Chapter Twenty-One
A little bit of mischief can go a very long way…
-The Spinster Chronicles, 10 June 1817
“I still don’t know why you pressured me to come. I’m not feeling quite up to it.”
“Because you love balls, and you know how much Anna loves having us attend her family’s events.”
“If your sister-in-law thinks that we will ever forget that her brother trod both our toes so badly we bruised at the ball four years ago, she is sadly mistaken.”
Izzy giggled and looked around at the grand ballroom at Maxwell house with all the eagerness of a seventeen-year-old. “But I do love this room, Georgie! It is the best and brightest in all of London!”
Georgie eyed her cousin fondly. “Only because you are practically glowing, Izzy. You look positively lovely.”
She was not exaggerating, either. Izzy wore a white muslin that gave her an air of innocence yet suited her so well that the look was more elegant than anything else. Her ribbons and earrings matched, but around her neck she wore only a simple gold chain, and that seemed the most perfect accouterment for her appearance.
It was a testament to Izzy’s perfect nature that she was once again so warm and familiar with Georgie after her outburst. Upon her return the other day, Izzy had only wrapped her in warm blankets and sat with her by the fire, sipping hot tea until they were both warm and sleepy, giggling like they had as children. Forgiveness came far too easily for her cousin, and she was never more grateful for it than now.
And truth be told, she did rather want to be here. Not to be eyed with speculation when she and Tony avoided each other, provided he would be in attendance, but to be out among people and behaving with as much normalcy as she could manage. She frequently attended the balls that were held at various houses in London. She was one of the regulars who could be counted on, even if she rarely danced.
The slow progression into her typical activities and behavior had been good for her, and after her conversation with Miranda in the carriage the other day, she had been determined to pick up the pieces of her life and move forward.
The Spinsters had been surprisingly silent on the topic, but she could only presume that Izzy had warned them off, and for once they had heeded it.
Georgie looked around now, sighing to herself. This would be good for her. She could manage it.
Izzy rubbed her hand, then walked with her over to the corner where Lady Hetty was sitting.
This could be dangerous on far too many levels.
“That’s a very pretty gown, Georgiana,” Lady Hetty said with a fond smile at her. “It’s almost pink, isn’t it?”
Georgie smiled and looked down at the dress, a very pale rose-color overlaying cream underskirts and trimmed with gold. “Yes, ma’am, it is. Izzy persuaded me to have small flowers in my hair to match it.” She turned to show her the hair accessories, dotted among her pinned braids.
“Isabella has such fine taste,” Lady Hetty praised, reaching a hand out for Izzy. She beamed up at her, then looked at Georgie with equal warmth. “I hope you will dance tonight, Georgiana. A pretty girl like you must dance, indeed you must. Don’t sit over here with an old woman.”
“Perhaps I like sitting with old women,” Georgie suggested with a tilt of her chin. “I am near to one myself.”
Lady Hetty scoffed loudly. “Pish tosh. You are as young as spring tonight. I will see you dance.” She thumped her walking stick loudly. “Greensley!”
Mr. Greensley, who was just passing, stopped and bowed to Lady Hetty swiftly, looking resigned, but already amused. “Lady Hetty, you look rather charming this evening.”
“I look old and feeble, and this shade is not my color,” Lady Hetty retorted. “But at my age, I no longer care. Dance with Miss Allen, Greensley. Give her the next two.”
“Lady Hetty!” Georgie protested, her cheeks flushing hotly.
Izzy, however, looked highly amused.
Greensley nodded, too much a gentleman to refuse, and turned to Georgie. “Miss Allen, may I have the pleasure?”
She restrained the urge to sputter in irritation and placed her hand in his. “Of course, Mr. Greensley.” She speared Lady Hetty with a scowl as he led her to the floor.
“Come now, Miss Allen,” Greensley teased as they took their positions. “Surely you can dance with me. I’ve known you since we were six.”
Georgie gave him a look as the music struck up. “Yes, and your dancing has not improved since the last time it was permissible for me to call you Everett.”
He chuckled and bowed to her. “You’ve not danced with me since then, Miss Allen. I think you will find I am much improved.”
“We shall see,” she replied with a curtsey.
