Читать книгу Historical Romance June 2017 Books 1 - 4 - Энни Берроуз, Annie Burrows - Страница 18

Chapter Eight

Stepmama waited until the last visitor had gone before commencing her interrogation. ‘What was he speaking to you about? Lord Ashenden, that is. I don’t need to ask what Major Gowan said to you. He has a clear voice. The voice of a man used to command.’

She meant, Georgiana thought, that he was used to bawling orders across a parade ground and hadn’t bothered to adapt his tone to what was suitable for a polite drawing room.

‘But Lord Ashenden can never be heard above a crowd,’ said Stepmama with just a hint of a sneer. ‘Besides which he turned his back to me, when he got you on that sofa, just as though he didn’t want me to so much as guess what he might be saying.’

He probably hadn’t.

‘Military tactics, Stepmama,’ said Georgiana without the slightest hesitation and almost complete honesty. Because that was, on the surface, what Edmund had been talking about. Anyone overhearing them would not have guessed that he’d been attempting to give her a few pointers on how to handle herself with an unwelcome suitor. If the Major was a suitor for her hand.

She shuddered. He’d certainly been keen to tell her all about the estate from which he hailed, the horses his father kept in the stables and the hunting to be had in the area. Was that how a man showed he was interested in a girl as a prospective bride? By talking incessantly about himself?

‘I am not surprised to see you shudder. What a strange thing to talk about during an at-home,’ said Stepmama, completely misunderstanding Georgiana’s reaction. Thankfully. ‘Still, he always was a very odd young man by all accounts. Not surprising that he’s grown into an eccentric.’

‘Eccentric? He is not eccentric. He’s—’

‘I think he’s rather fascinating,’ put in Sukey hastily, before Georgiana could get herself into trouble by launching a defiant and heated defence.

Fascinating was a very good word to describe the adult Edmund, actually. Even when she was angry with him, he could make her laugh. Or want to laugh, anyway. She’d had to bite down quite hard to stop herself when he’d spouted all that nonsense about the delicacies of the female eye.

‘He was certainly fascinated by you, my dear,’ said Stepmama to Sukey, happily diverted from the subject. ‘I saw the way he was looking at you as he was drinking his tea. He stood there, just gazing down at you, as though he’d never seen anything so lovely.’ She leaned forward and gave Sukey’s cheeks a loving pat. ‘And little wonder. You are exactly to his taste. By all accounts.’ She leaned back, flushing. ‘Not that we should pay any attention to that sort of thing. All men have their little diversions before they are married. And some of them, particularly those of his rank, have them after, as well.’

Georgiana couldn’t think why that statement made her spirits sink. It wasn’t as if she had any matrimonial hopes in that direction. Edmund had rejected her proposal in no uncertain terms. He had only called upon them today, because... She frowned. Actually, she wasn’t sure why he’d called. To let her know that he disapproved of her gown and her behaviour? He’d done that, right enough. And then gone on to rescue her and to give her advice as to how to avoid getting backed into corners by idiots like Major Gowan, whilst admitting she didn’t need it because she had the sense to avoid such situations now she knew they were likely to occur. He’d also totally confused her last night by saying she looked magnificent, directly after expressing his disapproval of her low-cut bodice, and then, to crown it all, today he’d taken her hand and patted it.

She looked down at it, in bewilderment. It still tingled from his touch. In fact, her whole being had leapt when he’d taken it in his. Probably because it had been the first time he’d touched her in a natural, affectionate sort of way since...since they’d been children. And because, for the entire time they’d been talking, she’d been able to forget that he was an earl and she was a nobody. He’d made her feel like a person again, instead of an...an object of lust, simply by looking directly into her eyes while he’d been speaking to her, without once appearing tempted to let his gaze slide down to her bosom.

Except in disapproval that too much of it was on show.

Which meant he didn’t feel the slightest bit attracted to her, as a woman. Not that she wanted him to start acting like a lustful, drooling idiot. And yet...it was perplexingly depressing, all the same.

