Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Georgie, Sophia, Oliver, and Anastasia had just returned from playing in the rear gardens when Georgie spotted Hugh and Pip coming out of the library.
Pip immediately ran down to meet them, and the two boys were quickly comparing stories of birds, drawings, and dogs.
Sophia looked on with a fond smile before excusing herself.
Georgie strolled to meet Hugh, Anastasia trotting beside her. The pug capered about his feet, and he bent to pet her.
“And how’s our little lady today?”
“She should be tired,” Georgie complained. “Oliver played find me with her for at least a half hour. Yet she doesn’t care to stop.”
Anastasia turned in a circle on the carpet, then paused and cocked her head as if waiting for Hugh to tell her she was a clever girl.
“Well, perhaps Oliver and Pip can keep her entertained.” He rose. “I just spoke with His Grace, who assures me that the manor has several small boats that can be used on the pond. Would you care to go for a ride?”
The corridor seemed to close in around her, and she could not catch her breath. She must have swayed, for Hugh reached out to catch her elbow, frown gathering.
“Georgie? What is it?”
She swallowed, but the bile persisted in rising. “Excuse me.”
She bolted for the stairs.
Sophia had just reached the top, and Georgie nearly collided with her. One look at Georgie’s face, and her friend took her arm. “This way.”
Sophia led Georgie to her bedchamber and settled her by the hearth. Then the other duchess went to fetch a cloth she wetted at the washbasin.
“What’s happened, dearest?” she asked, bending over Georgie and brushing the cool cloth against her brow.
The air still felt too thin. “Hugh wants to go boating.”
“Oh?” Sophia asked with a frown. Then her face cleared, and she straightened. “Oh. Well, simply tell him you’d prefer not to go. Nothing says you ever need climb into a boat again.”
Georgie knew that, but hearing her friend say it allowed her to take a deeper breath. Sophia might not understand everything about Freddie’s death, but she knew the matter had weighed on Georgie.
“You’re right,” she told Sophia. “I don’t have to agree. But I suspect I’m going to owe him an explanation.”
Sophia shrugged. “Only if you care about him.”
“I do,” Georgie said, then cringed at the plaintive tone. “I do,” she said more firmly. “Would you ask him to meet me in the portrait gallery? We should talk.”
“Of course. I’ll keep an eye on Pip and Oliver.” Sophia bent and planted a kiss on Georgie’s hair. “You’ll feel better afterward. I promise.”
Georgie wasn’t nearly so sure. But Sophia was right. Because Georgie cared more about Hugh every day, she had to tell him the truth.
Why did she keep having these difficult conversations?
She shook her head as she made for the long gallery at the end of that floor.
Well, the one about the thief had not been her doing.
She had merely been relaying distressing and perplexing news.
What she had to say to Hugh was all of her own making.
That he was equally perplexed and distressed was obvious by the way he entered the portrait gallery, eyes down at the corners and walk hesitant. She felt as if every gaze from the dozens of portraits lining the room was on her, and every Tyneham was disappointed.
Well, she was beyond disappointed. She was shamed. She dropped onto one of the benches that ran down the center of the space and waited for Hugh to join her.
“What’s wrong, Georgie?” he asked, sinking onto the padded bench.
She drew in a steadying breath. “Because I care about you, Hugh, I must tell you the truth.”
His face had brightened when she’d started, but now it fell again. “What truth? That you are a woman without peer? I’ve known that for some time.”
“Oh, Hugh, you see only the good, and I love you for that.” Tears were falling. She’d known they would. They always did when she thought of that day.
“I failed my husband when he needed me most.” His eyes widened, and she hurried on before she could do as her heart bid and run from the room.
“We went out boating on a clear summer’s day on the reflecting pond, just the two of us.
It was supposed to be romantic. And it was, at first. Freddie had a joy for life.
He was always larking about. So when he stood up to spread his arms and proclaim his love for me, I just smiled as I always did. ”
She closed her eyes, but still she saw the fateful moment.
“Then he overbalanced and fell into the pond.” She swallowed.
“He couldn’t swim. Neither could I. It never dawned on me the water might be deep enough that he could not keep his head above it.
I tried reaching out with the oar, but his weight nearly capsized the boat.
In the end, he released it, while I shouted for help.
And then he sank. He sank!” She pressed her fingers to her face, sobs shaking her.
