Regency Society

Her life would be less than comfortable even when she reached the safety of her aunt’s home, Georgie realised, and there was no guarantee that the countess would be willing to defy her uncle. As Richard had pointed out, her uncle was her legal guardian, of course, and could demand her return at least until she came into her inheritance.

Notwithstanding her troubled thoughts, Georgie slept soon after her head touched the pillow.

She woke as soon as the first rosy fingers of dawn began to creep through the partially drawn curtains, and was dressed and ready when the maid brought her a breakfast tray containing soft rolls, honey and a pot of dark chocolate.

Once she had eaten, Georgie gathered her things and went downstairs. She discovered that Richard and Henderson were already in the hall, and by the sound of it they had something important to discuss. However, they stopped speaking as one and turned to look at her as she reached the bottom stair, a picture of youthful beauty in her yellow gown and white shawl, the pelisse over her arm. She had no bonnet or even a ribbon to tie up her hair and so it fell on to her shoulders in a riotous tangle of shining curls and waves.

‘You are ready, then,’ Richard said, his eyes seeming to dwell rather too long on her slender form. ‘I was about to send the maid to see if you were. I trust you slept well?’

‘Very well,’ Georgie replied. She thought that some of the shadows had gone from beneath his eyes and assumed that he too had rested. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Henderson says he thinks we were followed here yesterday evening. The grooms told him someone was inquiring for a gentleman travelling with a youth, but since I had warned them to be on their guard they told him nothing.’

‘Was he a Frenchman?’

‘Yes, they seem to think so—at least they said he had a queer accent, so it seems likely it was Thierry or one of his cronies.’

A little shiver ran down Georgie’s spine. She had hoped that Thierry would be left far behind, but if he had followed her here he might have ideas of snatching her from beneath her great-aunt’s nose. She would have to be careful not to go out alone.

‘Well, are you ready?’ Richard looked at her, a crease forming on his brow. ‘You need not be afraid of him, you know. I think it must be me he wants. He believes I know something about him—and perhaps I do, if I could but think what it is.’

‘You have never met him?’ Georgie asked. She tipped her head to one side, considering as he shook his head. ‘Some might think him very handsome, but I do not. He is a fine figure of a man, but there is something… greasy about him. And he has a horrid way of looking at one.’

‘Yes, I think I know what you mean,’ Richard said. He had met characters he would describe as oily in the past and understood what she was trying to say. It was a slyness, a smoothness of manner that was too ingratiating to be believed, and an unpleasant feeling of being laughed at secretly. ‘Well, are you prepared for what comes next?’

‘Yes…at least I must be,’ Georgie said. She moved towards him, laying her hand on his arm. ‘You did mean it when you said I might call on you if I needed you?’

‘I never say what I do not mean,’ he told her with an encouraging smile. ‘Come, be brave, Georgie. You faced a shot that might have killed you and bolting horses with courage—what can be so terrifying about one elderly lady?’

‘Nothing, of course,’ Georgie said and gave him her hand, allowing him to help her into the carriage. She was puzzled when he closed the door. ‘You are coming with me?’

‘Naturally. I shall ride. My wound has almost healed and it does not pain me now; I think the exercise will do it good. That rogue who fired at us did me a favour, for when the wound split open the poison seeped out, and since then I have felt much better.’

‘I am glad,’ Georgie said. She watched from the window as he mounted his horse and set off a little ahead of the carriage, Henderson following to ride at his side. ‘So very glad.’

Her eyes felt moist as she sat back, clasping her hands in front of her. Her heart was beating very fast, but she raised her head, a gleam of pride in her eyes. She was determined not to be anxious. If her great-aunt refused to take her in she would simply…well, she did not quite know what she would do, but perhaps Richard would be able to suggest somewhere she might go.

Georgie relaxed as best she could for the next half an hour; then, seeing a village sign which proclaimed itself as Shrewsbury Morton, she sat forward and looked out at the view. They were passing through a pretty village with a fine church. It seemed something was going on at the church, for several carriages had arrived and people were getting out of them. Georgie saw that they were all wearing black and, hearing the mournful toll of a church bell, realised they must be attending a funeral. It was clear that whoever had died must be a person of importance, for the carriages belonged to good families, and the service was well attended.

Her driver had been obliged to halt the horses because of the traffic and she saw that Richard had also reined in and was talking to someone. She could see his face clearly and it was obvious that something was wrong. She shivered as he looked back at her, sensing bad news. He dismounted, gave the reins to Henderson and walked back to her, opening the door and climbing inside. His manner was thoughtful, sympathetic, as he reached forward to touch her hand.

‘I am afraid I have some bad news for you, Georgie,’ he said, a serious expression on his face. ‘There is a funeral today and…they tell me it is for the Countess of Shrewsbury. Apparently, she died of an illness that has plagued her for some months. It was not unexpected, but sudden at the end.’