She’d given too much credit to his declaration she looked magnificent, that’s where she’d gone wrong. He’d probably only said it in an attempt to make her feel better about herself, once he’d remembered what she’d said about disliking being treated like a prize heifer.

She eyed her stepmother with resentment. Trust her to take all the pleasure out of the encounter with Edmund, with just a few choice phrases. For that was what she’d done. Before her remark about the way he’d been looking at Sukey, she’d been basking in what had felt almost like a return to old times. She’d loved the way he’d launched into that nonsense about optical orbs and sunlight from west-facing windows, to tease her for rolling her eyes at the Major. She loved the way he’d wielded his intellect, like a rapier, skewering an opponent who’d been too slow to even notice the attack. Or the defence, rather, because he’d befuddled the Major on her behalf.

Which had been most chivalrous of him. Until now, she’d thought he’d grown into an aloof, and cold, and cutting man. But she’d never heard of him using his intellect against anyone who didn’t deserve a set-down. And there was always talk about him. There was talk about all people of his rank. The doings of the ton filled columns of print every day. Even though the names were left out, the newspapermen gave sufficient clues to leave nobody in any doubt about who had been doing what with whom.

Perhaps that was what had made it much harder for her to put him out of her mind, than for him to forget about her. She was always hearing snatches of gossip that had reached Bartlesham from London, or Oxford. Not just the gossip about his love life, either. Locals had been vicariously proud of each paper he’d presented to various scientific societies, even though it confirmed the opinion that he was an odd sort of man, to sit up all night catching moths, let alone wasting hours of daylight cataloguing them.

But what was she ever likely to do that would make a newspaper wish to write about it? Nothing.

She might scoff at the Major for being a slowtop, but the truth was she had far more in common with him than with Edmund nowadays.

Though she hated to admit Stepmama could be right about anything, Major Gowan was just the sort of man she ought to consider marrying. He liked living in the country. When he was in London on duty, he was grateful that he could at least spend a great deal of it on horseback, he’d told her. And more to the point, he liked the look of her. Or her bosom, at any rate.

She shuddered again. Was that to be her future? Shackled to a brainless boor who would only ever be interested in her body?

‘Now that the visitors have gone, you may run up and get a shawl, Georgiana,’ said Stepmama, mistaking her shiver of revulsion at the prospect of having to marry a man like Major Gowan for one of cold.

‘Thank you, Stepmama,’ she said meekly, relieved to escape the room before the interrogation went any further. For if she had to give her opinion about the first suitor her stepmother had flung in her path, it would have been a struggle to say anything even remotely polite.

She would rather go to work as a...as a...

She came to a dead halt halfway up the stairs. Actually, what sort of work could she get? Not as a governess, Stepmama had been right about that. She had none of the accomplishments young ladies required. Her father hadn’t thought that sort of education necessary when she’d been little, and by the time he married Stepmama it had been considered too late to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Stepmama had therefore concentrated on drilling her in correct behaviour.

Her bottom winced at the memory of just how mercilessly she’d drilled that behaviour into her, which got her moving up the stairs again.

What other occupations did indigent females of her station go into? Milliner, seamstress? Out of the question. She couldn’t sew a straight seam to save her life and had no eye for fashion whatever. Companion to an elderly lady? She’d go mad.

She could, probably, go on the stage. The one thing Stepmama had succeeded in teaching her was how to pretend to be something she wasn’t. She didn’t think she’d have any difficulty learning her lines, either. The trouble was, actresses had to put up with lots of men drooling over them on a nightly basis, rather than just one.

A reflection that put paid to any thought of having a career on the stage. She slouched along the hall, went into her room and draped a shawl round her upper body in a purely defensive gesture.

Perhaps next time she met Major Gowan, she’d better try harder to look as though she didn’t find him altogether repulsive.

Because so far, he appeared to be her only honourable option.

And at least he’d let her have a horse.

* * *

The next day, Mrs Pargetter and her two daughters were, yet again, the first callers to arrive. To Stepmama’s delight, they arrived in a carriage with a crest on the door. Sukey spied it from the drawing-room window, where she’d been standing watching the traffic going round the square. Stepmama cast her embroidery aside and joined her at the window, where they both pressed their noses to the pane to see who might emerge.

