Chapter Eleven
The most extraordinary things can happen at balls. Whether they be good or bad is entirely up to the parties involved. And whether or not those things have witnesses.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 2 April 1816
Being profoundly labeled a spinster by all who knew her didn’t preclude Georgie from deriving pleasure from certain things just as she had when she was first out.
Attending a ball was one such thing.
She’d always thrilled with the excitement of it, despite the fact that she rarely danced anymore, particularly at a ball as fine as one held by the Wrights. They were among the wealthiest, most influential members of Society, and all of London begged for an invitation to anything they hosted. The Wrights were adored by most, revered by some, and widely regarded as some of the friendliest, most delightful people that had ever graced high Society.
Georgie could only be grateful to be on such good terms with them as to always be assured of her own invitation.
The ball tonight did not disappoint.
The Wright’s ballroom, usually a very elegant room on its own merits, had been transformed into what had to be a glimpse of heaven itself. Candles dotted every chandelier and sconce, swaths of sheer fabric were elegantly draped along the walls, and dozens of flowers had been brought into the room, all of them pale shades and blossoming brilliantly. Charlotte had warned them that her mother had taken things to the extreme, but never had Georgie imagined anything so ethereal.
Mrs. Wright had outdone herself, that was certain.
Georgie release a breath she’d forgotten she held and had to smile.
“My sentiments exactly.”
She glanced over at Tony, who was escorting her as well as Izzy into the ballroom. They had just finished greeting the Wrights at the entrance, which had seemed superfluous, as they had just been at the theater together, but it was the custom, so they followed along.
“What?” Georgie asked him, curious as to what he thought she was feeling.
He looked down at her, his dark eyes warmer in the light of the candles, and his mouth curved on one side. “This room. These people. This night. It’s all rather breathtaking, isn’t it?”
“It’s perfectly magical,” Izzy exclaimed, almost dancing on the other side of Tony. “Oh, it’s just lovely! Have you ever seen anything so lovely?”
“No, I have not,” Tony replied.
But he had not been looking at the room, as Izzy had been.
He was still looking at Georgie.
Oh, lord…
Georgie swallowed hastily, looking around for any sort of distraction while her mind reeled at the implications. Something had come over him tonight, and she wasn’t sure what it was. He stared a great deal, and smiled even more, though not with the same teasing edge she had grown accustomed to. Oh, they had talked and laughed a great deal at the theater as she had imparted some of her best information concerning particular members of Society, and his responses had been just as sharp and witty as before.
But something was different. He was different.
And yet…
“Oh!” Izzy suddenly cried, blissfully unaware of everything going on beside her. “There is Grace! Oh, doesn’t she look marvelous? Tony, thank you for escorting me, but I am going to see her now.”
“Of course, Izzy. Save one of your dances for me, will you?” he asked, finally turning to her.
Georgie didn’t need to look to know her cousin would be beaming up at him for that.
“You could have your pick of the lot, Tony,” Izzy said with a giggle. “Just say the word, and the dance is yours.”
She departed then, and Georgie was left to be escorted by Tony alone, which, oddly enough, did not bother her in the least.
“What about you, Georgie?” Tony asked, his voice almost lost amidst the hum of voices around them and the musicians that had begun to play.
She waved at Prue, who looked much better tonight than she had at the last ball. Her mother had fallen ill, which everyone was quite relieved about, and Prue looked very pretty in a pale blue gown. She was such a tiny creature, and delicate in more ways than one, but the smile on her face this evening brought her to life in a charming way. She likely wouldn’t dance, but she would keep Lady Hetty company, and she did so love the music.
If only…
“Georgie.”
She jerked to look at Tony, who was giving her a too-polite smile. “Yes?”
“Will you dance this evening?” He raised a quick brow, and she wondered at the equally too-polite tone in his voice.
“If I am asked,” she replied slowly as she attempted to surreptitiously determine the cause of his behavior. But no one was looking at them, and they were not speaking loudly enough for those nearby to overhear. “I am a touch out of practice.”
“No one dances with you?”
Georgie shook her head, then inclined it with a warm smile as she caught sight of Lady Hetty, who winked boldly at her. “No, they fear what I will do to them.”
Tony chortled a little and seemed to straighten up. “I’m not afraid. I will dance with you.”
