Chapter 14
Georgia laughed at a joke by Lady Gertrude Cranstan, wife of the Earl of East Anglia.
It was not funny, but everyone else tittered, and she wanted to seem polite.
So far, the half dozen ladies who had been left by their husbands seemed to be accepting her, even deferring to her rank.
This was a surprise to Georgia and somewhat gratifying.
She wished she were free to enjoy it, though. Her mind kept returning to Amelia.
What are they up to? They would not hurt her, I know that.
The Vexleys had doted on Amelia, giving her preferential treatment over Georgia. She had accepted it—Amelia was their only daughter after all. So what harm could Amelia possibly come to under their care?
“I say, where is that lovely girl, Lady Alison?” asked Lady Jane, wife of the Viscount Tring. “I had a fascinating conversation with her over dinner that you really must all hear.”
Georgia had not had the opportunity to speak to Lady Alison, the only unwed guest to attend. She glanced around the drawing room in which the ladies had congregated, but the pretty young lady was nowhere to be seen.
“She is the daughter of Godalming, isn’t she?” Lady Jane asked.
“I believe so,” Lady Gertrude piped up. “Knew her grandmother well. Don’t know the granddaughter.”
“I believe she arrived with Lord Hale,” Georgia put in, recalling seeing Lady Alison and Lord Hale putting their heads together more than once at dinner.
And what a relief. At one point, I thought Lord Hale was being distinctly flirtatious towards me. I hope I was sufficiently aloof to discourage him...
Georgia had realized that evening exactly how little she knew of the game played between men and women at events such as this. Thankfully, Keaton had appeared distracted. She did not think he had heard much of the brief exchange with Lord Hale.
I do not know if he is the jealous type, and do not wish to find out. I must stay in the good books of both him and his uncle until the promised help of finding Elias materializes.
“Well, we are one short of a four for bridge. Assuming she plays. Where can she have got to?” Lady Jane said, querulously.
“I will endeavour to find out,” Georgia said, standing.
The other two protested but did not rise.
Georgia outranked them both but was also younger, lacking as much grey in her hair as they lacked any other color on their own.
She smiled and assured them she should welcome the chance to look around such a fine old house as Swinthorpe, then excused herself and left the room.
I will have the opportunity to ask one particular question of Lady Alison, namely: Where did you get your perfume?
Georgia had noticed that Lady Alison seemed to favor the same kind of fragrance that she did, of which Georgia had very little left.
That Keaton seemed to like it made her want to procure another bottle.
She ambled along a hallway that was quiet and with no sign of Lady Alison.
She timidly knocked on a door and opened it a crack, looking into a dark room.
Then she tried another, hesitant about trying random doors in someone else’s house but not knowing how else to find her quarry.
Two more doors revealed darkness and silence.
From somewhere ahead, she heard a sound from behind a door, and from somewhere else the distinctive noise of men at some game or another.
She headed towards the smaller sound, came to a door which she knocked at, then opened.
Again, she was met with darkness and was about to close the door when she heard the rustle of movement again.
Oh Lord, please tell me I have not waltzed into a darkened room in which Lady Alison and Lord Hale are engaged in something I should not see!
Georgia was about to quickly and quietly close the door again, leaving whoever it was to whatever it was, when a voice came from the dark.
“Ah, Georgia. Lost your way returning to the drawing room?”
It was Keaton’s voice, but Georgia could not see from whence the voice came. She pushed the door wider and exposed more of the room beyond to the light of the lamps that lit the hallway. But those lamps could only reach so far. The side of the room was still dark.
“Keaton? No, I did not. I was looking for Lady Alison to make up a four for bridge. Why are you not with the other men?”
“I did not care for cigars or brandy. And billiards is not my game,” Keaton replied.
There was something strange in his voice. The usual coldness was there, the aloofness as though he spoke from atop a high wall. But there was something else now. She frowned, stepping further into the room and towards the shadow that swathed the far half.
“I feel I am getting a taste of your life,” she laughed softly, bumping into a footstool.
“Do you, by god? What impudence. All you have experienced is some shadow and dim light. You can step back into the light at any time. Hardly the same.”
“Keaton? Whatever is the matter?” she frowned, walking further into the room.