Truth be told, it was rather nice to dance with him. Mr. Greensley had always been a good neighbor and friend, though their friendship had lapsed somewhat in their adult years. Theirs was a family connection, not one necessarily of their own making, but he could always be counted on if she had need.
He’d never said anything against the Spinsters, but he also had never given her any reason to suppose that he supported them. It did not make much difference, she supposed, as he was destined to be supportive of her specifically no matter the situation. She could not imagine that everybody would look on the Spinsters with the same understanding that Tony had done.
If Tony had done.
Despite what she had seen and felt, she could not know for certain that the man she knew him to be was the man he truly was.
It was destined to make a marvelous column in the Spinster Chronicles once she had the clarity and distance to adequately describe it. There was much to learn from such an experience, and several other girls deserved to benefit from it. There were lessons to share now, though she would keep the details to herself, and if she could find a way to use her personal tragedy as an example, perhaps it would not have been for nothing after all.
It hadn’t been for nothing at all.
She had learned firsthand the feelings of love, of loss, and betrayal. The vulnerability she had allowed herself, the trust that had been broken, the never-ending doubts that had surfaced and swirled since it ended…
Georgie hardly recognized herself, though she was much the same in many ways. But she was better now than she had been days ago, and while her heart was still feeling tender and fragile, her defenses were beginning to rally.
And here she was dancing, managing to smile, and recalling the thrill of such an act.
Greensley was a much better dancer than she had feared, which made everything more enjoyable, and nobody would presume anything by their dance, as Greensley tended to dance with a great many young women without any serious pursuit. It was probably the greatest kindness he had ever done her, though he probably had no notion of it.
She passed Greensley in the dance, her heart lighter with each step and turned to circle about with the other ladies.
Then she saw him.
Tony.
He hadn’t seen her, he was talking with Henshaw and Morton, who were dressed in their uniforms, but he was here.
He was there.
He wasn’t in uniform. Had he decided not to go back into the army, then? Had he simply not had the opportunity yet? He looked well. He looked very, very well, and her arms suddenly ached to hold him. Her feet continued in the dance, and the rest of her followed, but her attention was fixed on him now.
It had to be.
The first dance ended, and there was some applause from the dancers and those watching.
Tony applauded absently, then looked out at the dancers.
At her.
Georgie’s breath caught in her chest, a flash of agony slicing across her heart. Those eyes had stared at her so many times with heat, with love, with adoration, and even with mischief.
Now there was only pain.
The dancers changed positions, some new ones joining while others departed. Greensley took her hand and moved her to another place on the floor, but Georgie couldn’t pay attention to any of that.
Not now.
The music struck up, and Tony turned away, speaking with Henshaw again.
That was it, then. There was nothing to expect from him, nothing to mend, nothing to prove.
He hadn’t loved her as much as she’d believed.
If he had, surely he wouldn’t… He couldn’t…
Why the pain, then?
Well, perhaps he was gentleman enough to regret wounding her, but it could not be more than that, she was sure. She regretted giving so much of herself that she was left wounded. Regrets were not useful to either of them. It was time to let it go, put it all behind her, and move forward with her life.
She nodded to herself and forced a smile as she danced the next with Greensley, trying in vain to take as much pleasure from it as she had the first one.
When it was finished, he returned her to Lady Hetty, who had now been joined by Prue and Elinor, though none of the others. Prue looked almost as pale as Georgie had been, but that was undoubtedly due to her cousin, who had already proven snide and vindictive. She smiled rarely but was bravely making an effort.
If Prue could withstand her difficulties, so could Georgie.
Elinor stood behind Prue with a glower, no doubt looking for Eliza or any other person so willing to abuse one of their own.
Georgie looked around the room with a frown, wondering where Izzy had gone. She was not dancing, and she could not find her amidst those watching. Charlotte had her usual collection of admirers, though it seemed somewhat diminished, for whatever reason. Grace was also conspicuously absent, though she was sure she had seen her enter.
She situated herself beside Prue, not feeling particularly inclined to seek out either of them. She was not their nanny, and they certainly did not need to stay together. But it was though they were all refusing to dance on a principle. She rather hoped that they would choose to dance instead. Why should any of them refuse to dance simply because nothing would come of it? They had every right to life’s enjoyment exactly as they were, and she would see to it.