“My hero,” she muttered blandly. “Don’t put yourself out.”
“Trust me, Georgie,” he replied with more warmth than she anticipated. “Dancing with you would not put me out in the slightest. I rather think I will ask you.”
She glanced up at him with narrowed eyes. “Now?”
Tony returned her look, then let a slow smile spread across his face, which somehow stirred an equally warm sensation to slowly course through her. “Not now. When you least expect it.”
Georgie’s breath caught in her throat and she wrenched her gaze back to the safety of the mingling guests. It was too much. She was losing her mind and had somehow taken leave of her senses. She was not this silly sort of creature, always blushing and agitated. She could not be so fluttery when she was on the arm of the handsomest man in the entire room. Alone.
Her heart lurched quite forcefully at that thought.
Oh, that was enough, now! Tony was a friend of hers, and only recently so. He was a very good man, and an excellent companion, given his wit and intellect. He was not a man that ought to possess her thoughts so completely as he seemed to be doing, and she ought not to dwell on the current changes in him with such wonder. He was exhausted, that was all. She had given him an assignment and he had taken it up with great energy. He was undoubtedly unaware of the way his words sounded, or how his behavior could be portrayed.
There was absolutely no reason for him to be treating her in any respect other than that of a good friend.
That was all.
“Come, Georgie,” Tony said suddenly, his tone markedly brighter than it had been all night. “I want to introduce you to my cousin.”
Georgie’s heels began to dig into the ground as she whipped her head around to stare at him in horror. “What?”
He nodded quickly, smiling with all the excitement of a little boy. “He asked to be introduced to you this evening.”
“But… but…” she stammered, wondering why her feet were still moving when she expressly bade them to stop. “Why would he want to be introduced to me?”
Tony slid a sardonic glance her way. “Because he knows I know you.”
“Tony!” She huffed in irritation and tried to find her words, though her throat suddenly burned in distress. “That doesn’t mean a blasted thing! Loads of people know you know me, and they…”
“Aren’t relations of mine,” he finished easily, guiding her around a small group of people. “He knows that I have become acquainted with the Spinsters, and today when he asked about it, he also asked to be introduced to you.”
Georgie chewed on her lip with a distressed whimper. “Why?”
Tony stopped and looked at her closely, his brow furrowing. “Because we’re friends. Because I’ve been spending time with you. Because he’s a good man who prefers to make his own impressions of people. Because he’s my cousin, and what is important to me is important to him.”
She couldn’t bear to ask the question that was in the forefront of her mind and clamped down on her lips to keep it from escaping.
And I’m important to you?
She stared at Tony for a long moment, her heart pounding somehow harder still as she began to lose herself in the darkness that swirled there. Had he always been this handsome? Had his voice always rippled down her spine as it did now? Had his smile always turned her knees this way?
“Also, he may expect you to insult me or be quick-witted,” Tony said at last, the intensity of his look only slightly abating as he gave her a crooked smile, leading her forward once more. “I am sure he is destined to be disappointed there.”
Georgie swallowed and fought for control. “No more than he undoubtedly is attempting to banter with you.”
Tony laughed once and nodded. “That’s much better. I thought you would faint for a moment, and I have no idea what I would have done then.”
“You could have been heroic and carried me to safety,” Georgie pointed out, grateful that she was feeling more herself. “Think what that would have done for your reputation.”
He gave a mock shudder. “No, I thank you. Women might begin fainting all over the place just so I might save them.”
Georgie snorted once and looked around the room derisively. “I doubt it would get that far. It’s not that tempting a prospect.”
Tony made a face as if she had wounded him and shook his head slowly. “Not kind, Miss Allen. Not kind at all.”
She tilted her gaze up to him. “Still wish to introduce me to your cousin?”
He met her gaze without any hint of reserve. “Yes.”
Curses…
She forced her attention straight ahead and exhaled slowly. Surely it meant nothing. One made new acquaintances all the time, especially at events such as this. Why, she had introduced Tony to dozens of people in the recent weeks, purely to expand his social circles.
Lord Sterling was reportedly a good man, and a fine gentleman. His wife was more opinionated and certainly a beauty, but very well thought of. They had attended some of the same events, and she knew them by sight, but their paths had never crossed.
