much sought after this evening, Miss Darcy. It seems you have two options: resume your position behind the curtain while I provide a distraction or dance with me." He extended his arm to her, making clear his preference without imposing on her ability to choose.
She rested her hand on his arm and stepped boldly away from the curtain. "Although I am intrigued to see what sort of distraction you could manage on such short notice, I should very much like to dance."
Mr. Nelson's smile warmed Georgiana from the inside out, spreading flutters through her stomach.
A lively quadrille played, and they joined a square lacking a second couple.
Georgiana enjoyed the dance immensely. Mr. Nelson's eyes were as merry as the tune played by the orchestra. She nearly burst into laughter when she followed his line of vision to where the three sporting gentlemen stood. From the looks of consternation they wore, Georgiana supposed they had lost a bet … or feared they had more competition in their pursuit. Her cheeks burned at the thought. She had only just met Mr. Nelson after an absence of many years. And even then, their acquaintance had been brief.
Her hands tingled through her gloves when they met with his. She would have liked to have spoken with him longer or danced a set more suitable for conversation. But it felt good to laugh and skip about.
Too soon, the dance came to an end.
Mr. Nelson motioned toward the three gentlemen. "They are determined. Shall I accompany you to your brother, or would you prefer to take a turn in the garden? Or," he added with a mischievous gleam in his eye, "I can return you to the curtain."
Georgiana liked how he offered her choices. There was nothing manipulative or conniving in his manners.
It was an easy decision to make. Turning toward the balcony, she said, "It was too stuffy behind the curtain, and I do not wish to worry my brother when he ought to enjoy the evening with his
wife before I return to them. A turn in the garden sounds like just the thing."
If Lydia could see Georgiana now, she would have been proud. She would be cautious not to converse too long or stand too close, feeding the gossips' voracious appetite for impropriety at her expense. But she enjoyed Mr. Nelson's company, and she would not deny herself the pleasure of a few more minutes in conversation just to avoid their suspicious looks.
Chapter 4
Miss Darcy was enchanting. She was a gentle spring breeze — uplifting, refreshing, and inspiring — in the midst of the heavy crush of people. The years had added to her wit. And though her hiding behind a curtain would suggest otherwise, she had grown in confidence since he had last seen her.
Michael had taken care to give her several other options, but he was elated she had chosen him, and he was determined to honor her trust.
He hoped the candlelight did not make plain the frayed edges of his coat sleeves. He really must make time to go to the tailor. If she had already noticed, which Michael was certain she must have, her condescension in continuing in his company was all the more admirable. She did not fuss over superficial appearances.
Michael walked on air to the corner where Mrs. Wiggins slumbered. He even bowed his head to the gossiping mothers they passed on their way to fetch the chaperone.
Mrs. Wiggins snorted when Miss Darcy woke her, smacking her lips together and looking about for clues to her whereabouts. Then, as if the elderly woman had not spent the past quarter of an hour or more in oblivious repose, she fell in behind Miss Darcy, sweeping past the matrons whispering behind their fans with her nose in the air. She was clearly above their gossip.
Paper lanterns lit up the pathways, leaving dark corners occupied by couples seeking privacy.
Glancing over his shoulder, Michael saw the busybodies' fans fluttering, their glowing eyes narrowing at the new target of their sneers and idle talk — Miss Darcy.
Not if Michael could help it. Perhaps the garden was not the best idea after all, but the view from the balustrade would suffice along with the companionship of an awake Mrs. Wiggins. The only trouble Michael foresaw was in keeping the conversation short. He sensed it would be easy to lose track of time in Miss Darcy's presence.
She stood an arm's length away from him, resting her hands against the top of the balustrade and leaning forward. "This is a lovely spot from which to appreciate the gardens. I am pleased you suggested it."
Michael applauded her caution. Miss Darcy would not be one to seek the shadows, and he thought more highly of her for it. It explained her choice of a companion. Were Miss Darcy not completely trustworthy, Mr. Darcy would never entrust her reputation with a woman capable of sleeping through a ball.
He wished he could reassure Miss Darcy, to promise he would never put her in the position of having to choose between her reputation and his friendship, if Michael could be so blessed to count her a friend. But such reassurances must be proved, not merely professed.
Turning to him, Miss Darcy said, "The last time we conversed at length with my brother, you had returned a young lady and her child to her family."
Michael remembered the case well. A lady, much too young, had eloped with a gentleman officer who had left her once her father had disowned her in a fit of anger. The ne'er-do-well had abandoned her though he knew her to be with his child. Miss Pembroke had thought he loved her when what he had loved was the prospect of her fortune. She had been heartbroken, ill-prepared for her change in circumstances and too proud to beg her family to forgive her. Michael was surprised Miss Darcy remembered.
Then again, it was the kind of story to appeal to the sympathies of most young women. He doubted she remembered the lady's name or any other detail. "Unfortunately, these cases are more common than you might believe. Of which lady do you speak?" he asked, testing her out.
"Oh, I believe they are common enough," she said firmly.
Michael heard the hurt in her tone, and he wondered if she or someone close to her had nearly fallen victim to a manipulative scoundrel. A pox on the villain who preyed on a gentle lady!
