by Fanny Finch
“I may not be a duchess or have a title to my name. But I am good with people. I am popular. People listen to me. You might call it flighty but I will use it and I will get you back to where you were all those years ago, money or no money!”
Miss Weston was fairly shaking with rage. Robert had no doubt in his mind that she would do it, too. He knew her mother and he knew her father. Miss Weston was born from them both.
If anyone had the ability and the spirit to do such a thing for the sake of her friend, it was Miss Julia Weston.
Mr. Norwich cleared his throat. “Miss Weston, I think some tea might be in order for you. You must have worked yourself up to quite a thirst. Would you mind accompanying me to the drawing room? I think you will appreciate the… calming color of the wallpaper.”
Miss Weston looked for a moment as though she might argue. But then she allowed herself to be led out of the room.
Robert was left alone.
Alone… to think.
He did not appreciate Miss Weston’s behavior. Not in the slightest. But he also did not dare risk invoking her wrath.
He was now in a position of respectability, with his career and his money. Miss Weston vowed to take that all away from him. Leave him barred from society as he had been when he’d been just a poor sailor.
No. He could not allow that to happen. He would not let one vengeful woman destroy all that he had built.
That meant he would have to apologize.
A letter. That ought to do it. He could not bear to see Miss Reginald in person. Who knew what he might say or how he might feel.
He would write to her and apologize while Miss Weston was being given tea with Mr. Norwich. He would hand it over to Miss Weston as she left, and then he too would leave. He would quit Bath altogether.
Not that he was under any illusions that even if he apologized, Miss Weston would let him come to her dinners anymore. But there was too great a chance that he would run into Miss Reginald elsewhere.
He could not stand that. He had to get her out of his mind. He had to get away from her. Then he would meet some other charming girl and marry her.
That way if he did run across Miss Reginald again and he was tempted, his marriage would stop him. He would be forced to stay away from her and to remain true to his wife.
There. That would solve everything, would it not? He would not trouble or harm Miss Reginald again. At least, according to Miss Weston’s standards. And she would not be able to trouble him again. Or if she did, it would be only in his heart and they would never have to speak of it. He could pretend that it did not exist.
A satisfactory solution, if you asked him, all around.
Robert quickly procured a pen and paper and began to write.
He was not going to apologize for all of it. He was not so hypocritical or cowardly as Miss Weston claimed. How dare she even suggest such a thing?
He did, however, apologize for not taking Miss Reginald’s risk into consideration and for treating her revelation of her feelings with less decorum and gentility than they deserved.
He also apologized for making assumptions about her brother.
Not that he truly thought that he was in the wrong about that. But he knew that if he did not include it, neither Miss Weston nor Miss Reginald would truly forgive him, and he would be right back at square one.
He wrote quickly, only stopping to check that he was not saying anything that would land him in even more hot water with Miss Weston.
He had no idea what was being said over tea but he could imagine that if anyone was capable of calming down someone as worked up as Miss Weston had gotten, it was going to be Mr. Norwich.
When he finished he quickly folded up the letter, wrote Miss Reginald on the front, and then retired to the drawing room.
Miss Weston was just finishing up her tea, it seemed, and she was rising to go.
“Thank you for being such a gracious host,” she told Mr. Norwich. “I apologize that you had to hear such a personal conversation.”
“No need to apologize, Miss Weston,” Mr. Norwich replied. “It was the most entertainment I have gotten in weeks. I admire your spirit.”
Robert sent him a look of betrayal that Mr. Norwich ignored.
Miss Weston turned, saw Robert standing there, and immediately adopted a rather impressive look of disdain. “Please, don’t bother groveling, I’m not the one that you should be doing it to.”
“I was only hoping that you might give this to Miss Reginald upon your return to the house,” Robert told her, handing the letter over.
Miss Weston took it and curtsied, then exited, saying nothing more to him.
Once the front door had closed, Mr. Norwich said, “I should hate to be the one in her crossfire. You made quite the enemy, Captain.”
“I wasn’t even aware that was what I was apparently doing last night,” Robert replied. “I was only speaking my mind. I don’t think that a man can be faulted for that.”
Mr. Norwich rang for the tea service to be cleaned up. “I think you ought to dwell on the whole thing a little longer,” he said. “You seem like the sort of man who takes time to contemplate things.”
Robert frowned. “Why do I sense some scheme in how you say that?”