‘It’s Dotty and Lotty,’ said Sukey, in amazement. ‘Oh, and Lady Havelock!’

‘Well, that explains the carriage, then,’ said Stepmama, hurrying back to her chair and flapping her hands to Sukey and Georgiana to adopt similarly domestic poses.

When the Pargetters tumbled into the room, flushed from climbing the stairs, Stepmama pressed her hands to her bosom in feigned surprise.

‘My dear Lady Havelock, how good of you to call. What an unexpected pleasure!’

‘I hope you don’t mind. I have also brought my husband’s half-sister, Miss Julia Durant,’ she said rather breathlessly, as a rather spotty girl who didn’t look old enough to have emerged from the schoolroom came in behind her.

As soon as everyone had dropped the necessary curtsies, Dotty and Lotty made straight for the sofa on which Sukey was sitting. They were soon busily discussing the gowns they planned to wear for the rout they were all attending that evening.

Mrs Pargetter and Lady Havelock sat on the sofa closest to the fire. Stepmama joined them and immediately launched a barrage of questions. Ever since they’d visited Durant House, all sorts of people had approached Stepmama, wanting to know how Lady Havelock had managed to transform the place from a dreary mausoleum into what they now declared was a showpiece. And now that she had the chance to find out, Stepmama was wasting no time furnishing herself with as much information as she could.

Which left Georgiana to entertain the spotty schoolgirl, who’d wandered across the room to the only remaining sofa and dropped on to it sulkily.

Once Georgiana had made sure all the others had cups of tea and as many biscuits as they wanted, she took refreshments over to Miss Durant. The girl took her cup of tea with a polite enough smile, but when Georgiana made as if to sit next to her, the smile vanished and was replaced by a scowl.

‘If you’re planning to start talking about frills and furbelows, don’t bother,’ she growled. ‘And I don’t want to hear another word about paint or plaster or curtains or upholstery either.’

‘I didn’t have any topic in mind when I came to sit here,’ said Georgiana, promptly deciding that such frank speech deserved a frank answer. ‘It is just that, before much longer, there are bound to be some gentlemen callers and I’d rather not give them a chance to think they can sit down next to me.’

Miss Durant’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘Don’t you want to have admirers, then? Isn’t that why you’ve come to London? To find a husband?’

‘It is why I’ve come to London,’ she conceded with a sigh. ‘Yes.’

‘But you don’t like the way they will squash you on sofas if they think they can get away with it,’ said Miss Durant, demonstrating a quick understanding.

‘Good heavens, do they do that to you, too? But you’re only...’

‘Fifteen, yes, but that doesn’t stop them. In fact, it positively encourages some of them, because they think I’m too young and ignorant to see what they’re about.’

‘Good heavens,’ said Georgiana again, too stunned to think of anything more original. ‘That’s...that’s...disgraceful. Are all men such...?’

‘Bounders,’ said Miss Durant resentfully. ‘Yes, they are. All of them except my brother, that is. Gregory is a regular trump.’ She half-turned to Georgiana, her face coming alight. ‘He even married her,’ she said, nodding her head in Lady Havelock’s direction, ‘to save me from the perfectly ghastly man my stepmother was going to marry. And now I live under his roof all those scabby fortune-hunters will think twice about trying anything with me. Gregory would shoot them dead,’ she finished with relish.

‘Would he?’

‘Oh, yes. He’s already fought two duels and is a crack shot.’

‘That’s all very well, but...’

‘I suppose you’re going to say I shouldn’t be talking about duels and fortune hunters wanting you to elope, and stepfathers wanting to...’ She clammed up.

‘No. That wasn’t what I was going to say at all,’ said Georgiana indignantly. ‘I was actually just wondering why your brother hasn’t taught you to defend yourself, that’s all.’

‘Defend myself? What do you mean? Shoot a pistol?’ Her eyes lit up.