The Spinsters would continue on exactly as they had been, only she would find a way to make them more relatable, more likable, and more of a welcome sight. There was nothing shameful in being a spinster, with or without a capital S, and she was determined that everyone should know it.
It might not have been a favorable outcome of life, but there were many worse situations to be in.
“You’ve decided something,” Prue murmured, watching her. “You look very determined.”
“I have,” Georgie informed her. “A determination to make the best of my situation, whatever it is.”
“That’s very brave.” Prue smiled weakly. “When you have done that, share your wisdom with me, won’t you? I’ve never been determined about anything.”
Georgie made a sympathetic noise and covered Prue’s hands with hers. “Sweet lamb, you are determined to be here, are you not? Despite all the adversities?”
Prue looked unconvinced but nodded. “That and Mother forbade me to stay at home.”
Georgie winked at her. “We’ll just pretend you made the decision on your own.”
That made Prue smile more naturally. “If you insist.”
“I do,” Georgie assured her. “In fact…”
“Georgie!”
They both turned to see Grace and Izzy rushing over to them, taking care not to draw too much attention to themselves. Both girls appeared strained, if not outright agitated, and Georgie’s senses suddenly seemed to heighten.
“What is it?” Georgie hissed, rising as they approached.
Grace shook her head quickly, her dark eyes wide. “Jane Wilton can’t find Lucy.”
Georgie’s heart sunk. She looked at Izzy for confirmation.
Izzy nodded frantically. “She says Lucy has been secretive for days and refuses to talk to any of them. And nobody has seen Simon Delaney since the first set.” Izzy bit down on her lip, wringing her hands together.
Georgie looked between them, her mind whirling. “Any idea where they might have gone? Does Anna know any ways out of the ballroom that might be easier for them?”
Izzy shook her head. “No, I’ve asked her, and she says they would have been seen if they’d gone through the house. The terrace and gardens are the only way.” Izzy shook with anxiety. “Georgie! She’s only fifteen!”
“All right,” Georgie said, thinking quickly. “Izzy, we’ll go to the terrace. Grace, fetch Jane Wilton, but tell Charlotte to keep up appearances so there is less likely to be a fuss. Prue and Elinor will stay here with Lady Hetty.”
“What’s going on?” Lady Hetty asked, leaning forward.
“Nothing,” replied at least four of them, which made her harrumph in disgruntlement.
Georgie nodded firmly, heart racing, but her mind made up. “Right, maintain discretion, but make haste. Let’s go.”
Overall, this wasn’t as terrible as he’d thought a ball at the Maxwell’s would be. He hadn’t been sure of his attendance, as the eldest Maxwell daughter had married Izzy’s brother, but Francis had assured him that the families were not that close, and there should be no awkwardness on that quarter.
And there hadn’t been.
But there had been Georgie.
He couldn’t stop watching her, whether she was dancing or sitting, talking or laughing. His attention was continually being brought back to her.
It was too much, seeing her and knowing he had lost her.
But he had to endure it. He could hardly avoid her forever in London, and time would eventually cause the pain to fade.
Or so he told himself.
“Of what do you currently disapprove, Captain?” Henshaw asked from beside him. “The dance or the fashion?”
Tony looked over at him with a raised brow. “Pardon?”
Henshaw returned his look with one of his own. “You’re glowering at a ball, Sterling. Hardly appropriate. Would the card room be more to your taste this evening?”
Tony shook his head, turning back. “Hardly. I’m in no mood to gamble, and have nothing to gamble with even if I did.”
“Tony!”
He looked to his right to see Francis heading towards him, brow furrowed, making his way almost roughly through the closest guests in his efforts to get to Tony. A few people scowled, but nobody seemed to mark him.
Tony looked at Henshaw, who shrugged, but watched with interest.
“Francis,” Tony greeted suspiciously when his cousin had reached him. “Is Janet in a right temper again?”
Francis did not smile. “The youngest Wilton girl is missing, and so is that Delaney fellow. Janet’s just been talking with one of the sisters, and they’re beginning to worry.”
Tony bit back a curse and looked around the room. “Are you sure? Are they sure?”