Now they would.
“Why does that bother you?” Tony murmured, as if he could read her thoughts.
“I never know what people think of me, or what they have heard,” she whispered through her teeth. “Not knowing which side they take bothers me.”
Tony covered her hand with his, then dropped it quickly as they approached more people. They were in public after all, and it would not do to be overly familiar here. “My cousin will be polite with you, and stern with me,” he told her quietly. “Just as you’d prefer. His wife, as I understand it, thinks highly of you and the girls, so you have no cause for concern there.”
“And you?” she replied almost briskly, her fingers tightening on his arm. “What do they think of you?”
He grunted softly. “I am a necessary evil.”
Georgie managed a smile. “I doubt that.”
“Which part?” Tony asked, sounding intrigued. “I’m not evil?”
Georgie shook her head, her smile turning into a smirk. “Necessary. Entertaining, perhaps, but not necessary.”
He hissed and craned his neck as if uncomfortable. “A bit harsh, Georgie, even for you.”
“Prove me wrong, Tony Sterling,” she taunted, smiling pleasantly as they approached his cousin. “Prove me wrong.”
“If you insist,” he muttered darkly. Then he brightened. “Francis, Janet, may I present Miss Georgiana Allen?”
Lord Sterling, not quite as handsome as his cousin but certainly handsome enough, smiled with surprising warmth. “Your servant, Miss Allen.” He bowed very politely, then indicated his wife. “My wife Janet, Lady Sterling.”
Georgie curtseyed, as did Lady Sterling, who was positively beaming as she came forward to take her hands. “My dear Miss Allen, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“From whom, my lady?” Georgie asked, unable to help smiling in return. “For that will determine your opinion of me. And if Tony is the one informing you, there is no telling what your thoughts and impressions will be.”
Lady Sterling threw her head back and laughed, while her husband grinned, flicking his eyes to Tony. “Oh, Miss Allen,” Lady Sterling said, once she’d recovered, “I liked you before Tony ever said a word, not that he said much to me, but now I positively adore you. Come and take tea with me this week, hmm? Bring whomever you’d like, or no one at all. I’ll send a coach for you.”
Georgie stared at the lovely woman in disbelief, sure there was some mistake, but smiling all the same. “I would be delighted, my lady, if you are quite certain.”
“She’s always certain, Miss Allen,” Lord Sterling assured her, still smiling himself. “She prides herself on it.”
“Pity about her marriage, then,” Tony offered with a heavy sigh.
Georgie widened her eyes at him meaningfully and jabbed him with her elbow hard.
Lady Sterling smirked a little at Tony. “Careful, Tony. You know how Francis can be.”
“Ahem,” Lord Sterling interrupted with a scolding look at each of them. “How Francis is, my dear. Come, Miss Allen, will you dance the next with me? My cousin is obviously giving you a poor impression of the Sterlings. Allow me to make amends.” He held out his hand and smiled in a very sincere apology.
Tony made a noise of playful outrage, but Georgie ignored him and put her hand into that of his cousin, returning his smile with one of her own. “I wish you would, my lord.”
As it happened, Georgie found herself growing enormously fond of Lord Sterling and his wife. Lord Sterling had the same sort of wit and humor as his cousin and expressed it in such a droll way that one could miss it if not paying close heed. He danced well and kept up a steady stream of conversation without plaguing her with unnecessary commentary. He’d instructed her to look delighted no matter what he said and to laugh on occasion so that Tony might have some fear and trepidation about their topics of conversation, and Georgie had played along.
Sure enough, the moment they had returned, Tony had demanded to know what they spoke of, and her aloofness made him even more agitated. The look on his face when he behaved so was particularly endearing, and he continued to give her consternated looks the rest of the evening, no matter where she was.
At the present, she was enjoying herself by watching the dance in the company of Lady Hetty, who always had the most delightful things to say about whatever she was witnessing. And as Jane Wilton was currently dancing with a particularly fine man in uniform that they did not know, the speculation from the older woman was utter perfection. Georgie laughed so much her sides began to ache, and she had difficulty containing that laugh in a ladylike fashion.
Tony, however, wasn’t watching the couple. He was dancing with Grace, who looked the picture of the goddess she was. He would make her laugh, then they would send speculative glances in Georgie’s direction.
