by Fanny Finch
He was simply strolling down a lane when he paused.
There, at the end of the lane, looking at one of the houses, were Miss Reginald and Miss Weston.
They looked as though they were inspecting the house. But why would they be doing a thing like that?
He did not approach them and merely watched as they seemed to discuss for a moment, and then turned around the corner.
Once they were gone, he went up to the house to take a look at it himself. He might be mistaken. They could have simply been calling upon whoever lived inside and then having a small discussion on their way out.
Yet, this was in a neighborhood that was a bit below what the daughter of a rich gentleman and the sister of a duke might be found in.
Could there truly be anyone of their acquaintance who lived in this quarter?
When he got in front of the house, he got his answer.
There was a small ‘to be let’ sign in the window, along with a request to inquire within.
He could not think of any reason why Miss Weston would be looking for a place to let. Miss Reginald, on the other hand…
Bath was a fashionable place where those of the upper class who were a bit outside of the norm could escape to. The elderly, the spinsters, those with debilitating illness or other physical issues could settle down there.
Miss Weston was young enough that she did not quite need to worry about spinsterhood just yet.
But Miss Reginald, at the age of six and twenty…
She must be looking for a place to lodge.
He knew that Miss Reginald was a woman of pride. Her whole family was like that. She would never impose upon her brother by living with him.
But by taking a small, inexpensive place in Bath, she could retain her dignity and some measure of independence without having to burden her brother by being a constant presence in his home.
Not that he thought the current duke would mind. Edward Reginald, from what Robert remembered of him, was quite fond of his sister. He would never feel that it was an imposition to take care of her.
But Miss Reginald might not see it that way.
Robert felt a sharp ache in his chest. She was so certain that she was out of prospects that she was looking into an apartment. She had truly given up.
How could she?
How could a woman of her caliber have not had any offers? How could she have not found any other man to marry her?
Had her father turned down other men besides himself? Had he been a tyrant until the end and ruined all of her prospects?
It was the only thing that he could think of. He could see no other reason why an elegant and thoughtful woman would have never had another suitor since himself.
He knew that she was quiet. She was not the sort of person to draw attention to herself. But surely that soft, mature nature would draw in discerning men.
It had certainly drawn him in, at any rate.
But with one thing or another, whatever the reason, she was not yet married. And now she was giving up.
He wanted to run after her and grab her and tell her that she must not abandon hope. She was a wonderful woman. A frustrating woman who had broken his heart, true. He still had some issues with how she had handled their engagement.
But it did not change her overall character. She was a lovely woman. And she deserved to be married. She deserved to have a wonderful, loving husband who would provide for her. A man who would give her all that she deserved.
Of course, he could not tell her such a thing. It would be completely out of line and improper.
Not to mention that it would completely show his hand. It would reveal how much he still cared for her despite his best efforts. And despite her moving on quite fine on her end.
Still, it did not sit well with him. He did not like the idea that Miss Reginald was giving up.
She was a woman of strength. He had always known that. People often mistook her quiet nature and lack of energy for a weak spirit. But that had never been the case. She was firm in herself.
It was why he had been so surprised when she had refused to disobey her father and had broken off their engagement. She was someone who knew what was right and what was wrong. Someone who was firm in her beliefs. Someone who knew what she wanted.
He had been flabbergasted when she had ended things. How could this be the same woman that he had fallen in love with? This woman who so easily bent to the will of a bitter, tyrannical man who cared for nothing except status?
Now it seemed he was seeing that strange weakness once again.
It was none of his business, he told himself. Whatever he felt, he had no right to say or do anything about it. Miss Reginald would make her own choices in life and he could not meddle. As much as he might like to.
Chapter 9
Georgiana’s hunt for a home had gone about as well as she expected.
She had a few prospects, none as grand as she had been secretly hoping, but nothing that left her feeling too disheartened. Certainly nothing that had her gasping in horror.
This was something that she could make work. She just needed a little time to get used to it.
Living alone, if she did not entertain anyone and instead went calling upon other people or went to the public balls… it would keep her expenses down. She would not need much. She only would have to employ a couple of servants. No more than three, certainly.
Edward would not be pleased when she laid it all out for him. He would try to insist upon her staying at Foreshire with him and Maria. But she would not impose upon him.
She had to retain some level of dignity.
Julia was not a fan of the idea either.
