should,’ said Georgiana gloomily. ‘Because the kind of men who will be attending a tonnish event will only want to marry girls with a title, or a dowry. And I don’t have either.’
Stepmama froze. ‘Georgiana! I thought you understood about the way I have spent what money your papa left for your future. It was his dearest wish to have you presented at court. And had he lived, I am sure he would have arranged things himself.’
Georgiana wasn’t convinced. If he’d wanted her presented at court, surely he would have mentioned it? When she was at an age to have a come-out? Instead of only imparting his wishes to his wife, so that the first she’d heard of it was after his death.
‘I...I admit, I did not quite foresee how very much it would cost. What with having to hire that woman, instead of...well—’ Stepmama shut her mouth with a snap. ‘I hadn’t budgeted for that. Not to mention the hoops and the feathers, and the jewels to make you both at least look as though you had every right to be there...’
Sukey shot Georgiana a pleading look.
Georgiana, yet again, stifled any resentment she felt and said what she knew was expected of her. ‘I know, Stepmama. I know you are doing your best in...trying circumstances...’
‘Trying? If only you knew the half. It is bad enough that imbecile cousin of your father’s rented us a house out here, in Bloomsbury for heaven’s sake, when I specifically requested a fashionable address...’
Stepmama glared round the cluttered little room the two girls were being obliged to share, with loathing. It was almost enough to lift Georgiana’s spirits. So much for Stepmama’s insistence that men were much better at handling that sort of thing. She’d been obliged to eat her words the moment their carriage, and the wagon containing all their worldly goods, had drawn up outside. For Bloomsbury was not the slightest bit fashionable. Their neighbours were retired admirals and captains of industry, not marquesses and earls. Stepmama might have forgiven the address if the house had been bigger, but upon inspection they’d discovered that although the reception rooms were generously proportioned, the rooms on the upper floor, where they were going to have to sleep, were so small they could have served as cells for monks.
Georgiana hadn’t minded that at all. On the contrary, it meant that for the first time since Papa had remarried, she was going to have a bedroom to herself. There was no alternative. Nobody could squeeze two beds into any of the rooms on the upper floor. Let alone cupboards and dressers and shelves for all the fripperies they were buying.
But Stepmama had been livid. She was banking on Sukey landing a peer of the realm. A peer who would be so smitten by her beauty and charm, and so rich, that he would think nothing of providing for both Georgiana and herself, as long as he could get his ring on Sukey’s finger.
But the chances of accomplishing anything so ambitious from an address in Bloomsbury were as slender as their box-like bedrooms.
‘Now,’ said Stepmama briskly. ‘I want no more nonsense from either of you. Sukey, you will be wearing unbroken white, as befits a debutante in her first Season. And, Georgiana, you are old enough to get away with revealing your charms so as to attract gentlemen who prefer someone a little more...’ She made a gesture outlining Georgiana’s fuller figure. ‘More.’
With that, she bustled out of the girls’ dressing room to prepare herself for tonight’s outing.
There was a moment of silence, during which Sukey touched the blue ribbon with the tip of her finger, wistfully. And Georgiana stared at her own reflection with disquiet.
‘Aren’t you the least bit excited,’ said Sukey, who must have noticed the expression on Georgiana’s face, ‘about attending our very first ton party?’
‘No,’ she replied bluntly. ‘I am dreading it.’ Nausea had been swimming in her stomach ever since Edmund had turned her down. She’d known it was a forlorn hope, attempting to breach his walls and enter the citadel which would have provided her with sanctuary. And sure enough, like so many soldiers in charge of such an endeavour, she’d been cut down before she’d got anywhere near her objective. Brutally.
‘Besides...’ She turned to concentrate on Sukey and a new worry that had taken up residence of late.
‘Oh, Georgiana, not this again!’ Sukey pouted.
‘I’m sorry, Sukey. I know that you get on like a house on fire with Dotty and Lotty, now. But I still feel horridly guilty for the way Stepmama practically stalked the Pargetters after she learned that some cousin or other of theirs recently had the good fortune to marry a viscount.’
‘She did not stalk anybody.’
‘We never became so friendly until your mama discovered the viscount in their background.’
Sukey giggled. ‘I suppose it was a little...’
Ruthless, Georgiana thought, but didn’t say. ‘And haven’t you ever wondered what will happen if the three of you all fall for the same man?’
Sukey shook her head, adopting an expression so very like her mother’s that for a moment Georgiana half-expected to get a scold.
‘We will all wish each other well and do our best to be the winner. Heavens, Georgiana, don’t huntsmen do the same sort of thing in the field? And nobody expects them to fall out over a bit of sporting rivalry.’
Now it was Georgiana’s turn to be shocked. ‘You regard men as your quarry?’
Sukey giggled again. ‘At the moment, yes, why not? It’s fun, Georgiana, taking part in this sort of game.’
‘It’s not a game, though, is it? It is...our life.’ Dread at what she was about to face squeezed at her heart, making it hard to breathe.
‘Exactly. And we ought to enjoy it to the full.’
‘But—’
‘Be sensible, Georgiana. All women have to marry—’
‘Which is the problem, in a nutshell. If only I were a man, I wouldn’t have to rely on a husband.’
Sukey shrieked with laughter. ‘I should hope not!’
‘Oh, you know what I mean,’ said Georgiana, though unbelievably she couldn’t help smiling at the way Sukey had deliberately misinterpreted her. That was the thing about Sukey. Even when Georgiana was at her most despondent, her vivacious little stepsister could nearly always manage to raise her spirits. It was how, in some ways, she’d managed to fill the void left by Edmund’s defection. Though Edmund, she reflected wistfully, had never been shocked by her behaviour, or puzzled by her opinions.
‘If I were a man,’ she continued, though she knew it was hopeless to say so, ‘I could learn a trade and earn my own living, and run my own household...’ In fact, that was what she’d hoped to be able to do with the money her father had left her. Buy a little cottage somewhere and live simply. Just the three of them. Without having any men at all complicating everything.
But Stepmama wouldn’t hear of it. She had an ingrained belief that women needed men to take care of them, which nothing could shake. Not even the house in Bloomsbury.
‘Georgiana, really! If Mama were to hear you say that...’
‘I