When she could manage, Georgie would stare just as boldly back.
“What are the two of you playing at?” Lady Hetty suddenly asked from beside her.
Georgie turned to look at her in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
Lady Hetty had never looked so derisive in all the years Georgie had known her. “Come now, Georgie. I’ve seen the two of you together, and now I am seeing you stare at each other across the ballroom. There is a connection there.”
Heart suddenly pounding in her ears, Georgie tried to swallow and look completely baffled by this insinuation. “My lady, Captain Sterling and I are friends, and we have been for some weeks.”
“Friends don’t look at each other like that,” the older woman asserted bluntly, her wrinkled visage somehow turning more severe.
Georgie laughed a false, grating laugh. “Oh, no, Lady Hetty, I am teasing him. I danced with Lord Sterling, and Tony believes we spoke of him. He’s been trying to get the details out of me all night, and I am playing coy. There is nothing in it, I promise.”
Lady Hetty suddenly gave her a smug smirk. “Tony, is it? Well…” She returned her gaze to the dance, then made a noise of disapproval. “And there he is dancing with that charlatan.”
“Grace?” Georgie coughed and shook her head. “She is lovely, Lady Hetty. And one of the Spinsters.”
Lady Hetty shook her head. “I don’t trust a girl so fair and fine to be a spinster for the right reasons. Mark my words.”
Georgie bit back a groan and shook her head. “I’ll mark them,” she conceded dismissively.
There was absolutely nothing wrong with Grace, aside from the fact that she was a spinster and ought not to be. Lady Hetty could look for the remaining years of her life, but she wouldn’t find a single blemish on the person or character of Grace Morledge. It was one of the most irritating things about the girl.
It was the only irritating thing about her, actually.
The dance concluded to general applause and Prue suddenly nudged her from the other side. “Tony’s coming over,” she whispered. “Why is he looking at you so fiercely?”
Georgie almost groaned again. She couldn’t bear any more speculation, and certainly not from Prue. “I had an assignment for him,” she confessed as she fanned herself more quickly. “He’s been trying to find an opening for us to confer about it privately.”
“Well,” Prue muttered with a very small smile, “my very ill mother just came into the room wearing a vibrant shade of yellow, so your window of opportunity might be now.”
Georgie looked up and saw Mrs. Westfall parading around as if miraculously cured and drawing far too much attention to herself. The gown was both unsightly and unflattering, which would not necessarily correlate, but certainly did on her particular person.
“Prudence Westfall,” Georgie muttered, leaning close, “did you just suggest something unkind about your mother?”
Prue’s cheeks flushed brilliantly, but she smiled a little. “No. But you may infer it, if it helps.”
Georgie chuckled and covered Prue’s hands with her own. “It certainly does.” She looked up then as Tony arrived, Grace having been deposited somewhere else, apparently. “Captain.”
He bowed. “Miss Allen. I wonder if perhaps…”
“Yes,” she said with a prim nod. “Quickly, before the shock of Mrs. Westfall’s canary impersonation wears off.”
He choked out a laugh and gestured for her to lead the way.
Georgie threw a wink at Prue over her shoulder, then quickly moved through the people nearest them towards the gardens. She knew this house well, having spent much time here with Charlotte and the girls, and the gardens, while not as extensive as some others, were particularly well shielded from the windows of the ballroom.
It would have been an ideal setting for any sort of tryst, come to think of it, but most guests would have entered them from the main doors of the ballroom. Most of them did not know the passage that led to the servants’ door into the gardens, and that it was fairly easy to make one’s way there without witnesses.
One could only hope word of this particular architectural insight had not spread far.
The Spinsters would live up to everybody’s declarations if that were true.
But tonight, it served its purpose, and they made a clean escape from the ballroom without incident.
“That was some of the best strategic maneuvering I have seen outside of clandestine services,” Tony said with a quiet laugh as they moved further into the gardens. “Please tell me you sent Mrs. Westfall the dress just to be a distraction.”
Georgie shook her head, laughing herself. “I am not that clever, but I so wish I had. Such a flattering shade, don’t you think?”
“I do,” he agreed as he pushed a small tree branch out of the way. “I would have added more feathers, though. Much more birdlike.”
