Chapter Thirteen #2
She shrugged. “We cannot have Lady Diana thinking otherwise, now can we? Indeed, I suppose if the ton still hates me when I leave here, I could audition at the theater for how well I’ve been believed.”
I did not like that one bit. Nor the thought of her leaving without my saying so. “I do not think you’re all that great an actress.”
“No?” She sounded irked, and I loved it.
“You are too genuine.” I shook my head, playing both the tease and the innocent. “I hate to say it, but I think for once the ton is right. It is simply too easy to be your friend.”
A breathy laugh of surprise escaped her lips. “Are you admitting that you enjoy my company, Marlow?”
I set down my teacup and pretended to come to a surprising realization. “Yes, Georgiana, I think I am.”
Her smile faded. She bit her bottom lip and looked down at the open book in her lap. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I could dearly use a friend. And I shall feel less a liar among Society now.”
Had it been weighing on her? Telling falsehoods to regain their good opinion? I hadn’t even flinched at the idea. I hadn’t thought she cared.
Quite fragile, her brother had called her. Perhaps she was. Perhaps Georgiana’s greatest flaw was that she truly did care. “Society will never know the difference.”
“But your cousins. Your mother. I will always be burdened knowing how I’ve deceived them.”
I shrugged. “Then simply tell them the truth. What does it matter? The present truth is more important than the past.”
She eyed me warily. “Are you trying to get your ring back early so you can send me on my way?”
I scoffed, laughing. Admittedly, I was pleased to know she still had it. That it was safe and nearby. But I’d hardly thought about our bargain today. All I’d thought about was ending my day exactly here—taking tea by the fire—with her.
“You still owe me two outings, friend,” she said, her delicate brows lifting.
“Georgiana, I will take you wherever you want, whenever you wish it. Yes, I will need that ring back eventually, but I trust you will give it to me in time.”
She didn’t believe me. I could see it on her face. The way she pressed her lips together. How she tilted her head to one side. I wondered if she had trouble trusting me specifically, or if her distrust was based upon her past experiences.
“I am not some villain in your novels.” Not toward her at least. I offered what I hoped was a convincing smile. “Nor a ghost hiding behind a veil.”
Her lips ticked upward. She leaned over her armrest. “Do you know, that is exactly what all the villains say.”
“Ah.” I nodded, playing along. “And then they rush off to their dark villain tunnels and do unspeakable villain things?”
She squinted. “You would know better than I.”
“I do have dark hidden tunnels, so I suppose that does make me a villain.” I leaned back. Took another sip. The interest in her eyes fed me new life, so I continued, “And one in particular is very haunted.”
Her lips parted, eyes blinking wide. “Here? At Ashburn Abbey.”
I nodded and slowly set down my cup. Ashburn Abbey wasn’t that old, but where could I fool her? Where could I scare her? “There is a hidden tunnel in the floor.”
She frowned. “A servants’ stairway?”
Just the same. She likely had them at her brother’s estate. But mine would be longer. Dank. “It is unused by servants, for it leads to . . . well, I suppose it would not be wise to reveal.”
I had no idea where it led.
“You’re being ridiculous.” She sat back. “Poking fun at me.”
“On the contrary,” I insisted. “This place is very real.”
“I am sure it is. Some servants’ stair that leads to a cellar.” She opened her book and sighed. “You won’t scare me with such nonsense.”
Her eyes washed over her page as she settled back in her chair. As much as I loved watching her read, seeing her comfortable, I did not want to simply sit by her. I wanted her attention. Like a petulant child, I wanted to poke at her until she looked at me again.
“I will take you there.” I shrugged. “You can see for yourself.”
Her eyes flicked over to mine. Curious. “Now?”
There were many passageways beneath Ashburn Abbey to allow servants to move throughout different areas in the house. All would be unused at this hour. One led from the house to the outside. Perhaps, if I weaved a good enough story, I might be able to entertain her.
“Put down your book,” I said. “Are you wearing your slippers tonight?”
Her cheeks flushed warm in the low-lit room. Drat, I’d embarrassed her. Brought notice to the fact she hadn’t been wearing them last night.
“Yes,” she answered almost defensively.
“I do not care whether or not you wear them in this room,” I clarified. “Only for the journey.”
I stood from my seat, mind racing. All the aches and pains of the day vanished for the purpose of creating this experience for Georgiana.
She set her book on her chair. “Come alone with you in the night?” she said. “This does not sound wise.” And yet she stood from her seat.
It mattered very little to me if we were seen alone. What could anyone say that I could not speak above? “You do not trust me.”
She thought about it. Looked around the room. “I want to.”
I took a lit candle from the hearth and handed it to her before taking another for myself.
“Then, come, friend, and meet the ghosts that haunt the servants’ passageways.”