An Elegant Façade (Hawthorne House Book #2) (22 page)

Colin rolled his eyes. “From whom, then.”

“Lady Jane.”

“The woman we resc—” Colin snapped his teeth shut and swallowed. They didn’t need to go through the trouble of saving the girl only to start rumors about the event. “The young lady Lord Howard was calling on recently?”

“The very one. She has, shall we say, decided to direct her attentions elsewhere after recent events.”

Colin laughed. The disgruntled look on Trent’s face was too funny not to. He couldn’t quite find it in his heart to feel sorry for the beleaguered man.

Trent nudged Colin in the shoulder. “I’m serious.”

“What would you have me do? Your rescuing her could be seen as rather romantic.”

“You were there too.” Trent frowned.

“I’m afraid I am not aristocratic, secluded, or destitute, and we all know a romantic hero must possess one of those qualities.”

Trent’s eyes widened in new desperation. “Come up with something to distract her from me. Anything will do, really.”

Colin looked around the room, wondering what could possibly divert a woman’s attention from a man she now viewed as her reputation’s savior. His eyes lit on the slightly rounded figure of Lord Howard on the other side of the drawing room. “I believe your distraction has arrived.”

“So help me, if she runs off with that lout again, I’ll let her be ruined.”

Colin was inclined to agree. But he was more worried that Lord Howard would confront Lady Jane and she would give up the names of those who had helped her escape. What would Lord Howard do with that information? Colin didn’t have any direct association with the man, but the cad had a title and could certainly make life rough if he chose to. All it would take was a well-placed comment or two.

“You should ask her to dance.”

Trent glared at Colin. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m trying to avoid her, not encourage her.”

“She’ll move on to someone else by the end of the week. What’s important now is that Lord Howard thinks her out of his reach and in the company of people who make it worth his while to leave it alone.”

A laugh to Colin’s left grated across his skin even as he appreciated the perfect cadence and melody of the sound. Did she practice that too? Ashcombe wasn’t a funny man, so he couldn’t have said anything worth truly laughing about.

“I suppose you’re right.” Trent rubbed a hand over his face, and Colin had to think back to what they’d been talking about a few moments ago.

He had to get out of here before he did something stupid. Colin clapped Trent on the shoulder. “Get to it, my man. I’m heading home.”

Trent’s eyebrows rose. “But we’ve only been here twenty minutes.”

“I remembered some urgent business I left undone when we left town last night.” That wasn’t completely untrue. He’d left things unfinished on his desk, but all of it had been taken care of this afternoon.

Without waiting for Trent to acknowledge his statement, Colin headed out the door, bypassing saying good-bye to the hosts, who hadn’t actually wanted him there in the first place.

When he got home, he went to his study even though he had nothing else to do there this evening. The letter from Alastair Finley still sat on the corner of the desk, right next to the one from his father. He’d left them there, too sentimental to toss them in the fire, yet unable to bring himself to actually answer either one.

His fingers danced over the request from Alastair. With his instincts screaming at him to put the paper down and not get pulled into the feud once more, Colin opened the paper and read the offer again. It was still there, the request for an office manager, Alastair’s concerns over not having a suitable heir, his not-so-subtle hints about Erika’s availability. The old seaman was offering a way home, a new life, even a little bit of revenge on Colin’s father. For the first time, Colin saw a bit of appeal in all three things.

“This is different.” Harriette edged a bit closer to Georgina. The maid was still pale with pain, but her limp was barely noticeable. Georgina had tried to convince her to stay home another day and rest, but Harriette wouldn’t hear of it. She felt bad enough for not being able to help during the entire Jane debacle.

“We’re still in Mayfair.” Barely. Georgina hoped she had infused that sentence with a bit more confidence than she felt. The coffeehouse, busy but not overly crowded, was in a respectable part of town, but not one Georgina frequented.

Georgina led Harriette to a table in the back. She’d selected this shop because it was nowhere near St. James’s or Bond Street, where her friends and acquaintances were likely to gather. A quick glance around the shop revealed a few curious stares but no familiar faces. Even her simplest dress was drawing notice among the clientele filling the establishment.

“Why couldn’t we have gone to our usual shop?” Harriette sat next to Georgina, looking around as if she expected to find the customers had turned from gentry, barristers, and the occasional shop owner into hardened sailors, ruffians, and dangerous scar-faced thugs.

“Because we’re meeting Lavinia.” Georgina had ignored Lavinia’s presence in Town as long as she dared. It felt wrong to
not acknowledge their friendship, but at the same time Georgina couldn’t risk marring her own reputation with Lavinia’s.