Gentle hands rubbed up her arms. “You did what you could, Georgie.”
Her hands fell, and she stared into his compassion.
“But it wasn’t enough, Hugh! I couldn’t save him.
If I’d been stronger, if I’d told him this was one of his worst ideas, perhaps he would be alive.
But I never disagreed with Freddie. I just went along with him, whatever he tried, because he was my husband.
I was spineless, useless. And he died because of me! ”
“No.” The word was as firm as the look that came over his face.
“No, Georgie. This is not your fault. He made the decision to go out on that pond. He had to have known the depth and the fact that neither of you could swim. He should have realized standing in a boat that size is never wise. I grieve for your loss, but you didn’t cause it. ”
She sniffed. “Then you don’t think I’m a bad person?”
“No, Georgie, never. You’re a tender-hearted person, and that is to your credit. You are a blessing to everyone who meets you.”
“Oh, Hugh, I want to be!”
He ran a hand down her arm. “You are. Trust me in that. And if you cannot trust me, ask either of the other duchesses.”
A chuckle bubbled up as she pulled out her handkerchief. “They would probably tell you I’m nothing but a watering pot.”
“I suspect they would tell me you are also the source of light in this house. I know you are in my life.” Now his hand cupped her cheek. “I love you, Georgie.”
Then he was leaning closer, and she met him halfway. The kiss was soft and sweet, and hope once more swelled. It was time to let Freddie go, as she’d been forced to do that awful day. If Hugh could offer such compassion, surely she could forgive herself and grasp the chance for a new love.
“Step away from my daughter!”
Despite herself, Georgie flinched. Hugh rose to face her father. She tilted to one side to eye him as well. His face was florid, his stance combative, and even his mustache bristled.
“What’s this I hear about you fainting?” he demanded. “Is this fellow taking liberties?”
Georgie stood beside Hugh. “No, never. I love him, Father, and he loves me.”
Her father shook his head. “You’re too kind, my girl. You don’t see him for what he is, an ambitious fortune hunter.”
“That, sir, is a lie,” Hugh said, voice harder than she’d ever heard it.
Georgie put a hand on Hugh’s arm. “You are mistaken, Father.”
The colonel raised his brows.
“I know that’s rare,” Georgie allowed. “But I believe your love for me blinds you. You want the best for me. I see that. But you must trust that I know what’s best for me. I will always value your insights and wisdom, but this choice must be mine.”
“He put you up to this,” he said, glowering at Hugh.
“No, you provoked this,” Georgie said. “It would hurt me to lose your regard, but I will brook no opposition in this matter. Can you accept that?”
* * *
Hugh had never seen Georgie like this—strong, determined, ready to fight for what she believed in. And she believed in him. He was so proud of her for telling him about what had to have been the worst moment of her life and proud of her for standing her ground now.
But she didn’t have to stand alone.
He turned to her. “Will you let me speak to your father?”
She glanced from her father’s stern face to Hugh. “Very well. But don’t you dare let him win.” Her father huffed as she stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to Hugh’s cheek. Then she swept from the room.
The colonel widened his stance as if prepared to raise his fists and fight. “This is your fault.”
“You misjudge your daughter, sir,” Hugh said, amazed at the calm that spread through him. “She is stronger than you know. She just proved as much.”
Georgie’s father drew himself up. “What are your intentions?”
Straight to the point, like the military man he was. “Nothing would make me happier than to have Georgie beside me as my wife. But I struggled to believe I have anything to offer her.”
“At least you’re willing to admit as much,” her father said with a nod. “I don’t know what you have to offer either. But I can see she cares and so do you.”
“I will love your daughter until my dying breath,” Hugh said. “And beyond.”
“So you claim,” her father allowed. “But I have my eye on you, sir, and if you set one foot out of line, I will see you thrown out of this house, this parish, and the Church of England.” He turned and stalked away.
That was likely the best the colonel had to give Hugh. He still considered it progress.
* * *
By Saturday, Morrigan couldn’t abide her suspicions.
They poked at her while she was helping Dorcus with the cleaning, whispered as she walked Anastasia about the rear gardens.
Mr. Kinsle and Maisy were rejoicing that the duke had made up for the lost funds, so no one had been truly hurt by the theft.
What was one more figurine among all the other decorations in this house?
Should Morrigan say something or keep her mouth shut?