The source of his voice had changed. Georgia looked to her right, where he now seemed to be speaking from.
“I observed your enjoyment at your conversation with Lord Hale,” Keaton started.
Then he laughed. It was a cold, unemotional sound. The very antithesis of true laughter.
“Observed! Obviously, that is just a figure of speech. I could not see the pleasure in your faces, only hear it in your voices. I’m sure it was perfectly obvious to everyone around the table.”
The door suddenly slammed shut, making Georgia jump. She was plunged into complete darkness. A line of light at floor level and a pinprick at keyhole level showed her where the door was, but did not cast enough light to see by.
“You’re scaring me, Keaton. What are you talking about? I exchanged a few brief words with Lord Hale. Just enough to dissuade his interests, I hope.”
“Ha! Dissuade? Give my sense of hearing more credit. Were you trying to dissuade him a few moments ago when he came looking for you, too?”
Georgia was turning slowly, trying to follow Keaton’s voice.
But he had her advantage. He knew the room and was in the element he had become used to by necessity.
Darkness. She kept bumping things while he seemed able to move silently.
Fear began to turn to anger as she barked her shin on the edge of a table.
“I have only just left the ladies in the drawing room, quite literally moments ago. You can come and ask them if you do not believe me!”
“Do not try to humiliate me!” Keaton roared, suddenly appearing out of the dark.
Georgia’s first instinct was to shy away, but she forced herself to stand her ground.
He stopped near her, looming over her menacingly.
She could see the silhouette of his body, but could not make out anything more distinctive.
Could not read emotion. Her heart raced at the venom in his voice.
She breathed deep and tried to remain calm.
“I am not and would not. I have too much to lose. Surely, you can see that? For the sake of my brother and my cousin, I very much need you.”
Keaton laughed vindictively, and Georgia hoped she would never again hear such a cold, callous sound.
“You deny what I heard at the dinner table?” he demanded.
“Yes! I deny anything inappropriate. He was rather flirtatious, and I did my best to rebuff him without causing offence. I did not once smile at him.”
“That is not how it sounded.”
“And how does a smile sound?” Georgia demanded, “Am I smiling now?”
She contorted her face into a rictus grin, as wide as she could.
“It is irrelevant. I heard him call to you in the hallway out there. You were walking after me whether you knew it or not. I suspect not. Then he… summoned you, and you went to him. I did not need to see your smile. I heard your laughter.”
“Making a joke, was he?” Georgia snapped, frustrated and annoyed at the sudden change in Keaton.
“At my expense,” he breathed in a voice that bubbled with repressed rage.
Georgia swallowed, made more nervous by the poor light.
He was right. It was crass of me to joke that I had some inkling into his life. I am not blind, but it has me unsettled.
“I must light this room…” she began, turning away.
But Keaton caught her arm in a vicelike grip, holding her in place.
He hardly seemed to move, one hand lashing out like a striking snake.
And catching her as though the darkness did not exist. She tried to free herself but found that she could not.
It was as though her wrist had been caught by a statue carved from solid marble.
He pulled her close to him, and that grip seemed to change.
It still held her like a steel manacle, but her fingers seemed to caress.
His breath caught. She felt him draw in a shuddering breath as of a man faced with unbearable temptation.
She felt the same as her body came into such close proximity to his.
He was magnetic, even more so in anger. He became frightening when angry, but that made him even more exciting.
“No light,” he grated quietly.
“It was not me! This is the first time that I have left the drawing room. I came to find Lady Alison!”
She slapped a hand against his steely chest. He caught that hand too, pressing it to him, fingers sliding across her hand to her wrist. Another shaky, desire-torn breath. A carnal thought occurred to her just then. If she pressed her body against him, would she feel his arousal?
Tearing her hand free, she thumped him with the side of her fist. It made no more impression than striking a statue.
“You heard Lady Alison, not me,” she said, breathless from the effort.
“I did not hear you. I smelled you. Your perfume. I will not share you with anyone!”
There was such terrifying ferocity in his voice that a primal instinct took over Georgia. She slapped him across the face, and the grip on her wrist was gone. She staggered a few steps, as did Keaton.