Chapter Twenty-Two
“Where shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurly-burly’s done, when the battle’s lost and won.” – Macbeth, William Shakespeare.
“Lots of ladies live separately from their husbands, my dear,” Georgie consoled, patting Ursula’s arm. “Here, I brought you a little tea. Drink up. And you ought not to sit in your room all day, it isn’t healthy. Why don’t you come downstairs and sit with me in the parlour?”
Ursula tore her gaze away from the window, offering a faint smile at her cousin. “Thank you, Georgie. You’re very kind.”
Her uncle and aunt were so very kind. Everybody was very kind. She wasn’t thirsty but took the tea anyway and sipped at it.
She had been placed in a spare room beside Georgie’s, and Ruthie slept on a pallet bed on the floor. The room was too small and smelled musty, as if it had not been used much in the past few months. It most definitely had not.
It didn’t feel like home. Of course, it didn’t.
I haven’t thought this through, she thought bleakly. Where will I go? What will I do? I have nothing and nobody.
She knew that Mama and Papa would be furious if they knew that she’d left her husband.
How much longer could she trespass on Georgie’s hospitality without the story making its way to the ears of others?
It would set the entire ton by the ears, especially considering Ursula’s previous history.
She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against the cool glass of the window.
Could I apply for a divorce? I have no grounds. An annulment? No, it would never be granted. Perhaps a separation?
None of these prospects were appealing. Ursula had no money, few friends, and nowhere at all to go if she decided to leave Georgie’s home. And even then, her uncle and aunt’s hospitality would not last long, especially if she was known to be disgraced.
“You could always go abroad, you know,” Georgie remarked idly. “Live on the Continent. If your Papa could be convinced to pay you a small allowance, then…”
She broke off abruptly at the sound of chaos coming from downstairs. A door slammed, there was a shout, and running footsteps thundered upstairs.
Before either woman had a chance to react, the door flew open with a crash. Ursula sucked in a breath, pressing her hands to her face.
“Graham!” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”
He looked a state. His hair was dishevelled, hanging over his forehead in tangled locks. He breathed heavily, and wiped sweat from his face. His cravat was coming undone.
“Ursula,” he panted. “I’ve found you at last. I must speak to you.”
Georgie at once put herself between them. “I think not, Lord Sinclair,” she said coldly. “My cousin does not wish to speak to you.”
Graham fixed his cool grey eyes upon her. “I should step aside if I were you, Miss Worth?”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Because I know of your involvement in all this.”
There was a heavy silence. Ursula took a step forward, frowning, and saw that the colour had drained from her cousin’s face.
“Graham? Georgie? What is the meaning of this?”
“He lies,” Georgie stated firmly.
Graham shook his head, withdrawing a crumpled piece of paper. “Here, Ursula, read this. It’s a letter from Miss Worth to my mother, requesting her help to separate you and myself. The letter you were given had been stolen by my mother. You were always meant to leave.”
Ursula took the letter rather mechanically, staring about her, wild-eyed.
“I don’t understand.”
“Read it.”
Ursula did, falling silent. The room was heavy with silence as she read. There were only a few lines in the letter.
It was certainly Georgiana’s handwriting, addressed to Lady Margaret Sinclair, Dowager.
“You say here, Georgie, that you agree with Margaret that my matrimony to Graham should never have taken place,” Ursula said, voice wobbling.
“You told her that the best thing for everybody would be for Graham and I to separate and seek an annulment. I… I don’t understand. Why would you do this, Georgie?”
Georgie’s face was as white as a sheet. She glanced around, terrified, struggling for words.
“I did not write that letter,” she tried, but Ursula shook her head.
“It is your handwriting.”
“My mother will attest that you sent it to her, and that she procured one of my personal letters to show to you, Ursula. There is more, too,” Graham added, stepping further into the room.
Georgie slunk back, eyes darting here and there like a cornered animal.
“You enlisted the help of Sir Roderick Black.”
At the mention of that vile man’s name, Ursula flinched as though she had been burned. Her eyes widened, and she swallowed reflexively.
“What?” she stammered. “I don’t understand.”
“The man admitted it himself,” Graham snarled, pointing a finger at Georgie. “You arranged for him to meet Ursula in the gardens that night, because you meant for her to be ruined.”
Ursula sat down heavily. Her legs had turned to jelly, and she felt sick. Tearing her eyes from the ground, she found her cousin staring at her, face livid.
“I was at my wit’s end,” Georgie whispered.
Ursula tasted bile. “It’s true, then.”
Georgie groaned aloud, backing away. “I am tired, heartily tired of being in your shadow, Ursula! I am tired of hearing how pretty you are, how graceful, how intelligent and charming, how delightful. I am tired of being compared to you. And now, on your very first Season, you are dubbed the Diamond and wed a viscount! How is that fair?”
Ursula rose to her feet, her strength surging back. “You arranged for me to be… to be assaulted? What would have happened if Graham had not intervened?”
Georgie turned away, her throat working. “I only wanted to be rid of you, Ursula. I wanted to be seen for myself, not for my pretty, rich, titled cousin. Who would ever pick a plain miss over a lady? Who would pick me over you?”