“There is no scheme,” Mr. Norwich replied. “I think only that you are more emotionally invested in this matter than I am. Therefore, I am able to be detached and see things in a calmer way than you are at the moment. If you take your time, eventually the emotions will go away. And when they do, you will be able to see the entire situation in a much clearer light.”
Robert wasn’t certain how much more clearly the situation could be seen. But he didn’t want to get into an argument again, although he suspected that wasn’t what Mr. Norwich was after.
“I’m afraid that I will have to take my leave of you,” he said, changing the subject. “I have loitered in Bath for too long. I really ought to get to London and start organizing my assets properly and speaking to someone about purchasing an estate.”
“I am not entirely surprised to hear that you are going,” Mr. Norwich replied. “After what I have just witnessed, I can imagine that Bath feels a little too uncomfortable for you at the moment.”
“That is certainly one way to put it,” Robert admitted. “Thank you for all of your generosity and hospitality. I appreciate your guidance.”
“Never hesitate to write if you have any more questions,” Mr. Norwich assured him. “I will be going up to London myself eventually. You will have to keep in touch so that I might look you up when I am there.”
“I should like that, thank you, sir.”
Robert packed quickly, for he had only brought a few things. There was not much that he really owned. There was nothing much that he could keep on a ship and he had to be able to move it around quickly.
He would have much more soon once he finished handling his aunt’s estate. It would take a lot of work but that was clearly what he needed right now.
Something to distract him. Something to focus on besides the ridiculous affairs of the heart. He would get himself settled with an estate and handle all of his inheritance and whatnot.
Then he could go back into this whole finding a wife business. Far, far away from wherever Miss Reginald happened to be.
When he finished packing and saying his goodbyes and got his carriage to London, Bath fading behind him… he told himself that it was good to cling to his anger.
His anger would be what preserved him. It had been what had gotten him through the last few years, wasn’t it?
He just had to remember it. It would be what he could cling to when his heart tried to betray him and remind him of all of Miss Reginald’s charms. As it inevitably would try to do.
Robert turned away from Bath and faced front, toward London. He had other things to think about.
He told himself that the twisting in his gut was just a heavy breakfast.
Chapter 18
Georgiana was
sitting and reading poetry to Mrs. Weston when Julia returned from her walk.
“How are you doing, Mother?” Julia asked, coming over and giving her mother a kiss on the cheek.
“Quite well, thank you. We ought to keep Georgiana around all the time. I forgot what an attentive companion she is. I would say she’s like a daughter to me but she behaves far better than any daughter of mine.”
“Oh, hush, you cat,” Julia replied, refilling her mother’s cup of tea.
The Weston women bantered back and forth like this. There was no real heat in it. When Georgiana had been a child and first introduced to the family she had been surprised by this behavior. She had worried that the members of the family all hated each other.
Coming from a stern household such as the one her father cultivated, she did not understand that people could be so lighthearted with one another—that it was possible to tease.
Now she knew much better, and only smiled indulgently as the younger and older Weston women went at it with one another.
“Oh!” Julia turned, presenting Georgiana with a letter. “And this is for you. You must allow me to read it, though, when you are through. I have to make certain that it is properly done.”
Georgiana recognized the handwriting at once. Her heart seemed to stop for a moment, then proceeded to hammer in her throat.
It was Captain Trentworth’s handwriting.
She opened the letter slowly. Before, when they had been corresponding, she had opened them slowly in order to savor it.
Now, she did it because she was afraid. What could he possibly have to say to her? Was he going to somehow find a way to hurt her even more?
The letter inside was brief, done up in his spidery handwriting, the one that she had once known—still did know—as well as her own.
Dear Miss Reginald,
It has been brought to my attention rather forcefully that I did you an ill service yesterday.
I do not know if seeing you in person to either speak with you or deliver this letter is the best thing. It is clear that we are a source of great emotion and pain for one another and I do not wish to stir up any great feelings of sadness within you.
Please forgive me for not appreciating how much courage you used last night. You gave your heart to me and spoke plainly and that took great effort. I should have been more considerate.
I also must apologize for the things I said about your brother. I cannot say that I understand the bonds between siblings as I do not have any. But I understand one’s loyalty to family. Had my parents been insulted in such a manner I would have been as upset as you were.
I hope that this letter finds you well and that you will not think too harshly of me.
Sincerely,
Captain Robert Trentworth
Georgiana sat there, staring at the letter.
It did not sound like a true apology. He was still angry, she could tell. Oh, the words were all right enough, for the most part. But the opening line. And the use of ‘I must’ for his apologies.
