"Thank you." She looks between the two of us. "Both of you."
Mary reaches out and gives her hand a squeeze. "Let's talk of happier things," she says, clearly trying to take Georgiana's mind off the situation.
"Such as?" I ask.
"What are you wearing for Lady Ferrington's next ball? Will you have a new dress?"
I let out a small groan. "I'll have a new one."
"You don't seem very excited about it. You love getting new dresses," Georgiana says.
"Not when the Countess has picked out every detail of it."
"Oh, that doesn't sound pleasant," Mary says. "Is she trying to control your entire wardrobe?"
"She would have if Lord Cygnus hadn't already insisted that I could use my own modiste."
"Then how has the Countess controlling your dress for Lady Ferrington's?" Georgiana asks.
"It's a peace offering of sorts," I admit. "She's been rather disapproving of me since I married Lord Cygnus. Well, since before, actually. I had hoped that agreeing to her choice of dress for one event would help make things better between us."
"Do you think it worked?" Mary asks.
"I don't think we'll know for a while yet. She didn't seem quite as disapproving when she stepped in here before you arrived."
"She'll probably be more amenable once you and Lord Cygnus start having children. Securing an heir is your main purpose now," Georgiana says.
"I'm not sure I'm ready to be a mother."
"You weren't ready for marriage either," she reminds me.
"We shall see." I'd rather hoped on more time to enjoy our marriage before children became part of it, but if that is what fate has in store for us, then I won't be as against it as I might have been even a few weeks ago.
It seems as if everything is falling into place for me beyond anything I could have imagined.
Seventeen
Letitia
I sweepthe charcoal across the page, admiring the way in which it shades the lake. I stare at the page in concentration as two swans take shape. I can't see any of the creatures on the lake at the moment, but I suspect these aren't just any swans, they're supposed to be me and Philip.
I let out a satisfied sigh, recalling the end of the evening.
A knock on the drawing room door pulls my attention away from my thoughts, and I turn, already knowing who I will find standing there waiting for me. No one else in the house wouldthink to knock, and if I had a guest from outside the household, one of the servants would be announcing them.
"Come in," I call to my husband.
The door creaks open and I turn to find him stepping into the room.
"You don't have to knock, Philip," I say.
"I wouldn't dare to not, this is your space, and I intend to treat it as such."
"I appreciate that, but it's still not necessary." I smile at him so he knows I appreciate the courtesy, even if he doesn't have to give it. Or perhaps that's why it feels good for him to offer it.
"May I see what you're working on?" he asks.
"Of course." I gesture to my drawing desk. "I know it isn't the best."