‘Oh…’ Georgie stared at him. Her eyes pricked with tears. ‘How very sad. I had no idea she was ill. She wrote to me only occasionally, usually on my birthday or at Christmas, but she always sent a gift and her letters were kind.’

‘I asked who was attending the funeral and it appears that she has no immediate relatives. Her great-niece has been informed, but has not replied…that is you, Georgie. The letter must have gone to your uncle’s home after you left.’

Georgie looked at the church. ‘Do you think I should attend? Would it look strange if I went in wearing these clothes?’

‘Do you wish to?’ he asked. ‘You hardly knew her after all.’

‘She was my great-aunt. I suppose I may explain my lack of proper dress if anyone asks.’ She looked at him shyly. ‘Will you accompany me?’

‘Of course. She was my sister’s friend for many years.’ He frowned. ‘I dare say that means Amelia may be here.’ He nodded and gave her his hand. ‘Wear your pelisse, for it will cover most of your gown—but your hair should be covered.’

‘I’ll wear my cap,’ Georgie said and undid her valise. She set the brown cloth cap on the back of her head. ‘It may look odd, but will be better than showing disrespect in church.’

‘It looks…different,’ Richard said, a gleam in his eyes, because there was something very appealing though slightly shocking in seeing that masculine cap set on her luxuriant dark hair when she was wearing feminine apparel.

They joined the last stragglers, taking up places right at the back of the church. One or two turned their heads to look, but as she was not known to anyone local few thought it odd—except for the rather strange attire she wore. However, since she was seated at the back only a few noticed.

Georgie sat staring straight ahead. She felt close to tears, though she was not certain whether her emotion was for the death of an elderly lady she had never met, at least since she was a very small child, or her own situation. The shock of realising that all her hopes had vanished in a puff of smoke was one of the reasons she had asked to attend the church service. It would give her a little time to consider what she ought to do now.

Clearly, she could not expect to live at the countess’s home in the circumstances. It would probably be shut up with just a few staff to care for it until the new owner took it over. She had no idea who that person was, but suspected it might be a distant cousin of the late countess’s husband. Since she knew nothing of him, whoever he might be, she could certainly not throw herself on his mercy.

It was very awkward, Georgie realised. She must either beg Richard to help her again or return to her uncle—and that she was determined not to do! Perhaps he knew of a respectable widow who might help her to set up an establishment of her own?

She could think of no alternative and thrust the worry from her mind as she listened to the vicar praising the goodness of her great-aunt. Tears trickled down her cheeks, because she felt very much alone. She had hoped that her great-aunt would be pleased to see her and the disappointment was hard to bear.

After the ceremony was over, the congregation followed the coffin out to the graveside. Richard and Georgie stood well back, feeling that neither of them was properly dressed for such an affair. Georgie was about to turn away when Richard took her arm and steered her towards a small party of mourners, one of whom was a very pretty young woman of perhaps seven and twenty. She turned her head as they approached, a look of astonishment in her eyes.

‘Richard! How came you here?’ Her bright eyes took in his dress, which was not at all suited to the occasion. ‘I wrote, but was not sure you had my letter in time to make the journey.’

‘I did not have your letter at all,’ Richard said and went to kiss her cheek. ‘You look very well, Jenny.’ He smiled at the tall gentleman standing beside her. ‘Maddison, good to see you. I had no idea the countess had died. It makes things rather awkward, for I had escorted her great-niece to stay with her…’ He turned to Georgie, bringing her forward. ‘Georgie, this is my sister, Lady Maddison, and her husband, Lord Edward. Miss Georgina Bridges.’

Jenny looked startled and then remembered her manners, offering her hand. ‘My dear girl,’ she said with a warm smile that gathered Georgie to her like an embrace. ‘What a terrible shock for you—to arrive for a funeral when you had expected to be received by your aunt. It is strange that the countess did not tell me. She did speak of you once or twice, but I did not know that she had sent for you, though I had not seen her for a week or so.’

‘Oh…’ Georgie felt her cheeks flush. ‘I dare say it was not important.’

‘Well, what are you to do now?’ Jenny said, her blue eyes curious as she looked at Georgie. ‘I see you had no hat, though that cap rather suits you. You might set a fashion, at least if it were made in a different colour to match your toilette.’

‘May we throw ourselves on your hospitality?’ Richard asked. ‘Georgie is in some difficulty, which I shall explain to you later.’

‘Naturally you will stay with us,’ Jenny said at once. ‘How could it be otherwise? Shrewsbury House is closed up, though there are servants there to take care of it, but the lawyers have taken a room at the inn to entertain the countess’s neighbours. We had no intention of attending, but if you wish to make yourself known…’

‘Oh, no,’ Georgie said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘I would rather not. I am hardly dressed for it.’