“Are you sure that you want to go ahead with this?” she asked for the tenth time as they returned to the Weston residence.
“My dear, do you really think that you will get a different answer if you ask me enough times?”
“Hope springs eternal,” Julia replied cheekily.
Georgiana sighed as she entered the house. She had in her hand a list of the places that they had visited. She would shorten the list later on after they finished doing the morning calls.
Julia had promised to keep secret what Georgiana was planning. She did not want anyone to know about it. Otherwise everyone would begin to speculate, and it would be all over for her.
Everyone would say that she was officially a spinster. And while she was planning for it she would rather that nobody started gossiping about it any earlier than she could help it.
They changed quickly, and then Miss Perry and Miss Everett arrived.
Miss Perry, unfortunately, was no less talkative than she had been the night before. But she was a bit easier to handle when there were no men around. She was much more willing to listen and she appeared to be calmer in her manner.
It was almost sweet. Georgiana had seen it so often in young women. The eagerness to please men, to find a husband. It sparked a bit of nostalgia in her. Once, she had been that young and that hopeful. And possibly, at times, that silly.
Miss Everett she enjoyed speaking with.
“I think that we ought to attend one of the public balls that they host here,” Miss Everett said. “I know that one’s enjoyment of them can rather depend upon how many acquaintances one has.
“But between the four of us, we ought to know enough people to make it all pleasant enough. What do you say?”
Miss Perry was all for it, to nobody’s surprise. Julia was also in support of such an idea.
Georgiana was less certain. She was never a fan of crowds. But how could she possibly say no?
“It sounds like a lovely time,” she said instead.
Julia gave her a pleased yet sympathetic smile. “It will not be nearly so bad as you fear, I think,” her friend said quietly.
Georgiana begged to differ. She had come to Bath to get away from the crowds of people who were more than happy to snub her. Now she was about to fling herself into that mess all over again.
> Still, she got herself ready. Or as ready as she could possibly feel.
One of the benefits of being nearly a spinster but having a rather rich brother was that at least she was not trapped in her fashions.
Many poor unmarried older women could not afford to constantly update their wardrobe. Normally a husband or father would pay for such things.
But if a father was dead or trying to save money in his old age, and there was no husband…
Georgiana had seen many a woman wearing dresses from last year, or perhaps even two years ago.
It was a sad thing. The dresses themselves usually were quite pretty and fit well. But that did not matter to society. What mattered is that they were in a fashion that had been popular last year or two years ago.
That was enough for people to make comments.
Edward, of course, would never stand for his sister to be laughed at. He had stressed time and again that no expense should be spared for her and that Georgiana should never fear to spend money on herself.
Georgiana would never claim that she was comfortable with spending her brother’s money. But it was nice to know that she could afford to keep up with the fashions. It spared her at least one more way to be laughed at by others.
She had no time to get a new dress today of course. But she had ordered some new dresses before she had left for Bath in order to have them ready when she arrived.
She put one of them on—a pale green. She had been told many a time that she looked very good in pink, and pastel colors were in this year.
But pink was the color of young women. And that, Georgiana told herself firmly, she was not any longer. She should keep up with the fashions. But she should not pretend to be someone that she was not.
“Are you all ready?” Julia asked as Georgiana finished inspecting herself in the mirror.
“Do you think that I look as though I am trying too hard to stay young?” Georgiana asked.
She thought she looked nice. She aged well—but so had her mother. It ran in the family. She appreciated that her beauty was the kind that made her look stately as she got older.
But it did not matter so much what she thought as it did what society thought. She had learned that long ago.
Julia smiled at her. “You look ageless, as always. I quite envy your looks, I shall be a wrinkled old potato before long.”
“Never,” Georgiana declared loyally.
Julia laughed and took her hand. “You look lovely. Now come, we must be sure to get there in time or all the men shall have been placed on people’s dance cards already.”
Georgiana allowed herself to be led down the stairs to where the other ladies, Mrs. Weston—who was their escort—and the carriage were waiting.
Miss Perry was fairly vibrating with excitement. They always were at that age. Georgiana had always felt that she was the only one who was not fairly jumping up and down on her way to every ball.
“I am excited to meet so many people,” Miss Perry said. “I do hope that the gentlemen from last evening will be there as well. Such stimulating conversation, and such manners!”
Miss Everett sent Georgiana a conspiratorially annoyed look, as if to silently say, she will praise any man she thinks might marry her.