She added, "My relief was immense when you were able to find Miss Pembroke. Her family was anxious to seek her forgiveness and welcome both her and their grandchild home."
Michael's jaw dropped. Miss Darcy remembered. She had genuinely cared beyond her own involvement and Michael's initial misunderstanding that she was Miss Pembroke.
He said, "Then you can understand the immensity of my relief when Mr. Darcy did not crush me when he thought I had been courting you in secret. And again when I went so far as to assume you were the ruined lady for whom I had been searching. He would have been justified, and I have admired his forbearance since." He rubbed his jaw.
Miss Darcy chuckled. "He takes my protection seriously, as does my other brother."
"As they should." Michael had read about Mr. Tanner in the papers. It had been a few years ago, but he remembered cheering for the Darcys and Mr. Tanner when society briefly turned against them. Now that was a united family. A gentleman would have to be the worst sort of fool to cross with them over their little sister.
"Have you come to the aid of many other damsels in distress? I imagine fulfilling your duties as a barrister would keep you much occupied in court. However, I would think helping people in more personal matters must be deeply satisfying." Miss Darcy's blue eyes bored into his, pleading for more.
What a singular young lady!
Michael's heart skipped in his chest. "I feel I should warn you for the discussion sure to ensue. There are few subjects on which I am capable of speaking with more passion than that of upholding justice and defending the defenseless."
"It sounds delightful. I can imagine no happier life than giving of yourself to help others. Of course, there are those whose pride prevents them from accepting any help at all, but the few who do benefit would make it worth it, I should think."
She looked down, endearingly self-conscious. She need not feel insecure in expressing her views before him. Michael felt as he often did at the end of a cross-examination that revealed a key piece of evidence in his client's favor. He had not known such elation could be found at a society ball.
The stars smiled upon him tonight … until a shadow fell across him, and Michael saw Lord Scargrave approaching with a hefty gentleman at his side. His eyebrows were drawn together in a deep V, and his pace urged Lord Scargrave forward.
Miss Darcy saw them, too. "Lord Scargrave and Mr. Morton look deeply troubled. I should return to my brother with Mrs. Wiggins."
Michael tried to look past the two gentlemen blocking his view of the ballroom. Their concern could wait until he returned Miss Darcy to her brother's side.
Since the gentlemen were not eager to speak of the delicate matter which had prompted them to seek Michael's counsel before any witnesses, it was a simple matter to suggest they return inside whereupon Michael saw Miss Darcy to her family. He would have preferred to renew his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy and his lovely wife, but Lord Scargrave was quick to beg Mr. Darcy's understanding and whisk Michael away into a quiet room where they could speak in confidence.
After he had introduced his rotund friend, Lord Scargrave said, "I told Mr. Morton how you had assisted me last year when my niece was so nearly tricked into marrying that man who turned out to be a charlatan, and Mr. Morton insisted on speaking to you at once."
Mr. Morton dabbed his ruddy face with a handkerchief. "I apologize for approaching you directly instead of through a solicitor, Mr. Nelson, as befits a gentleman. I am in a state and mean no offense." He wrung the linen between his thick hands.
His distress touched Michael, and his resentment at being pulled away from Miss Darcy disappeared. "I am not easily offended, Mr. Morton. Pray tell me how I might be of assistance."
"My daughter has been kidnapped."
Georgiana paced in the hall, watching the door the gentlemen had disappeared into ten minutes before.
She had seen Mis
s Morton. She had noticed her suspicious behavior, and she had not thought to say anything. What if she was in danger? What if an impulsive decision divided her from her family? Not knowing what had happened brought out the worst of Georgiana's fears, and her guilt increased with each passing second. She ought to have said something.
Elizabeth paced with her, having assigned Mrs. Wiggins to the impossible task of keeping watch over Lydia.
"You cannot blame yourself, Georgiana. How were you to know she meant to go beyond the gardens?" Elizabeth said.
"I could have prevented it. I should have spoken up, but I did not think my observations important." She had also forgotten Miss Morton when Mr. Nelson had appeared. It would have been easy to tell him — a gentleman known for restoring unity to families, whose discretion had earned the trust of the highest circles.
She heard William's words echo through her memory as clearly as the day he had uttered them at Ramsgate. "Oh, Georgie, had you only spoken up sooner." The anguish in his tone had pierced her heart. The disappointment in his eyes had been unmistakable, though she knew he tried to conceal it to spare her.
Mr. Nelson was bound to be disappointed in her too.
"You had no way of knowing they were," Elizabeth insisted, placing her hand on Georgiana's arm.
The door opened, and she rushed toward it, intent on righting her mistake. "Pray, forgive me, gentlemen," she said, addressing the men. "Is Miss Morton well?"
Mr. Morton's face darkened. Looking about to ensure they would not be overheard, he asked, "Is there talk already?"
"If there is, I have not yet heard it. I only ask because I saw Miss Morton just before the quadrille played. She wore a wrap and looked about as if she wished to avoid being seen. At the time, I thought she meant to meet her dance tutor in the gardens." Georgiana breathed in and exhaled in a rush.
"If you are suggesting my daughter ran off with a commoner, allow me to assure you that is not the case. She has been kidnapped," Mr. Morton said, the handkerchief in his hand shaking.