‘No…’ Jenny threw a very odd look at her brother. ‘Shall you follow us to the house, Richard? I am not perfectly sure of your travelling arrangements.’

‘Georgie is travelling in a closed carriage,’ he told her, a gleam in his eyes. ‘I am riding—but have been travelling with her for some of the time. I was injured, you see.’

‘Good grief!’ Jenny looked shocked. ‘I begin to see why…but no matter. You shall tell me it all when we are home and comfortable.’ She tucked her arm into Georgie’s, giving her an encouraging look. ‘You may accompany me, my dear girl, and tell me everything. Edward, ride with Richard if you will, my dear.’

‘It may have escaped your memory, my dearest, but I came in the carriage with you. However, I shall ride on top with the coachman if you wish to be private with your new friend.’

There was a glimmer of mockery in his dark eyes, which Jenny seemed to accept without a flicker, her mouth curving in a smile of content, as if she were accustomed to having her way.

‘Yes, Edward, whatever,’ she said, dismissing his gallant offer as expected. ‘Come along, Georgie. I sense a mystery here, and you are going to tell me everything.’

Georgie heard the note of determination in her voice, and guessed that beneath her sweet manners and pretty smiles was a lady who knew how to get what she wanted. She quailed inwardly, for she sensed it would do her no good to lie, and she could only hope that Richard’s sister would not think her lost beyond all hope when she learned the truth.

‘Well.’ Jenny Maddison’s deep blue eyes lit with admiration as she heard Georgie’s tale through to the end. ‘I think you were exceptionally brave and did exactly as you ought—though it was a pity you did not come straight to Mary. She was a lovely lady, Georgie. It is a shame you did not know her better. I always wondered why you did not accept her invitation to stay last Christmas.’

‘Her invitation?’ Georgie stared at her, bewildered. ‘I did not receive an invitation last year—or ever to my knowledge.’

‘How can that be? I know she wrote to your uncle asking if he would send you to her. I believe he said that you were unwell and could not manage it at that time.’

‘I wasn’t ill,’ Georgie said, feeling a surge of indignation. ‘Oh, how could he tell such lies? He must have done it to make certain that I did not leave his house. Had I known my aunt wished to see me, I should have come at once. She did say that I would always be welcome in her letter to me, but I did not know she had asked for me. When I spoke to my aunt about the possibility of a visit, she told me that the countess was elderly and did not wish for visitors. I was not sure if she would take me in.’

‘I am sure she would have done so despite her health,’ Jenny told her. ‘Just a few days sooner and you might have seen her…’ She sighed. ‘Well, there is no point in crying over something that cannot be helped. The thing is, what are we to do about you now?’

‘I shall never return to my uncle’s house.’

‘No, of course not,’ Jenny said decisively. ‘That would be to play into his hands and cannot be thought of.’ Her cheek dimpled as she studied Georgie. ‘You know, you are very pretty—even beautiful if you were dressed in something suitable.’

Georgie blushed, but made no mention of the compliment in her reply. ‘I thought I might pay a respectable widow to bear me company once I have my inheritance.’

‘Well, you might, of course,’ Jenny said and gurgled with soft laughter. ‘On the other hand, you could be my guest. I have been a little down these past months, you see. I do not care for the winter and it took me a little time to get over the birth of my son so I have stayed at home for an age. However, Edward has promised to take me to Bath if I will take the waters.’ She pulled her soft mouth into a grimace of distaste. ‘I do not enjoy the prospect, but I shall enjoy being in company again. We shall take a house big enough for nurse and her assistant, besides Jemmy’s tutor and my maid, and Edward’s man, of course—and you, Georgie, my love. Richard too if he should care for it, though I dare say he will be off on some horrid business of his own before we know it. I have been nagging him for an age, you know. It is time he gave up all this dangerous stuff and settled down. He should think of providing me with a sister-in-law and a nephew or two, but he is stubborn and will not listen.’

Georgie looked at her in dawning delight. ‘Would you really let me live with you—visit Bath with you?’

‘I should like it above all things,’ Jenny told her in her engaging way. She clapped her hands, pleased with her solution, which, since it suited her, she imagined would please her family. ‘If you would like to be my friend, of course?’

‘Oh, it is exactly what I should like,’ Georgie said impulsively. ‘And so very kind. You do not know me. I might be a terrible person. Your brother thinks I am not always truthful since I lied to him at the start.’