Georgiana gave an understanding smile in return. It was always hard not to see other women as competition, especially when one was younger. She could understand Miss Everett’s frustration.
“I think my favorite so far,” Miss Perry said once they were in the carriage, “is Captain Trentworth. A military man, he must be so brave. And I like the idea of a self-made man. You know he will be responsible.
“I’ve heard far too many stories of men who inherited wealth and simply wasted it because they did not appreciate it! Is that not sad? Not that I think Mr. Norwich or Mr. Tomlinson are that way, not at all.
“But it does give one some measure of comfort, does it not? To know that your husband understands the value of a dollar.”
“I should think it would be a sad thing for your husband to know such a thing,” Miss Everett replied. “After all, if he knows the value, then he knows how much you are spending on baubles at the high street.”
Julia laughed, as did Miss Perry, since Miss Everett spoke with an amused air and not in a pointed manner. Wit, Georgiana thought, was often reliant on tone. Words that were friendly and indulging in one tone became harsh and criticizing in another.
It was true, she could not help but think. Captain Trentworth was a self-made man. He had inherited some fortune but made the rest.
It was why so many young men went into the navy during war. It was a chance for them to take the spoils of the ships they attacked and raise themselves up in society. Second and third sons could become as rich and influential as their elder brothers.
If only her father had seen that, Georgiana thought bitterly. She hated to think ill of her father. But she was also under no illusions about what kind of man he had been: a harsh one. Too harsh, if you asked her.
Georgiana tried to ignore the surge of sadness and envy that rushed up in her as Miss Perry praised Captain Trentworth.
Why should the girl not praise him? He was a fine man. A handsome one, well spoken, with a distinguished career and now a fortune to boot.
Georgiana had no right to him. None at all. She could not begrudge the younger girl her feelings. Especially when Miss Perry seemed inclined to have feelings for nearly any man put in front of her.
But oh, how she couldn’t help hoping that Captain Trentworth’s taste had not changed so much. That he still was inclined towards the quieter, more dignified women.
To lose him to a flighty young thing such as Miss Perry felt like it might be too much to bear.
Lose him? Georgiana chastised herself. She did not have him and therefore she could not lose him. She had given him away long ago and now had no right to him.
The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the dance hall. Georgiana took a deep, calming breath as the other ladies descended.
Miss Perry hurried directly in. Miss Everett cocked an eyebrow, like she was looking at the den of a lion and considering if it was worth it, before following suit.
Julia waited for Georgiana. She was always kind that way. Never letting Georgiana be forgotten. It was that kindness, at the heart of her, that Georgiana knew made Julia so popular. People could sense it in her.
“Mother is the laziest of escorts,” Julia said as they walked into the ballroom. “She will find a place to sit and then go to sleep, you mark my words.”
“I do not think you give your mother quite enough credit,” Georgiana replied. “She would be on her feet in a second if there was a whiff of trouble directed towards us. You must remember, she stood up to my father and that was something no man in England was capable of doing.”
Julia laughed. “Oh, I do remember! It was when you wanted to accompany me on a country tour. We were going up to the north. And your father put his foot down.”
“And your mother marched right over to Foreshire and gave him a piece of her mind. I was terrified for her! I thought that he would not only kick her out but would get her ignored by society in general.
“But instead he agreed to let me go with you! I thought her quite the miracle worker then. I still do.”
Julia smiled. “Well, she had spirit. Father says it’s where I get mine. But now that she is so ill…”
Mr. Weston’s illness had been more sudden and had necessitated the move to Bath. He had recovered, however, and was now back in London on business.
Mrs. Weston’s illness was longer and slower. It was why the family had decided to stay in Bath. If it did her husband good then surely it would do her good as well, would it not?
That was the thinking behind it, in any case.
Georgiana knew that Julia was simply deflecting from her mother’s illness and her fears about it by making fun of her mother’s exhaustion.
She only hoped that Julia did not say such things wher
e Mrs. Weston could hear them. She feared that if so, Julia would have cause to regret it.
They stepped into the ballroom, and Georgiana was immediately assaulted by the sounds and sights around her.
Men and women were already twirling around the dance floor, moving like interlocking cogs and wheels in a clock as they stepped around and through one another.
The women were all wearing pastels, as was the current fashion. Many of them were also wearing white. It was the previous year’s fashion and it had not quite yet faded from popularity.