Colin’s voice had chided her for hours after she’d sent Lavinia an invite to meet her here at this out-of-the-way coffeehouse, but Georgina couldn’t do anything else. Lavinia was a fine companion in the country, where everyone in the area knew her and had grown accustomed to her stilted speaking. She wasn’t the most popular girl in the village. No one scorned her, as evidenced by the marriage offer from Mr. Dixon, but at the same time, even there, she wasn’t always welcomed with warmth.

Lavinia looked as if she belonged with the crowd as she entered the shop, her light brown ringlets framing an easy smile. She rushed across the room, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners when she reached Georgina’s table.

“Good t-to see you!” Lavinia reached across the table and clasped Georgina’s hand.

Georgina glanced around. Lavinia was alone. “Where is your maid?”

“Mother is shopping. She’ll walk home with me.”

They ordered coffee, and the conversation was stilted for the first few moments, but it didn’t take long before the two fell into their normal pattern, sharing stories and telling jokes. Eventually Georgina didn’t even hear Lavinia’s stutters anymore.

A curl of jealousy hit Georgina in the heart. She’d never been jealous of Lavinia before. Pitied her, yes, since the other girl was unable or unwilling to hide her affliction, but never jealousy. Yet here Lavinia was, talking about her plans and opportunities in London seemingly without concern of what would happen when people heard her speak.

“Aren’t you worried? Even just a little bit?” Georgina asked after Lavinia had laid out her hopes that someone more suitable than Mr. Dixon would come into her life during her six weeks in London. As much as she tried, Georgina couldn’t shake the thought that Miranda might have been right about Lavinia’s poor prospects.

Lavinia gazed out the window over the other patrons’ heads. “D-did you know that Moses didn’t speak well?”

Moses? Was Georgina supposed to know someone named Moses? “Oh?”

With a nod, Lavinia sat forward in her chair, leaning over the table as if she were about to gift Georgina with the most amazing piece of gossip.

Georgina couldn’t help leaning in herself. Even Harriette, who had set her chair back from the table and busied herself with a bit of knitting, tilted her head to hear better.

“Moses couldn’t speak well, and God used him anyway. I understand he’s responsible for the first five books of the B-Bible.”

Georgina hated the man already. He’d started that book her family seemed to obsess over. “What has that to do with anything?”

“Well, the way I see it, if a man of G-god has the same affliction I d-do, then I d-don’t think G-god wants me to worry about it.”

Georgina wasn’t sure that was how it worked, but if it gave Lavinia the confidence to move about London, she wasn’t going to argue. It wasn’t fair that God gifted some people with whatever they needed to feel good about themselves. Of course He frequently seemed to give out gifts through that book of His, which meant He didn’t have anything for Georgina or He’d have made it so she could read it.

No matter what they said in church on Sunday, it was obvious to Georgina that she wasn’t one of His special children. She’d done something so wrong as a child that God had blocked her out of the family when she was still learning to walk.

“I wish you the best of luck.” Georgina squeezed Lavinia’s hand, knowing it was the truth. “I don’t know when we’ll be able to meet again. Mother has my schedule sewn up for the next several weeks.” And that was a lie.

“I’m happy we were able to meet t-today. My aunt secured a few exciting invitations, so p-perhaps we will meet again while I am here.” Lavinia’s eyes relayed the understatement she was making. If her wide-eyed anticipation was anything to go by, her
aunt had been invited to an event or two well above their normal circle of acquaintances.

That made Georgina a bit nervous. They were bound to be large parties, though, or even balls, so it shouldn’t be too difficult for Georgina to convincingly avoid Lavinia at those events. “I’ll keep an eye open for you.”

Guilt turned the coffee she’d drunk into a toxic sludge in her midsection. She would keep watch for Lavinia, though not for the reason the other girl probably thought. Georgina would look for Lavinia because Miranda was right. Even the server walking by their table had looked askance at Lavinia as she stumbled over her words. Imagine what the
ton
was going to do to her.

When Lavinia’s mother joined them, Georgina kept the conversation as brief as possible before making her good-byes.

In deference to Harriette’s ankle, Georgina hired a hack to take them back to their normal section of Mayfair. The silence was thick as they watched the town homes grow taller and nicer.

“I’ve nothing to feel guilty about.”

Harriette’s tilted her head in confusion. “My lady?”

Georgina shifted in her seat. This hack could certainly do with some fresh cushions on the seat. “There’s country life and Town life. A girl shouldn’t have to live both of them in the same set of streets.”

Harriette said nothing, and Georgina avoided looking in her direction. Colin’s voice was already berating her. She didn’t need Harriette’s sad eyes joining the party.

“Did I see you speaking with Miss Clemens in a coffeehouse yesterday?”

