“She was at the same inn. Heading north, but she turned around to take me back to London.” Georgie could not even begin to describe the relief she’d felt upon seeing Lady Danbury’s familiar face outside the inn. Lady D was a leader of the ton, and Georgie wasn’t sure she’d ever exchanged two words with her, but she’d practically thrown herself at her, begging her to intercede.

“I don’t know what I would have done without her,” Georgie said. Or more truthfully, she didn’t want to think about what might have happened without her.

“She terrifies me,” Violet said.

“She terrifies everyone.”

“But surely she’s not the reason everyone found out,” Violet remarked. “She would never spread such gossip.”

“No,” Georgie said bitterly. “Mr. Oakes took care of that. He told all of his friends when he returned to London—minus the part about my, er, unmanning him.”

“And tying him up.”

“No, not that part, either.”

Violet let out an appropriately sympathetic snort of disgust.

“But even if he hadn’t,” Georgie continued, “there was such a commotion in Berkeley Square when he pushed Marian out of the carriage. From what I understand, the gossip was all over town by nightfall.”

Violet ground her teeth together. “It makes me so angry I can’t even tell you. I have never struck another human being, you know, at least not on purpose, but if I saw that—that bastard—”

The nurse gasped.

“I would blacken his eye,” Violet said.

“Do you know,” Georgie said slowly, “I believe you would.”

Violet poked her head out the door again. “Anthony! Benedict!” She looked over at the nurse, who was still recovering from Violet’s uncharacteristically coarse language. “Do you happen to know where they’ve gone off to?”

The nurse shook her head.

Violet let out a sigh. “I’m sorry to leave you like this, but we’ve got to go down to dinner.”

“We can ask one of the footmen to hunt them down,” Georgie assured the nurse. “They know all the boys’ favorite hiding places.”

“I can’t possibly be paying that nurse enough,” Violet said once they were in the hall. She smoothed her dress, a royal blue round gown that complemented her eyes. “Do I look presentable?”

“You look beautiful.”

Violet pulled her chin toward her chest as she tried to examine her shoulders. “Are you sure? The baby spit up in the carriage. I was wearing a cloak, but …”

“You look perfect,” Georgie said. “I promise. And even if you didn’t, no one would care.”

Violet smiled gratefully. “I think I asked you already, but has everyone else arrived?”

“I think so?” Georgie said. She wasn’t certain. She’d heard at least one carriage in the drive, but she hadn’t looked out the window. It could have held two people or five. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Nicholas is coming.”

“Nicholas? Why? He’s not supposed to be here. He is in the middle of his examinations.”

“He’s obviously not in the middle of his examinations because he’s here in Kent. Mama told me this afternoon.”

“That’s very odd. I hope nothing is wrong. Edmund received a letter from him just last week, no, maybe a little before that, but still, he didn’t mention anything.”

Georgie shrugged as she followed Violet down the stairs. “I only know what Mama told me. And as far as I can tell, she only knows what his mother told her.”

“Pack of gossips, we are.”

“We are not,” Georgie said emphatically. “We are people who love and care about each other and are therefore logically interested in comings and goings. It is not at all the same as a pack of gossips.”

“Sorry,” Violet said with a wince. “There really ought to be a more benign word for people who love and care about each other and are therefore logically interested in the comings and goings.”

“Family?” Georgie suggested.

Violet let out a loud bark of laughter just as they entered the drawing room. Edmund handed her the glass of sherry he’d already poured for her with an amused smile. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” she said. “Everyone in this room, actually.”

He turned to Georgie.

“She’s right,” Georgie said.

“I may need to head back over to the less feminine side of the room,” Edmund joked.

“Oh, please,” Violet returned, linking her arm with his. “Don’t act as if you haven’t the numbers at home. It’s four against one.”

He kissed her hand. “You’re easily worth five of us.”

Violet looked over at Georgie. “I’m not sure that was a compliment.”

“I would take it as such, regardless of his intentions.”

“Good evening to you, too, sister,” Edmund said, offering Georgie his usual mischievous smile.

Georgie returned the gesture with a quick kiss on his cheek. “I take that back,” she said to Violet. “Disregarding his intentions presupposes that he had intentions. Most of the time when he speaks, the words just spew forth like …” She rolled her hands in front of her face in a rough approximation of a verbal tumbleweed.

“You are evil,” Edmund said approvingly.

“I learned from the best.”

“Yes, you did, didn’t you?”

“Has Nicholas arrived?” Violet asked. “Georgie mentioned he would be coming. Do you know why he’s home?”

Edmund shook his head. “Billie and George are here, but they said that Lord and Lady Manston and Nicholas are coming separately.”

George Rokesby was the heir to the earldom, and he and Billie also lived at Crake with their three children. Lord Manston often said that Billie was the finest thing to happen to the Rokesby family since they’d gained their title in 1672. She was passionate about farming and land management, and Crake’s agricultural output had nearly doubled in the decade since she’d married George.

Billie was quite a bit older than Georgiana, though, and while they’d never been terribly close, that seemed to be changing as Georgie moved further into adulthood. The nine-year age gap that had been so daunting when Georgie was sixteen was not such a huge thing at twenty-six.

“I should go greet Billie,” Georgie said, leaving Edmund and Violet to make their usual dove eyes at each other. It was hard sometimes to be around them. They were so much in love. Georgie had never met two people so obviously made for each other.

She loved them both, she really did, but tonight they were a reminder of all the things she would never have.

No husband. (Not unless she agreed to marry Freddie Oakes, and that wasn’t going to happen.)

No children. (One needed a husband for those.)

No everything else that followed.

But she did have more than most people. She had a loving family, and she never had to worry where her next meal might come from, and she supposed if she gave herself enough time to ponder it, she’d find some sort of new purpose in life.

Her mother was right. She couldn’t molder in her room forever. She probably was justified in taking a few more weeks of feeling sorry for herself, but after that she would have to move on.