‘Oh, ah, yes, I did mean that, but—’ She darted a guilty glance in Stepmama’s direction. Oh, dear. She hoped this rather bloodthirsty girl wasn’t going to go home and tell Lord Havelock that Miss Georgiana Wickford had suggested she take up shooting pistols as a hobby. Stepmama would be livid.

Miss Durant followed the direction of her guilty glance and cocked her head to one side. ‘She’s the kind of woman who lives by a set of silly rules and regulations, and thinks girls shouldn’t step one foot outside them, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, but how did you...?’

‘Oh, I’ve had dozens of stepmothers just like her,’ said the girl scornfully. ‘Not a one of them could break me, though.’

Georgiana could instantly see Edmund’s hand in this meeting. Only last night he’d said she ought to mix with girls with whom she had something in common. Not only did Julia have an aversion to importunate suitors, but she also had experience of overbearing stepmothers.

What was more, even though part of what she’d just said was clearly an exaggeration, it certainly confirmed a suspicion that was slowly forming in Georgiana’s mind. ‘You are...what they call...a hellion, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ said Miss Durant with pride.

‘I...I think I envy you,’ said Georgiana, faintly.

Miss Durant’s upper lip curled in scorn.

‘No, truly,’ said Georgiana, with feeling. ‘I have only ever succeeded in being a bit of a hoyden.’ She’d crumbled under the pressure to behave the way Stepmama decreed. Not because of the beatings, but because of the more subtle pressure exerted by Sukey’s distress and Papa’s disappointment. Yet Julia was proudly defiant. Here was a girl who would say exactly what she thought, and behave exactly as she pleased, no matter what.

For a moment, her heart lifted. For Edmund was sending her the message that he believed it was perfectly acceptable to be her true self.

Or... Her heart plummeted. Was the message one of censure? Was he telling her that he was disappointed in her for not sticking to her guns, the way Miss Durant had clearly done, no matter how many stepmothers had attempted to ‘improve’ her?

While she was wondering exactly what message Edmund had been trying to convey, through Miss Durant, the girl in question was laughing at her.

‘You?’ She scanned the stupid mass of curls clustering round Georgiana’s face, the frills and flounces abounding on her fashionable gown and the dainty slippers on her feet.

‘Yes, me,’ protested Georgiana hotly. ‘I might be dressed up like a Christmas goose, fattened for market, but that is only because she is determined to get me off her hands.’

‘I’ve had stepmothers like that, too,’ said Miss Durant with a twist to her lips. ‘Trying to make you into a lady. Strapping you into corsets and swathing you in muslin so flimsy you can hardly go for a decent walk let alone—’

‘Climb a tree,’ Georgiana finished for her.

They sighed, in unison.

‘Do you hate London as much as I do?’ Miss Durant asked.

‘Probably more. At least nobody is trying to make you get married.’

‘No, I shall be spared that for a few years yet,’ Miss Durant agreed. ‘But in the meantime, what is a girl supposed to do? I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad if I could get out for a decent ride, but ladies aren’t allowed to go out without a groom—’

‘Or have a really good gallop.’

‘No. I say, though, does that mean you ride?’

‘Well, I would if I could, only...’

Something must have shown on her face as she silently mourned the loss of Whitesocks, because Miss Durant’s own puckered in concern.

‘What is it? Did they make you leave your favourite hack behind?’

‘Worse. He had to be sold. We are—oh, dear, I’m not supposed to admit this...’

‘Under the hatches?’

‘Oh, no. It’s not as bad as that. It’s just that Stepmama wants people to believe...that is—’ She broke off, aghast at how close she’d come to confiding their financial circumstances to a virtual stranger.

‘Well, never mind that,’ said Miss Durant brusquely. ‘What concerns me is—’ Now it was her turn to break off mid-sentence. And her eyes darted about rapidly, just as though she was scanning several options. ‘Yes, I have it. The perfect solution to both our difficulties. You see she—’ she jerked her head in Lady Havelock’s direction ‘—is always saying I cannot go out riding without a suitable escort. And she cannot ride herself, even if she wasn’t in a condition I’m not supposed to mention—though I cannot think why, since it’s common knowledge she’s breeding.’ She paused to draw breath. ‘And you don’t have a horse in Town, so this will really make me look good, too.’