“With that nose? People would have expected her to burst into song, and trust me, that would not be pleasant.” Georgie threw him a knowing look that had him chuckling more.
They reached an opening in the garden, the lights of the ballroom only barely visible, though the upper windows of the house were clear.
Georgie frowned up at them. “We’ll have to hope there are no spies, or we will really be in for it.”
Tony looked up at them as well and shrugged. “We’ll tell them I’ve recruited you for covert operations and refer them to the Foreign Secretary.”
“Would that work?” she asked dubiously. “Do you know him?”
He shook his head and waved her onto the stone bench. “No, but it would take them several weeks to even get through to him, so we’d have sorted everything out by then anyway.”
Georgie snorted softly as she sat, shaking her head. “Well, Captain Sterling,” she sighed, lacing her fingers together in her lap, “what is everybody saying about the Spinsters?”
Tony seemed to hesitate, then his shoulders sagged, and he began to tell her.
She sat still for the entire telling, nothing particularly shocking or upsetting being revealed. The extremes were laughable, certainly, but not truly offensive. If any of them had been possible by a small group of women, it would have been a miraculous feat. And given such supposed extremes, it was clear that the general populace thought themselves far less moral than they actually were. The comments by mothers and fathers of girls who enjoyed their column stung somewhat, but she could hardly be blamed for the misguided actions based on interpretation.
Could she?
According to Tony, the very people crying for an end to the Spinster Chronicles were the ones who could quote particular passages, indicating that they were devoted readers of it. Would they find themselves regretting their retraction of the clever commentary on Society when it was gone? Or would they take pride in removing an annoyance from their presence, and consequently find that absolutely nothing had changed?
The gentlemen of London seemed to have the most complaints, which was strange as they, as spinsters, rarely interacted with them at all. She could not take any responsibility for the behavior of young women who spurned certain men, and the very few times they had actually done anything by force had been directed purely at the women involved. The one exception had been Tony seeing to Mr. Delaney, but she hadn’t heard anything on that score.
Tony watched her almost expectantly as he finished, but she only nodded as if it were nothing more than she expected. She suspected he had kept the details of the complaints from her to spare her, but she could imagine what they were. They would revisit her tonight as she lay in bed, and her mind would twist each until her doubts and guilt overwhelmed her.
Tears would be shed, breathing would grow painful, and she would vow to end it all and live quietly in the country forevermore. Then sense would return, fatigue would set in, and she would fall asleep while telling herself she would fix it all tomorrow. Waking the next day would be only a faint echo of the night before, and she would proceed as she had done for years without moving one way or the other until her good humor returned.
She knew the pattern well.
Georgie smiled up at him faintly. “Well then. What do they say about me?”
Tony blinked at her, brows furrowing. “Georgie…”
“I already know what they say about us collectively,” she told him a bit sharply as she tugged at one glove. “I want to know what they say about me.”
Clearly, he did not want to tell her, and she didn’t blame him for that. But she had to know, and if he could not tell her, who could?
“Please, Tony.” She tilted her head, softening her smile and her tone. “Please.”
He shook his head slowly, then exhaled. “Many people think you are choosing not to marry.”
Georgie blinked in confusion. “I’m what?”
His mouth formed a tight line as he nodded once. “Not marrying intentionally. To become the voice for spinsters and make yourself more influential. Rather like Charlotte, but without the fortune or romantic notions.”
“Am I?” Georgie spat, her fingers gripping each other tightly. “Well, when you find the line of men queuing up to ask for my hand that I am apparently so adept at refusing, kindly inform me so that I might live up to that assumption.”
Tony’s gaze on her remained steady. “Georgie…”
“What else?” she demanded. “Tell me more.”
“Georgie.” He sat on the bench beside her, shaking his head. “Georgie, it’s enough. You don’t have to hear it.”
She glared at him with all the venom she felt for the rest of them. “Tell me.”
He exhaled through his nose in irritation, a strange fire in his eyes now. “They say that you are a proud woman without redeeming qualities, a shrew in the making, and that the reason you remain unmarried, apart from the refusals, is because no man can get close to you without being verbally assaulted. You are too independent and too filled with your own self-importance. You have never needed anyone, so those who might have been brave enough to bear the vitriol saw no reason to try.”