Francis gave him a bewildered look. “How sure do you want them to be at this moment?”
It was a fair point and Tony bobbed his head in acknowledgement. “Where would they go? Are there any other ways out of here?”
“No,” Francis told him firmly, all business. “Maxwell says just the gardens, if they wanted to be secretive.”
Tony nodded. “Henshaw, with me. Morton, check the gaming tables for Delaney, just as a precaution.”
He did not wait to see if Morton would do as he ordered, but turned towards the terrace, Henshaw and Francis on his heels.
He’d warned Delaney what would happen if he tried anything, and he’d been quite sure that the Wiltons had given strict instructions to their youngest daughter. If those two had been foolish enough to try something again, especially with Lucy now having some idea of what could transpire, then perhaps they deserved each other. But he could not face the Wiltons knowing he could have done something to help.
If there was anything left to help. It was entirely possible that it was already too late, and he would have just been another member of Society who knew too much, now bound to keep a secret for the sake of sparing the family’s reputation. It would never recover fully, but perhaps there was still a chance the older two girls might manage sensible marriages, though not nearly to the heights they might have done otherwise.
The terrace was suddenly before him and he pushed the doors open, scouring the gardens beyond.
All looked dark, despite the occasional torches set along the stone path, but he couldn’t hear any footsteps, hurried or otherwise.
“Francis,” Tony barked, whirling to face his cousin.
But he never got that far.
On the other side of the terrace, bent over the rail and now slowly straightening, eyes trained on him, was Georgie.
“Izzy,” he heard her whisper, but Izzy only stood there, watching Tony with surprisingly steady eyes.
Tony swallowed once. “Francis,” he said again.
“We knew the only way to get you fools together was if someone was in trouble,” Francis replied, his tone perfectly at ease now. “Miss Lambert’s maid was kind enough to relay the nature of your argument when pressed, and we’re all agreed that this should be simple enough to clear up.”
Georgie turned to Izzy, her expression full of betrayal, but Izzy had already moved towards Francis, smiling smugly.
“So,” Francis went on, nodding at Izzy, “we will return to the ball and take Henshaw here, and the two of you will kindly reconcile, or at the very least refrain from killing each other.”
“And Lucy Wilton?” Georgie pressed, her brow furrowing. “Is she all right?”
“Oh, she’s perfectly fine,” Izzy said with a laugh. “She’s still confined to their house until she’s learned how to behave appropriately in society, Jane’s just told me.”
“And before you can ask,” Francis continued as Tony opened his mouth, “Delaney is in the gaming room. You can check with Morton when he returns, he will undoubtedly see him there.”
Francis bowed, Izzy curtsied, and Henshaw looked utterly lost, but chuckled as they all turned for the house once more.
Tony cleared his throat quickly. “I thought you said there would be no grand gestures from you for the Spinsters, Francis.”
Francis turned back, raising a brow. “If you think I could face my wife after doing nothing under these circumstances, you are grossly mistaken. I would have done exactly as I did, had the situation been real.” He gave him a wry smile. “But in this case, cousin, it was not for the Spinsters at all, but for you. And every now and again, I may find myself accomplice in a grand gesture for that purpose.”
He and the others left them then, leaving the door open, the music of the ball mingling with the night air.
Tony looked back at Georgie, who gripped the terrace railing behind her, staring at him as though he might disappear.
She was a vision tonight, somehow lovelier out here in the starlight than she had been only moments ago. Her gown was the color of a blush, and it only heightened her own healthy glow, the gold details somehow drawing out a similar shade in her tresses. She was perfectly adorned, perfectly situated, and perfectly pleasing to look upon.
Perfection in every respect.
Her slender throat worked on a swallow. “You… you thought Lucy was in trouble again. And you came to save her?”
Tony nodded, his eyes locked with hers. “If I could. I had to do something.”
“Did you see me come?” Georgie’s voice quivered, as did her arms. “Did you know we were doing the same?”
“No,” Tony insisted, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t see you. But… I would have come anyway. For Lucy.”
Georgie swallowed again. “You can’t stand Lucy.”
He smiled a little. “No. She’s a petulant child who needs more time in the schoolroom, but I would have come for her anyway.”
