Chapter 24
George shivered immeasurably against the chill wind that had started to blow through the branches of the bare trees surrounding the lake.
Yet, he could not bring himself to leave, nor could he turn away as he watched the carriage leave, carrying Cecelia, her family, and his dearest friend from the place where tragedy had almost occurred.
Every fibre of his being bid him to go after them.
A hand landed upon his forearm, Lady Elizabeth having stood beside him as everyone bundled into their carriage.
“You poor thing,” she said, her grip tightening until he was certain her glove must have been sodden.
With no idea what to respond, he continued to stare after the carriage.
“Your Grace, I wish to thank you,” Lord Greystone said, approaching as if it were his God-given right to be the one to offer gratitude on behalf of the Flannerys’.
In truth, he needed none. He would have done the same for anyone; that it was Catherine, Cecelia's youngest sister, only made the matter worse.
“I need no thanks,” he stated, staring over the gentleman's shoulder after the carriage.
Absentmindedly, he began to peel Lord Greystone's coat off his shoulders, but the gentleman shook his head.
“Please, keep it. You have greater need of it.”
George scoffed silently. A pity Cecelia was not here to witness the man's chivalry.
“I shall have it cleaned and returned to you,” George assured him.
Lord Greystone tipped his hat. “I shall not keep you.”
“Very good of you, My Lord,” Elizabeth said, and she gripped George's arm. “Come, let us get you to your carriage before you catch a chill.”
George was too frostbitten to argue.
He allowed Elizabeth to guide him blindly to his waiting carriage, and his manservant, who had already appeared with a blanket.
“I must say, George,” Elizabeth sighed, “this afternoon has taught me a great deal.”
He glanced sideways at her. “How not to drown?”
She laughed, charmed, and George cursed himself. After Walter's proposal, he had done his best to keep his sister at arm's length.
“Yes, that, and well ...” Elizabeth paused beside his carriage, and he halted before her. She glanced down, her hand removed from his arm. “You were quite the hero, George. And, well, I couldn't help but notice—”
She trailed off, and her gaze travelled in the direction where Cecelia's carriage had disappeared.
“Notice what?” George asked. Though he was practically frozen now, his curiosity was piqued.
“The way you and Cece looked at each other,” Elizabeth said, releasing a long inhale. “It was like nothing I have ever witnessed before.”
George's stomach twisted. “I am unsure of what you mean.”
Elizabeth's cheeks, though red from the cold, seemed to redden further.
She lowered her gaze, and George noticed how she gulped.
“I understand now,” she said gently, placing a hand upon George's arm once more. “Why you would not wish for an arrangement to be made between us.”
George's chest tightened. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, unsure of what to say.
“Cecelia is a lucky lady,” she said, and George's heart skipped a beat. Having stopped beside the carriage, George barely noticed his manservant as he plucked Lord Greystone's coat from his shoulders and began to help him peel off his own.
He was about to protest when Elizabeth stepped away. She raised her head, her expression filled with understanding and something else, something that made George unable to speak.
“You have always been too stubborn for your own good, Georgie,” she said, smiling softly. “You must put it aside now and follow your heart.”
George's throat constricted.
“Elizabeth, I—”
She shook her head, cutting him off.
“Do not try to explain. There is no need. I have long suspected that your heart lies with another. I would not wish to stand in the way of that.”
George half-stepped forward, then back again. Unsure what to say or do.
“Your Grace, we really ought to get you in the carriage and out of these wet clothes,” his manservant insisted, but George waved him away.
“Elizabeth, you have always been like a sister to me,” he insisted as he finally found his voice. “I would not wish anything to change that.”
He felt relief wash over him as she smiled.
When she reached for his hand, he took hers and gripped tightly. “You shall always have a brother in me, no matter what you may need. Be it support, protection, or otherwise.”
Elizabeth's smile broadened. “And you shall always have mine, George. But you were always well aware of that.”
For a second, neither of them spoke. George tried hard to hide his shivering, feeling unable to leave quite yet, but still unsure what else to say.
“If I am your sister, so then allow me to impart some advice?” she asked, her smile becoming almost sad.
George simply nodded, his teeth beginning to chatter.
“Do not wait, George,” Elizabeth insisted. She squeezed his hand firmly. “Or you may find it is already too late.”
Had it not been for the very public area they were standing in, George might well have hugged her then.
Instead, he squeezed her hand firmly in the hopes she would feel his gratitude and brotherly affection.
As if she did, she withdrew her hand from his, and ordered, “Off with you, Georgie, before my mother has my guts for garters for allowing you to catch your death of cold.”
The sisterly affection that shone in her gaze caused him to offer a smile in return.
“You are wise beyond your years, Lizzie,” he told her, dipping a low bow. “You shall make a man very happy one day.”
“And I shall never allow him to forget it,” she assured him, happily.
“I should think not.” George smiled before clambering into his carriage, his hands and feet numb with cold.
The coachman appeared to need no instruction, for as soon as the door was closed and Elizabeth stepped away, the carriage started to move swiftly.
And it took all he had in him for George not to instruct him straight to Fernworth Manor after Elizabeth's words.
No matter his feelings, he was certain Cecelia would not thank him for turning up in such a sorry state.
And in truth, he wasn't certain that in his current state, he was anywhere near ready to admit the truth.
Still, Elizabeth's words haunted him. It might be too late.
Still, he remembered how Cecelia had looked at him, the affection and gratitude that had shone in her gaze as they had crouched over her sodden, half-drowned sister.
He could not quite bring himself to believe that it was over just yet.
Perhaps Elizabeth might actually have given him the courage he needed to look past his stubbornness. And, he would forever be thankful to her for it.