parts.’
‘You know very little of me,’ Richard said, frowning. ‘I do not live in Yorkshire myself, but my sister does. She married a gentleman she met while living with the countess, and I visit her occasionally—though not as often as she would like. Jenny is a fond sister, though these days she has her hands full with her children.’
‘What are they—boys or girls?’ Georgie asked, because this was the first she had learned of his private life. ‘And how old?’
‘She has a boy and a girl, and hopes to have more,’ Richard replied, a little smile on his lips. ‘The girl is about the age of the girl you talked to at the inn we stayed at last night, and the boy is scarcely two.’
‘How lucky she is to have one of each,’ Georgie said. ‘I always wished that I might have had a sister or a brother, but Mama lost one baby and Papa would not risk her health again. He loved her too much…’ She sighed, her smile dimming. ‘It was terrible to lose them both as I did, but I do not think that either of them could have supported life without the other.’
‘But you were left alone,’ Richard said. ‘My parents also died when I was still young, but at least I still had my sister—and I have her family when I am in need of some of the comforts of home. You have no one who truly cares for you, I think?’
‘Aunt Agatha was not unkind at first,’ Georgie said. ‘But her life was difficult. My uncle was for ever gambling and there were times when money was short. I am sure it was he who wanted to settle his debts by selling me to Monsieur Thierry. My aunt was shocked, but could do nothing but obey her husband.’
‘Will the countess be prepared to stand against them for guardianship?’ Richard asked. ‘Have you considered that your uncle may have the right to force you to return to his house until you are older?’
‘Papa’s will states that I should be free to live as I please once I come into my fortune,’ Georgie said. ‘There are two lawyers applying the terms of the trust, and I think they might support me if I tell them what he tried to do.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ Richard said. He hesitated, then, ‘My sister can always reach me if she needs me. I shall furnish you with her address and you may apply to me if you are in trouble.’
‘Oh…’ Georgie looked down because her heart had begun to thump madly in her breast, feeling as if it would burst free of her ribcage. ‘Surely you would not wish to have the trouble of such things?’
‘I would help you if need be,’ Richard said and his eyes held hers. ‘Can you doubt it?’
At that moment Georgie would have believed anything he told her. She felt as if she were drawn to him, bound to him by invisible threads and her mind sought for something to say that would make him understand how she felt, but at that moment someone came in to announce that their carriage was waiting.
Georgie turned, preceding the others as they all went outside. She hoped that Richard had not noticed her confusion, because she did not want him to see that he had set hope flaring inside her. His promise that he would help her made her feel that perhaps she might see him again after the morrow.
Their journey that afternoon was uneventful, perhaps because Richard had hired grooms to accompany them. His young tiger had stayed behind with his master’s horses and rig, and would wait at the posting inn until he was told what to do next. Richard sat opposite her.
He made conversation for a while and then leaned back, his eyes closed. She thought that he was sleeping and felt pleased, because she knew he had had little sleep the previous night. If he could relax now, it must mean that his wound was feeling a little easier.
At the next inn they were shown to their rooms, and shortly after Georgie had washed and made herself comfortable she heard a knock at the door. She opened it to find Henderson standing there with a valise, which he handed to her with a smile.
‘Can you manage, miss?’ he asked. ‘I could ask the innkeeper’s wife to send a girl up to help you.’
‘No, thank you. I am sure I can manage,’ Georgie said. ‘I shall not come down this evening. I think it best if no one sees me—and I am not hungry.’
‘I’ll ask for a light supper to be sent up, miss,’ Henderson promised as he left.
Georgie smiled and closed the door, locking it once more. She carried the valise to the bed and opened it, taking out a gown of primrose muslin. It was the fashion of two seasons previously with a high waist, puffed sleeves and a white sash, which she could tie at the front or the side. It was a little creased, but she shook it out, laying it over the back of a chair as she examined the rest of the clothes. There was a shawl of white silk, some dainty white leather half-boots, which were a little too large for her, but wearable once she had laced them, silk stockings and garters, a fine silk petticoat—which, considering the cold weather of the past few days, she thought it advisable to wear—and a heavy pelisse of dark blue for travelling. She pulled everything out of the valise to make sure, but there were no pantaloons. Of course some fashionable ladies did not wear them under their clinging gowns, but Georgie had been accustomed to such items of underwear and felt that it would be very daring of her not to do so. However, as there were none, she would simply have to brave it.
No one would know, of course, but she felt it a little shocking. However, it might have been even more shocking if they had been there for her bag must have been packed by Henderson, who was more used to serving a gentleman.
She considered dressing in her finery just to see how she looked, suddenly keen to be a young lady again. However, the hour was late because Richard had wanted to make up for time lost earlier in the day, and she decided that it could wait for the morning. When she undressed she placed the youth’s clothing into the bag, apart from the shirt that she had used as nightwear the previous night and would use again.
The Countess of Shewsbury and Morton would no doubt think it very odd when she arrived with no baggage, but they must hope that she was prepared to believe Georgie’s story of having lost it on the road. She would have to send for her things, or wait until she had her money and could buy more, though that would be awkward.
Her life would be less than comfortable even when she reached the safety of her aunt’s home, Georgie realised, and there was no guarantee that the countess would be willing to defy her uncle. As Richard had pointed out, her uncle was her legal guardian, of course, and could demand her return at least until she came into her inheritance.
Notwithstanding her troubled thoughts, Georgie slept soon after her head touched the pillow.
She woke as soon as the first rosy fingers of dawn began to creep through the partially drawn curtains, and was dressed and ready when the maid brought her a breakfast tray containing soft rolls, honey and a pot of dark chocolate.
Once she had eaten, Georgie gathered her things and went downstairs. She discovered that Richard and Henderson were already in the hall, and by the sound of it they had something important to discuss. However, they stopped speaking as one and turned to look at her as she reached the bottom stair, a picture of youthful beauty in her yellow gown and white shawl, the pelisse over her arm. She had no bonnet or even a ribbon to tie up her hair and so it fell on to her shoulders in a riotous tangle of shining curls and waves.
‘You are ready, then,’ Richard said, his eyes seeming to dwell rather too long on her slender form. ‘I was about to send the maid to see if you were. I trust you slept well?’
‘Very