‘What will?’

‘Why, you will be my suitable escort, of course. I can come round for you first thing, with my spare hack, and a groom, of course.’ She pulled a face. ‘Cannot shake the fellow off, but I suppose it’s probably for the best, the way London beaus carry on if they catch a female on their own.’

‘Even in a drawing room,’ Georgiana agreed bitterly.

‘Exactly. Groom welcome, then. Pistols optional.’

‘I haven’t got a pistol any longer.’ Georgiana sighed, shaking her head. ‘Have you?’

Miss Durant grinned. ‘No, but I’m going to ask Gregory to buy me one. And to teach me to shoot it. And, oh, I say, we could practise together!’

‘I should love that,’ said Georgiana wistfully. ‘Only—’ She darted another guilty glance at her stepmother.

Miss Durant wrinkled her nose. ‘I cannot think why some females are so stupid about that sort of thing. Why shouldn’t we learn to shoot? It’s not as if we are planning to turn to a life of crime, is it?’

‘No, but—’ Georgiana clapped her hand to her mouth.

‘What?’

‘I was just imagining lying in wait, behind some bushes, and leaping out upon...someone.’

‘One of your dastardly suitors? Or, no, even better,’ said Miss Durant, getting into the spirit of things, ‘some drunken bucks. Staggering home at dawn from White’s, or Boodles. Lawks! Only think of what the newspapers would make of that. Footpads in petticoats.’

‘No, no,’ Georgiana protested. ‘You said we were going out on horseback. We’d have to be h-highwaymen in p-petticoats.’

At which point they both collapsed in giggles.

Which made Lady Havelock rise from her sofa and come across the room.

‘I am glad to see you girls getting on so well,’ she said. ‘What are you two finding so amusing?’

‘Miss Wickford was just suggesting...’ Miss Durant began with an impish gleam in her eye which made Georgiana hold her breath. ‘That is, I thought,’ Miss Durant continued, ‘that she might like to come out riding with me some mornings. She hasn’t brought a horse to Town with her. So I could lend her Snowdrop. Oh, do say yes, Mary.’

‘Could you possibly spare your stepdaughter some mornings,’ said Lady Havelock, turning to Stepmama with a winsome smile, ‘to accompany this hoyden for a ride in the park? I am afraid that Julia is finding her stay in Town sadly flat, since I am unable to take her out riding. Lord Havelock and I really would be most terribly grateful if you would say yes.’

Georgiana held her breath. She couldn’t see Stepmama refusing Lady Havelock’s request that she become intimate with a member of such an exalted family. Not as long as Miss Durant said nothing about the pistol shooting. Which was a very real danger, considering how rash the girl appeared to be about voicing her opinion.

‘Georgiana would love that, would you not, my dear? Although...’ Stepmama twisted her hands together ‘...I do not like to sound overprotective, but...and of course I do not mean to sound stuffy, either, but you will provide a groom to attend the girls, won’t you?’

‘Of course. Gregory—that is, Lord Havelock—is terribly strict about that sort of thing. Julia is an heiress, you see, so we cannot guard her too carefully.’

Stepmama relaxed into a smile of genuine delight. Not only had she just discovered that Julia Durant was an heiress, but her own insistence on having a groom in attendance had clearly done her no harm in Lady Havelock’s estimation.

‘Well,’ she said, as soon the last of their morning callers had gone, ‘isn’t it a good thing you have your riding habit with you? Even though we couldn’t afford to stable a horse in London?’

Georgiana bit back the retort that she no longer had a horse to stable anywhere. And that the only reason she had her riding habit was because they’d had to pack all their possessions and remove them from Six Chimneys when her father’s cousin had moved in.

She was not going to say, or do, anything that might induce Stepmama to change her mind about permitting her to go out on horseback. Nor give her cause to suspect she might be taking up an activity of which she disapproved so strongly that she’d confiscated the pistols Papa had given her.

She just hoped Miss Durant’s brother was as open-minded about it as the girl believed, that was all. Because he sounded too good to be true.