The Homeless Heiress. Anne Herries

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      Georgie scowled at her and walked away, finding her way to the front parlour where she usually sat unless she joined Henderson in the servants’ hall below stairs. He had taken pity on her a few times these past days, playing cards with her to help pass the time. But he was often busy with his duties, and since Georgie had been banned from her host’s bedchamber she was feeling bored and frustrated. More than once she had considered leaving this house and setting out on her own, but the lack of funds meant she would need to walk all the way to Yorkshire, which she knew was impossible, or hitch a ride—and that was too dangerous.

      ‘Oh, damn him,’ Georgie muttered. She wandered round the room at a loss for something to do, and ended up standing in front of the window. As she glanced down into the street, she saw a man crossing the road towards the house and flinched back. Was he coming here? Did he know she was staying here? Surely he couldn’t?

      She felt a thrill of horror as the knocker sounded. He was coming here! She opened the parlour door and listened, poised for flight and hearing the sound of Jensen’s voice as the man inquired for Captain Hernshaw.

      ‘I am sorry, sir,’ Jensen said. ‘Captain Hernshaw is not available at the moment. If you would like to leave your card, I shall tell him you called.’

      ‘Very well. You may tell your master that I shall hope to hear from him. Good day.’

      ‘Good morning, sir.’

      Georgie crept to the top of the stairs as Jensen placed the calling card on a silver salver on the hall table. He went off to the rear of the house and she ran down the stairs, picking up the card. She read the few words printed there: Raoul Thierry of Westbury House, Thraxton Morton, Yorkshire. On the back were scrawled the words: ‘We may be of some use to each other if we could meet, Thierry.’

      What could he want with Captain Hernshaw? Had he learned that Georgie was staying here? She frowned over the card and then slipped it into the pocket of the jacket she was wearing. She dare not take the risk that he would come here to meet Captain Hernshaw while she was here. She would keep the card for now and give it to Captain Hernshaw when he delivered her to her great-aunt’s house.

      Georgie went quickly up to her own room. She glanced at herself in the small mirror on the dressing chest, her melting brown eyes wide and fearful. Henderson had found her some clothing that fitted her much better than Captain Hernshaw’s. She looked like a very young boy until she took her cap off, letting her luxuriant hair tumble down over her shoulders. She knew that anyone who saw her dressed this way would think her shameless. She was slender and the short buff-coloured coat covered her breasts, which would otherwise have given the game away, but when she took it off they were noticeable beneath the soft linen. It was after she had wandered into the captain’s bedroom looking like this that he had banned her from visiting him.

      ‘Have you lost all sense of modesty, Georgie?’ he had asked, sounding annoyed. ‘Dressed like that with your hair loose—it is too provocative and not the attire for a gentleman’s bedchamber, even if he is still as weak as a kitten.’

      The look he had given her then had made Georgie blush. She had replaced her cap, but the ban had not been rescinded. She was barred from visiting him in his bedchamber and as yet he had not attempted to come out, though it was more than a week.

      How much longer would he be confined to his bed? Her restlessness had increased since catching sight of the visitor that morning. She thought that Captain Hernshaw did not know him, for he had not reacted to the name when she mentioned it, though it was obvious that Raoul Thierry wanted to meet him. It was imperative that they did not meet until after Georgie had reached her great-aunt’s house!

      How much longer must she stay here! If only he would lend her enough money to pay for her fare, but she knew that it was useless to ask. He was determined not to let her go alone and so she had no choice but to wait for him to recover.

      Some days later, Georgie was curled in a large wing chair when the door opened and she sensed someone looking at her. She glanced up, her heart jerking as she saw Captain Hernshaw. He looked as powerful as ever, his strong shoulders clothed in a coat that fitted him closely, his breeches pale and elegant with only a slight thickening at the thigh to show that he had recently been wounded and still wore a bandage.

      ‘Oh, are you better?’ she said, uncurling and getting to her feet. ‘This is the best chair. Perhaps you would like to sit here?’

      ‘So this is where you get to,’ Richard said. She wasn’t wearing her coat and the shirt clung to her curves, making him realise that she was far from being the child he had thought her that first night. ‘Why don’t you use the parlour? It is more comfortable than this room.’

      ‘Mrs Jensen always lights a fire here. I didn’t like to ask her to light the parlour fire.’

      ‘I shall do so,’ Richard said and limped towards her. He grimaced from the pain. If Henderson had had his way, Richard would still be in bed, but he was tired of lying there when there was so much needing his attention. ‘What are you doing here? I shouldn’t have thought there was much in this room to interest you.’

      ‘There isn’t,’ Georgie said and pulled a face. ‘But Dora would not let me visit you.’

      ‘She was obeying my orders,’ Richard said. ‘You are bored. I am sorry. I had no intention of staying more than a few days for I have business elsewhere.’

      ‘It’s my fault,’ Georgie said, voicing thoughts even she hadn’t realised were there until now. ‘If you hadn’t taken a detour to help me, you would not have had to go out again that night.’

      ‘If it hadn’t happened then, it would another day,’ he said, voice and face expressionless. ‘Besides, I am on the mend now. We shall be ready to leave in a couple of days.’

      ‘Really?’ She discovered that she was no longer in a hurry. ‘You must take your time, sir. I should not wish your wound to break open again on my account.’

      ‘I heal quickly,’ Richard said. His eyes narrowed. ‘Be careful no one sees you like that, Georgina. I’m afraid your secret would not remain a secret for long if you were seen without your cap and coat.’

      ‘Perhaps I should cut my hair?’

      ‘No!’ he answered swiftly, a note of authority in his voice that made her stare at him. ‘No, it would be a shame to cut such glorious tresses. After all, this masquerade will soon be over.’ His gaze narrowed. ‘I think it best if you retain the boys’ clothes as we travel, but I will purchase a gown for you to change into before we arrive at your great-aunt’s home. You will not want to shock her by arriving dressed like that, Georgina.’

      ‘No, I think she would be angry.’ Georgie looked at his face, noting the tiny nerve that flicked at his temple. ‘Please, will you not call me Georgie? My aunt always used Georgina when she wished to punish me for something.’

      ‘Did you often deserve that she should punish you?’

      ‘Perhaps. I dare say I tried her patience, but my mother…’ She blinked as she felt the sharp sting of tears. ‘We were a happy family. I was given a great deal of freedom. Mama told me to remember my manners, to be kind to others and to speak my mind if I saw injustice or deceit—but always to be myself.’

      Richard saw that she was emotional. ‘You must miss your parents terribly?’

      ‘Yes,

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