Georgie inhaled a shaky breath, then released it much the same. “You weren’t trying to break up the Spinsters at all, were you?”
He shook his head at her. “No.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“You… you meant what you said, then?” she pressed, her voice rising in pitch. “About me?”
Tony’s throat clenched involuntarily, and he was unable to speak for a long moment. “Every blessed word.”
Georgie’s lower lip trembled dangerously, but still she clung to the railing. “And your c-cousin?” she stammered, rather like Prue would have done. “The younger one?”
“I haven’t spoken to him since that day, and I may never speak to him again.” Tony sighed as he looked at this woman he loved so dearly. “I would never hurt you, Georgie. Even if I didn’t love you, I would never, and I could never do anything like Hugh suggested…”
“You still love me?” Georgie interrupted, her voice a gasp.
Tony stopped, his mouth working soundlessly. “Yes.”
Her gaze somehow grew in intensity, the brilliant shade more enhanced for it. “After everything I said and did?”
He nodded once. “Yes.”
Georgie went completely still, as did the night, and then she heaved a wrenching sob, covering her face with one hand. “Oh, Tony, I’m so sorry!”
He was to her in an instant, hauling her against his chest and pressing her face against him. “Shh, darling, it’s all right. It’s all right.”
She shook her head against him. “I’m so sorry. I was so blind, it was unforgiveable to doubt you so easily. I should have known you were not like him, that you were sincere and true…”
“Georgie, Georgie, enough,” Tony shushed, kissing her hair, and rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Don’t.”
She pulled back, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I should have believed you. Will you forgive me?”
He cupped her cheeks gently, smoothing away her tears. “Always, my love. Do you forgive me? I spoke harshly, and I should have told you from the beginning what had happened. Then we would never have…”
“I forgive you,” Georgie interrupted, fisting her hands in his lapels. “I’ll forgive you everything if you still love me.”
Tony kissed her hard, sliding one hand into her hair. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips as she panted in response. “I love you.”
One of her hands went to his neck as another tear fell. “I love you, too,” she murmured. “More than I knew.”
He kissed her again, sweetly and tenderly this time, wringing pleasure and passion from them both in the gentlest manner. Her lips toyed with his, her hand gripping his neck tightly, pulling herself closer, more fully into his embrace. He wrapped one arm around her, cradling his love against him, fearful still that this all might be a dream he would soon wake from.
Her touch was all that was real to him. The feel of her lips on his, the taste of her tears on his tongue…
If this were a dream, he did not dare awaken.
Georgie broke the kiss and pressed her forehead to his, sighing in relief.
Tony matched it, stroking her cheek softly. “I missed you,” he told her.
She nodded against his. “I missed you.”
“Will you still marry me, my love?” he asked as he wiped away the remains of another tear.
Again, she nodded. “Yes, please.”
“Well,” he replied roughly, suddenly finding a lump in his throat, “since you said it so politely…” He leaned in for another kiss.
Georgie pressed off a little, giving him a teasing look. “Don’t you dare compromise me, Tony Sterling. I’ll never live it down.”
He barked a laugh. “Do you really think you are that susceptible? What about your towering strength and control?”
“You send the whole thing trembling,” she admitted with a smug little smile he desperately wanted to kiss.
An odd sense of pride shot through him and he pursed his lips in thought. “Hmm. Can we start some rumors?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“So then you’ll have to marry me faster.” He shrugged as if that should be obvious.
Georgie broke into a mischievous grin. “Or… we can simply marry faster.”
Tony liked the sound of that. “How?”
“The banns have already been read twice,” she reminded him, her other hand settling on his shoulder. “We didn’t revoke them. One more Sunday, and we can marry.”
He gaped in amazement as he thought back. “Two weeks.”
She nodded quickly. “If that.”
Two weeks. Two simple weeks and the woman in his arms would be his. He smiled at her in wonder, the purest, most intense joy filling him so completely he thought he might burst. “Done,” he grunted against the hoard of emotions. “Now to seal the deal…”
Georgie grinned and pulled him to her for a long, blissful, rather thorough kiss.
And then Tony took his intended into the ball once more, danced several times, and let the entirety of London Society be made aware that this particular Spinster, with a capital S, was his, and his alone, forevermore.