‘Oh, brothers,’ Jenny said in a dismissive manner. ‘They are for ever on at one, telling one how to behave, at least until one marries.’ She looked thoughtful. ‘And after if they can get away with it. My dearest Edward will not allow anyone to bully me.’ A smile of content settled over her face. ‘He always wishes to please me and I know he will say it is just the thing to lift my spirits. You will want lots of clothes, I am sure, for even if we sent for your own things they would not do for Bath, you know. I have some things that you may borrow. I see that Richard has given you an old gown of mine that I left somewhere once. He might have bought you something new! It was very stingy of him!’

‘Oh, no,’ Georgie said, instinctively protecting him. ‘He has been very kind to me, Lady Maddison. You must not think otherwise. He fed me when I was hungry and then brought me all this way when I am sure he has other more important things to do.’

‘What could be more important than showing gallantry to a lady in distress?’ Jenny said. ‘I dare say he thought that gown would do—and it does look well enough for travelling. However, I shall find you something much better when we are home, and in Bath we shall commission only the finest of everything.’

‘I am not certain how much I am to inherit from my father,’ Georgie said a little uncertainly.

‘What can that signify?’ Jenny said, taking her breath away with her next words. ‘The countess was wealthy in her own right you know. The estate may go to a distant cousin of her husband, I dare say, for she said as much—but everything else is to come to you.’ Her eyes went over Georgie in a satisfied way. ‘You will be very rich, my dear—and, dressed as befits your consequence, you will take society by storm.’ She tapped a finger against her velvet muff, which hung from a chain made of moonstones and gold. ‘I am not sure whether it would not be better to open the house in London… that is where Richard found my gown, no doubt. He must have sent to the housekeeper, Mrs Maunders, for something.’

‘You must not go to so much trouble for my sake,’ Georgie said. ‘Your husband wishes you to take the waters for your health—besides, I suppose I ought to be in mourning for my aunt.’

‘Nonsense,’ Jenny said, determined not to see her plans squashed by convention. ‘You hardly knew her and she would not have wanted it. Mary would not have been pleased to see everyone wearing black today and never wore it herself, even when she was in mourning for her husband. I shall change into colours once we are home, and you must not think of going into black.’ Her eyes went over Georgie again. ‘You might wear a pearl grey for evening, and I think lilac would suit your colouring—also some blues. We can brush through it if we wish, and no one needs to know anything.’

‘But if I am the countess’s heir…’ Georgie was doubtful. ‘I should not wish to show disrespect.’

‘And you shall not,’ her determined hostess said. ‘Yes, you may wear grey and lilac and white, I think. We shall not attend anything too large or noisy—but we shall contrive to enjoy ourselves just the same.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Georgie said, feeling relieved that she need not wear black again so soon after wearing it for her parents. ‘Are we stopping?’ She looked out of the window at what was a large, but not huge, country house with long windows, bricks that looked the colour of musk roses and an impressive front porch. ‘What a lovely house.’

‘It is not as big as Richard’s,’ Jenny said. ‘But I like it better. Our home was always a little cold. If I were Richard, I should set the builders on to improve it, but he has been so busy that I dare say he has not had the time.’

Georgie had been so busy talking with her hostess that she had not noticed the gardens, but as the carriage door was opened she took the hand of an obliging groom, looking about her as he helped her down. The gardens were formal with smooth paths of bricks interspersed with neat beds of roses and flowers. As it was only late spring some of them were still in bud and had not yet bloomed, but she thought it would be a pretty place to walk in summer. To the side of the house she saw shrubbery and guessed that the gardens at the back would be less formal.

‘Do you ride?’ Jenny was asking as she took Georgie’s arm once more. ‘It is a must in the country, I think, for otherwise we should be confined to the house unless someone took us driving.’

‘Yes, I can ride,’ Georgie told her. ‘My aunt did not encourage it, but my father taught me when I was a child. I can drive, too—a gig with one pony, though I should like to drive a proper rig.’

‘I have never driven myself,’ Jenny told her. ‘My father thought I was too delicate and my husband thinks a puff of wind might break me—but he takes me driving as often as I want so I do not complain.’

‘We must ride together,’ Georgie said. She felt that she had known her companion for ever and was quite content to let her plan her future. She saw Richard giving her a quizzical look as she walked towards him. He and Lord Maddison stood by the front door, waiting for the ladies to come up with them. ‘I shall enjoy living here with you, Jenny.’

‘I dare say you will marry and leave me too soon,’ her hostess told her with a naughty look. ‘But we shall remain friends and you will visit me sometimes—will you not?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Georgie assured her and wondered at the satisfied gleam in her eyes. ‘But I am not sure I shall marry very soon. I would not want to be married for any money I might inherit. I am determined it shall be for love and nothing else.’

‘Well, I dare say you may fall in love,’ Jenny said and her fond gaze travelled to her brother, dwelling on him for a moment. He might not be as handsome as her beloved Edward, but he was a fine strong man and kind. She thought he would do very well for her new friend, and determined then and there to bring about a match between them if it could be managed.

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