Georgina startled at Ashcombe’s statement. It was the first words he’d said since picking her up for a drive nearly ten minutes ago. She’d been sitting next to him, letting her mind wander as it did so often for the past two days. Two days in which she hadn’t seen Colin McCrae at all, though he’d seen fit to pop into her mind at the most inopportune moments.

“Lady Georgina?” Ashcombe prodded.

What had he asked about? Oh yes, coffee with Lavinia. How had he known about that? “I did have coffee with Miss Clemens. She and I know each other from the country.”

Ashcombe’s mouth pressed into a thin line as he nodded. “You’ll not be seen with her again.”

Georgina’s eyes widened. Not even Griffith had been so demanding as to refuse to allow her to spend company with a person. It didn’t matter that Georgina had come to a similar conclusion herself. For Ashcombe to dictate such a thing when they hadn’t even spoken of marriage was absurdly high-handed. “I beg your pardon.”

The smile that twisted his lips didn’t curl in any natural way—it gave off a sinister feeling instead. He should practice it in a mirror. “We both know I don’t take many ladies out for a drive. If I’m to associate myself with you, I require you to maintain a certain image. Image is key to a man’s success, you know, and his wife’s behavior reflects on him even more than it reflects on her.”

She was torn between giddiness that he’d referred to her as his potential wife and anger over the presumption that his reputation mattered more than hers.

Isn’t that why you’re seeking a man of high regard? So that his reputation can save yours
from future damage?

Georgina formed the mental image of a tiny Colin McCrae tumbling over the side of a cliff. How did Lord Ashcombe even know who Lavinia was? Georgina was depending on no one recognizing her even if they happened to see Georgina with her. “What is wrong with Lavinia Clemens? Her father owns a successful set of lumber mills.”

Ashcombe nodded. “Yes, I know. Clemens is a good man. Such a shame he had a stupid daughter. I do wonder at his judgment in sending her to London.”

Her jaw dropped open for a moment before she recalled how inelegant surprise looked. Had he called Lavinia stupid? “Lavinia is brilliant.”

“I can see where you would think so. She dresses quite smartly and paints a pretty picture from across the room, but she reveals her true intelligence whenever she speaks a sentence over four words. You must have noticed. While it is kind of you to overlook it, I must ask that you confine your works of charity to more obvious and helpful causes.”

Her works of charity? Georgina sat back against the curricle seat. Did she consider Lavinia charity work? It was possible. In the country she considered the other girl a friend, but she had walked halfway across town to meet her somewhere she thought none of her other friends would be about. Apparently Lord Ashcombe had been.

That sounded considerably more selfish than any charity work would be.

“Has your brother spoken of any plans he has for going to Gloucester any time soon?”

The change of subject caught Georgina off guard. “My brother?”

“Riverton. Has he plans to travel to Gloucester?”

When had they stopped talking about Lavinia? Ashcombe made a declaration and that was the end of the discussion? Why would he discount her opinion? Why just assume she would abide by his wishes when they had no formal or even informal agreement between them? What would he say about her own failing if he felt so strongly about her distancing herself from Lavinia’s? Georgina’s head spun from the abundance of questions. “N-no. I haven’t heard of any plans.”

“Hmmm. Do keep me informed if you hear otherwise. I have holdings of my own in Gloucester I should like to discuss with him if he makes the trip.” Ashcombe turned the horses around.

Georgina was surprised to feel relief that they were on the back end of their journey together. He’d made yet another declaration. How much worse would it get if they got married?

And when had she started thinking in terms of
if
?

“Good evening, Colin.”

Colin nearly dropped his drink. When Trent had issued the
invitation to an informal dinner, Colin never dreamed Georgina would be in attendance. Trent was living in bachelor lodgings after all, not exactly the place one expected to find unmarried young ladies, even if they were related.

He’d been doing his best to avoid this particular young lady and having great success at it, though it meant he was having to work considerably harder at his club to keep up with the latest gossip and happenings.

Wishing he’d seen her before she’d noticed him, he gave her his attention and immediately felt like he’d been without drink for days. Her dinner dress was the simplest gown he’d ever seen her wear, the clean white silk decorated only with a garden of embroidered white flowers across the bodice and hem. The short puffed sleeves were nearly transparent and only a single perfect curl draped down from the hair piled atop her head. It was obvious her beauty didn’t come from embellishments.

He took a quick swallow of drink before responding. “Good evening, Lady Georgina.”

She arched her eyebrow. “I thought we’d dispensed of this lady nonsense.”

Colin’s eyes narrowed as he took another slow sip of his drink. What was she after? “I don’t think Lord Ashcombe would take kindly to the familiarity.”

Georgina pointedly looked about the room. “Ashcombe isn’t here, is he?”