She had heard and read Captain Trentworth’s apologies before. They sounded nothing like this.
And there was nothing in the letter about his feelings, if he still had any.
No, she had run him off for good. She had tried, and she had failed. There was nothing left but to give him up properly, in her heart.
“What does it say?” Julia asked.
“Nothing good, if we are to judge by her face,” Mrs. Weston said.
Georgiana wordlessly handed the letter to Julia, who read it over.
“Why, that is hardly an apology!” Julia protested. “I ought to—”
“You ought to do nothing,” Georgiana replied gently. “Am I right in suspecting that you are the reason this matter was ‘forcefully brought to his attention’, Julia?”
“I might have stopped by Mr. Norwich’s residence during my morning calls and… informed the captain of a few facts.” Julia looked innocently out the window, but Georgiana was far from fooled.
“You are a horrible liar, Julia Weston, and you always have been. How badly did you behave? I hope that you did not insult Mr. Norwich.”
“Mr. Norwich was quite amused by the whole exchange, actually. He gave me tea while the captain wrote this apology note. I believe that was the most exciting thing that Mr. Norwich has experienced in quite some time.”
“Of course it is,” Georgiana sighed. “How you manage to make what is normally considered completely unacceptable something that is amusing and applauded is beyond me.”
“It is my special talent,” Julia replied. She set the letter down. “Well, I am certainly not inviting him to dinner any longer. But I shall hold back on completely destroying him. How do you feel about it all, my dear?”
Georgiana sighed and allowed herself to slump back in her chair. “I do not know how I ought to feel. It does not feel like a proper apology. But perhaps I should accept the fact that no matter what I do, I will never, in his mind, make up for what I did.”
“You did what you thought was best,” Julia pointed out.
“But I took no risks,” Georgiana replied. “I had no courage. If I had married him… my father would have died much sooner than we expected. Edward would reinstall me in society. He never agreed with Father on the decision to refuse to give his blessing.”
“But you didn’t know that at the time,” Mrs. Weston added. “You were weighing love against survival. Now is the time to be brave. Now you can afford it. But not everyone can afford to be brave. Your father looked like he was going to live for years.”
“At least you know that now you did all that you could,” Julia said softly, encouragingly.
Georgiana was not sure that she did. But she could not think of anything else she could have said that would make it all better.
“Perhaps I should have been slower,” she said. “Perhaps I should not have tried to dump it all on him so quickly. I should have taken my time to allow him to grow used to the idea that I might have feelings for him again…”
“You put yourself out there and you did exactly what he had said that you were incapable of doing,” Julia pointed out. “I think that is something that you ought to be proud of yourself for.”
Georgiana straightened up. “Well. There is nothing for it now.”
She could remember well how she had counseled Maria during her time when she was fighting with Edward.
She had told the girl to go to bed and that it would all be better in the morning. She had told her not to worry, that it would all work out.
Well, she must tell herself those things now. She was going to be fine. She would get through this.
A servant entered. “A Mr. Tomlinson wishes to call,” he said.
It was later in the day, which was clever of him. The later in the day that one called, the better friends one had to be with someone. Because if one called late enough, one could receive an invitation to stay and have dinner with the family.
Since Mr. Tomlinson was already invited to dinner that evening, he must have seen the opportunity to call later and simply stay on through until the food was served.
“I do not know if I can receive any callers today,” Georgiana admitted.
Julia stood. “Tell him that my mother and Miss Reginald are out of the house, but I would be happy to receive him in the other drawing room.”
The servant bowed and exited.
Julia placed her hand on Georgiana’s shoulder. “You may have your day, my dear.”
One day. She could relax until dinner and by then she would be composed enough to handle everyone.
Tomorrow, though… and at dinner tonight as well, most likely… she would need to start receiving Mr. Tomlinson’s flirtations with more open acceptance and grace.
There was no use in hiding herself away anymore. She had to get married and he was quite clearly offering.
It would, if nothing else, force her to take her mind off of Captain Trentworth. It wasn’t proper for her to
hold a candle for one man while being married to another.
Yes… if nothing else, it would save her in that way. Save her from herself.
She could hear Mr. Tomlinson speak with Julia in the foyer, although she could not hear what was being said. She then heard him leave again. Evidently, since Georgiana was not there—at least not to his knowledge—Mr. Tomlinson was not interested.
Well, if Georgiana had needed any more confirmation, that was it. He was clearly interested in courting her.
Georgiana sighed and picked up her book of poetry to continue reading. One day, just as she had told Maria, and then all would be better.