Casting another glance at Bella, Georgiana couldn’t help feeling guilty that she had not been able to satisfy her friend’s ambition, and, worse, would not be returning to London to continue their friendship. Arthur would have to find some other distraction for his wife next Season. Georgiana knew she would never return. She would never be able to face Lord Alton’s bride. He would eventually marry—an inescapable fate for one such as he. Already she felt a potent jealousy for the beautiful woman who would be his wife. Feeling despair weigh heavily on her shoulders, she forced away her unhappy thoughts and bent over her embroidery.
The door opened.
“A note for you, miss.”
Frowning, Georgiana reached for the white rectangle on Johnson’s salver, images of Charles and Lord Ellsmere in her mind. But one glance at the strong script emblazoned across the white parchment dispelled those weaker images, replacing them with a handsome, dark-featured face with warm blue eyes.
With the unnerving sensation of having her heart in her throat, Georgiana nodded a dismissal to Johnson and broke open the seal.
“What is it?” asked Bella, struggling to sit up.
Slowly Georgiana scanned the single sheet. Then, absent-mindedly, she said, “Your brother wants me to go down to the Place. His people want to know what to do with the furniture and so on.”
Bella, now sitting, nodded. “Yes, of course. You must tell them whether you want anything set aside.”
“But I don’t think there could possibly be anything I would want—” Georgiana began.
“You can’t tell that,” said Bella seriously. “Who knows? They might even stumble across those paintings of your father’s.”
Bella put her head on one side, the better to view her friend. To her mind, something was not entirely right between Georgiana and Dominic. Why on earth Georgie should fall into such a lethargy just because Dominic repaired to the country for a few days she could not imagine. As she saw it, it was only to be expected that her brother would want to see his affairs at Candlewick organised before he took his intended bride down for a prolonged stay. Despite the fact Dominic had apparently not as yet proposed, Bella was quite sure he would and that Georgiana’s plans for removal to Italy would never be realised. She knew her brother well enough to be certain he would view any interference with his schemes in a dim light. But, in this case, her confidence in the eventual outcome was supreme. Consequently, she was waiting with perfect equanimity for the time to come for them to leave for Candlewick.
“When are you to go?” Bella asked.
“He says he’ll come and fetch me tomorrow,” answered Georgiana, still struggling with conflicting emotions. The note was little more than a polite summons, its wording leaving no room for manoeuvre and even less for escape. Lord Alton would give himself the pleasure of fetching Miss Hartley at ten the next morning. He would undertake to return her to town that evening.
“Perhaps I should come down with you,” Bella suggested. “There’s nothing to keep me here, and I would like to see Jonathon.”
Georgiana readily agreed. In her present state, spending two hours and more in a closed carriage alone with Lord Alton was an undertaking too unnerving even to contemplate.
But when the subject was broached with Arthur that evening he surprised them both by vetoing his wife’s part in it.
“I’m afraid, my dear, that I would prefer you to remain in London for the next day or two. As Dominic plans to bring Georgiana back the same day, I really don’t think you should leave Green Street just yet.”
Put like that, it was impossible to argue the point.
Georgiana retired for the night, trying in vain to quell the entirely inappropriate leaping of her heart whenever she thought of the morrow. All was at an end between Lord Alton and herself. Why, then, did anticipation run in tantalising shivers down every nerve?
PRECISELY AT TEN the next morning, Lord Alton’s travelling chaise pulled up outside Winsmere House. Strolling unannounced into his sister’s back parlour, Dominic could not repress a smile at the picture that met his eyes. On the window-seat, his beloved sat, perfectly ready, fingers nervously twisting in the ribbons of her bonnet. Her gaze was fixed on the garden, a dull prospect beyond the glass.
His sister lay on the chaise, staring at the ceiling, a slight frown puckering her brows. It was she who first saw him.
“Oh!”
With that exclamation Bella sat up, putting up a hand to straighten the wisp of lace she had started experimenting with atop her dark curls. Dominic held out a hand to assist her to right herself, bending to drop an affectionate kiss on her cheek. Then he stood back and eyed her headgear.
Bella held her breath.
After a moment, Dominic’s brows rose. “Has Arthur seen that yet?”
“No,” said Bella.
“In that case, I suggest you burn it before he does.”
“Oh!” Spots of colour flew in Bella’s cheeks, eliciting a chuckle from her unrepentant brother. “If you’ve a mind to be disagreeable, I’ll leave you,” she replied haughtily.
But Dominic only smiled. “Don’t trouble yourself. It’s I who am about to leave you. If Miss Hartley is ready?”
Finding herself the object of his calm blue gaze, Georgiana nodded and rose. Within a matter of minutes her cloak had been gently placed about her shoulders and she was settled in the luxury of his carriage, a warm brick at her feet, a soft rug wrapped protectively about her knees.