“I would!” Ursula cried. “I did! You were like a sister to me, Georgie. I defended you to Charlotte so many times, I… oh, mercy. How could I have been such a fool?”
“It isn’t my fault!” Georgie insisted, face reddening. “I have to wed, and with you gone…”
“Get out,” Ursula whispered. When Georgie didn’t immediately move, she shouted louder. “Get out!”
Georgie turned on her heel and ran out of the room, the door slamming behind her. A moment later, a bewildered Ruthie appeared in the doorway. Her eyes widened to see Graham there, but she concentrated on Ursula.
“Your ladyship? What is it?”
Ursula sank down onto the chair again, burying her face in her hands. “Pack my things, Ruthie. We leave within the hour.”
“W-Where will we go, your ladyship?”
Ursula breathed in. “That remains to be seen.”
Ruthie opened her mouth, as if she wanted to argue, then sensibly closed it again, scurrying away.
For a moment, there was silence. Then Graham crossed the room, dropping into a crouch in front of her.
“I am sorry to have revealed all this,” he murmured. “I… I felt that you had to be informed.”
“I assure you, you have done me a great service in telling me all this. Charlotte has long disliked Georgie. She was constantly telling me that she was jealous of me, but I could never see it. Perhaps I should have listened to my friend.” Sniffing, Ursula wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye.
“I am sorry that you have become tangled up in all of this. You deserve better, Graham. You should be with the woman you truly love.”
“And what woman is that?”
She glanced at him full in the eyes, trying to read his expression.
“I believe her name is Jane Whitmore.”
He reached out, gently taking her hand.
“I did once love Jane Whitmore, to be sure,” he stated quietly.
“We were a social mismatch, but I cared little for that. And nor, I believed, did she. I’m sure she was at least a little fond of me, but I know now that she did not love me.
My mother offered her money to break off our relationship and leave London.
She and her father requested a higher sum, which my mother duly paid, and they kept up their end of the bargain. ”
“She is back in London now,” Ursula whispered. “She wrote to you.”
“Believe me, Ursula, I never saw that letter. If I had, I would have written back to her and told her not to write or simply ignored it. I hold no resentment towards Jane, but my love for her melted away when I realised it was not requited. Love is a tricky thing; do you not agree? Perhaps I never loved her at all. I love you, Ursula.”
Ursula bit her lip, holding his gaze. “You truly mean it?”
He nodded, smiling earnestly. “I do.”
“You weren’t just exercising your marital duties?”
“No, Ursula. It was not that. It was never that. Before… Before you left my house, I had planned to speak to you about our relationship. I planned to be honest.”
She shifted, sitting a little more upright. “Well, you can tell me now what you wanted to say.”
He breathed out slowly, nodding. “Thank you. Ursula, I believe I am falling in love with you. Our relationship and matrimony began strangely, and I should like to start over again.”
“Start over again? What do you mean?”
He smiled, shifting close enough almost to touch the tip of his nose with hers.
“I want to court you, Ursula. I want us to promenade together, to dance at balls, to laugh and talk and kiss together. I want us to learn about each other. We’ll read books together, we’ll talk about our favourite poems. Let us begin anew.”
She held his gaze, breaking out in a wry smile. “Will you let me read the poems you write yourself?”
Graham gave a huff of laughter. “Well, as my wife, you’ll be entirely entitled to do so. I must warn you, though, that they aren’t as good as you might hope.”
“I care naught. My wish is to read them.”
He reached up, tentatively touching her cheek and Ursula’s breath caught in her throat.
“I do love you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I’ve made such a colossal fool of myself. I’m sorry that everything has worked out strangely. I never meant for any of this to happen. I was too afraid that I would turn into my father.”
“You could never be like him.” Ursula assured him. “You are not your father, and I am a different sort of woman to your mother. I won’t allow you to become like him, if you would only trust me.”
He shifted closer, dropping onto his knees, and Ursula wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He rested his head against her collar, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the warm weight of him.
She recalled how it had felt, the two of them tangled in bed together, bare skin on skin, heat fluttering in her stomach, and only empty sheets between them.
I want that again, Ursula thought, swallowing. I want him.
I believe I am in love with him, too.
“I like the idea of beginning again,” she said at last, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “As if we were courting after all.”
He pulled back, peering up into her face. “Do you mean that you agree? You’ll come home with me?”
She nodded, pushing a stray lock of hair back from his forehead. He leaned into her touch, and Ursula felt her heart quicken.
It would take a great deal of time, she concluded, to repair the breach that had grown between them. Georgiana’s betrayal, and its consequences, would not easily be forgotten. Perhaps it would never be forgotten.
But if I can at least learn to put my faith in those who are worthy, Ursula thought, then why should things not be different? Why should my life not be exactly what I make it?
On impulse, she leaned forward, fitting her lips to Graham’s. He kissed her back, his fingertips sliding up and down her ribcage, sending flutters down her spine.
The tip of his tongue just touched her lower lip, and then he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers.
“Come along, then, wife,” he breathed, giving a slow, tentative smile. “Shall we go home?”
She closed her eyes and smiled back. “Oh, yes, lets. I’ve dreamt of going home since the moment that I left, I do believe. More precisely, I have dreamt of going home with you.”
“Ah. That makes two of us then, my love.”