Any breath in Georgie’s lungs seemed to simply vanish as she stared at him. There was no air to inhale or exhale, and hardly any to keep from swooning off the bench entirely. Her fingers seemed numb in her lap, yet she felt them shaking against her.
“What do you mean I never needed anyone?” she whispered. “How can anyone know I never needed anyone?”
Tony’s face softened, and he took one of her hands. “That’s only what I’ve been told.”
“Of course I needed someone,” Georgie insisted, her voice catching. “I could have used someone at any given time! But that doesn’t mean I was going to wallow about it. I had to get on with life, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” he replied, squeezing her hand hard. “And you have, Georgie.”
She could barely hear him over her own thoughts. “I don’t mean to be unpleasant,” she admitted roughly. “I didn’t mean to make anybody hate me.”
Tony shook his head and took her face in his hands. “Look at me, Georgie. Nobody hates you.”
The firmness in his tone made her eyes shift to his. “No?”
“No,” he repeated. “They just don’t understand.”
Georgie tried to nod and managed a weak swallow. “They might if they tried. As you do.” She inhaled a shaking breath, the feeling of his hands on her cheeks somehow both weakening and strengthening her. “Help me, will you, Tony? Help me not be so unlikable to them.”
He stared at her for a long moment, no sound or breath between them. And then his lips were on hers.
She couldn’t gasp, couldn’t move, could barely think her own name. His kiss consumed every thought and sensation, keeping her grounded yet making her soar. His mouth was soft and sweet, gentle in his caress, and far too soon, it was gone from hers.
Georgie blinked at him stupidly, watching him stare back at her, feeling her face flush. “You kissed me.”
“I did,” he murmured, keeping just as still as she was, his hands still on her face.
Georgie swallowed once. “Why?”
He wet his lips quickly. “It… seemed appropriate.”
That made her smile a little. “I thought it was a bit bold.”
There was a faint shake of his head. “It wasn’t.”
She tried to find some semblance of outrage, however weak. “You took a liberty.”
“Georgie…”
“Yes?”
“Don’t panic…” he murmured slowly, “but I’m going to kiss you again.”
A sigh of relief escaped her, and she nodded weakly.
This time she kissed him back.
She’d never kissed anyone before, and suddenly it was one of her chief regrets in life. But kissing anyone else couldn’t possibly be the same as kissing Tony. His attention was entirely focused on her, his lips caressing hers with an eager gentleness that stole her breath. She gripped at his coat with her fingers, afraid to do anything else, but desperate to cling to him somehow. She hadn’t even known she wanted him to kiss her until he had done so, and now she only wanted more.
More kisses. More caresses. More him.
More.
He broke off and chuckled softly, touching his brow to hers, one of his thumbs grazing her cheek. “Georgie…”
She reached up to grasp his wrist, smiling breathlessly. “Well…”
“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he confessed, brushing his nose against hers.
Georgie dipped her chin shyly. “I did too. I just didn’t know it.”
They shared a wild grin. Then Georgie’s eyes widened, and her heart dropped to her stomach. “We can’t tell anybody about this.”
Tony reared back, shaking his head almost violently. “Good heavens, no.” He made a quick face. “Not that I’m regretting it, because I’m really not…”
“Charlotte would be beside herself,” Georgie overrode, horror setting in.
Tony gaped for a moment. “Oh, that’s a terrifying thought…”
Georgie nodded quickly. “We need to get back inside. Now.”
They rose and hurried towards the house without speaking, though she was now painfully aware of his hold on her arm. Those fingers had cradled her face so tenderly, had stroked her skin in featherlight caresses, had held her…
“Georgie.”
“Hmm?”
Tony pulled her to a stop and kissed her a third time, this one quick and hard. Then he grinned at her without reserve. “I just needed to get one more in.”
Georgie looked up at him in disbelief, then laughed at them both. “Oh, we’re in trouble. What am I going to tell them? They know we we’re out here.”
“I’ve got something,” he said, holding out his arm. “It will distract everyone sufficiently and happens to be true.”
“Tell me.”
“There’s a young woman I need you all to see. A replacement for Emma, if you will. She’s a widow just recently come to London…”