Chapter Eight #3
Georgiana pressed her palms against her face, sweat cooling on her skin, her chest tight. “I—yes. Just a dream.”
Her hands trembled as she tried to smooth back her hair.
Without a word, she felt the mattress dip as Cecily climbed up beside her, the blanket rustling as her sister pulled it back over both of them. Cecily’s warmth settled against her side.
“When we were children, it was I who had the nightmares,” Cecily said. “Do you remember how I used to climb into bed with you?”
Georgiana gave a shaky laugh, still half-caught in the dream’s grip. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me like this. I am a grown woman.”
“Who cares?” Cecily’s head found her shoulder in the dark. “You’re my sister. And, anyway, it is you who takes care of me. I can feel the burden you carry. For me. For Mother. I hope someday to repay you.”
“You mustn’t think of it that way. I do not. You are my family.”
“And you are mine.”
They lay in silence, the house occasionally creaking. Gradually, Georgiana felt her breathing steady, her pulse slowing to something approaching normal. Soon, she fell asleep, nestled against the warm body of her sister.
*
The next morning, even though neither of them wished to do so, duty toward their mother swayed them to go into the village to visit with Lady Linley at the inn.
Georgiana wished to ask her mother about exactly what had transpired in London that had caused her to come searching for them.
Her mother’s friend, Mrs. Cline, and her husband had generously offered Lavinia a place to stay.
Mrs. Cline was a kind woman, the type who saw the good in everyone.
Which meant she was easily manipulated by Lavinia.
They’d been friends since childhood and Mrs. Cline had a soft heart for Lavinia.
Or at least she’d had one. Her mother had obviously done something terrible for Mrs. Cline to send her away.
What was she to do with Mother now? None of them had homes or husbands. There was nowhere for Lavinia to go. Other than to her daughters.
Before she and Cecily set out, Georgiana went to see James in his study. He was at the desk, poring over ledgers of some sort.
“Georgie, how are you this morning?” He stood, smiling. “Are you going out somewhere?”
She was wearing her best day dress. Leave it to him to notice.
“I’m well, my lord. Thank you. I’ve come to inform you that Cecily and I are going into the village to see our mother this morning. It is necessary that I figure out what she’s really doing here and how to get rid of her.”
He gestured toward the chair closest to the desk. “Please, sit. I want to hear more about her situation. Perhaps I can be of some help.”
Why was he so kind? Why did he make her feel so safe?
She did as he asked, sitting and clasping her hands together on her lap.
“Mother has clearly done something to offend her benefactor, Mrs. Cline.” Georgiana explained their history and how Mrs. Cline had offered her a place to live.
“I don’t know why Mrs. Cline has been so generous.
Mother always treated her like a maid rather than a trusted friend.
Mother’s love of herself leaves little room for anyone else. ”
“Yes, I confess to noticing that myself.”
“She never forgave Mrs. Cline for marrying well.
Her husband is a good man and also a clever businessman who has done very well for himself, albeit untitled.
Whereas my father was titled but decidedly without cleverness.
In fact, he was weak and irresponsible. Mother never forgave him for not being who she thought he was when they married.
Things only got worse when he proceeded to gamble away any sense of security.
“Mother’s vain and status-conscious above all else.
She wants to be admired and sought after.
Instead, invitations stopped coming to balls and parties.
She was shunned at the park and at social functions.
To have such a public humiliation only made her self-absorption worse.
” She found herself telling him more about their childhood.
How she and her sister had not felt love from either of their parents.
While her father was distracted and distant, their mother was manipulative and controlling.
“She was only happy with us if we did something to make her look good.”
“You and Cecily are very close because you only had each other.”
“That’s correct. My sister is an angel. If not for her, I would not have made it through my childhood.”
“And now you must decide what to do with your mother?” James asked. “With little funds to support her.”
“Especially how she likes to live. Her dresses alone could bankrupt me.”
He tilted his head in that way he did when he was thinking through a problem. “You have too much responsibility. Taking care of your mother and sister. And yet you must.”
“Because they are family. I would do anything for Cecily and she for me. But Mother? She’s frustrating and impossible. Try as I might, I easily lose my temper when I’m with her.”
“Perhaps I spoke too hastily yesterday,” James said. “We can make a room for her here.”
She nearly groaned with dread at the idea of her mother being underfoot day in and day out. “She has this way of making me feel badly about myself. I fear she’ll derail our plans here. Please, I beg of you, do not offer. You will regret it, I can assure you.”
“I understand.” He tapped his index finger against his chin. “What if we were to give her some kind of job. Something to keep her busy enough that she stays out of your way?”
“What would that be? She has no skills. Other than to drive me mad.”
“What are her interests?”
“Clothes and other vanities. Going to parties and balls give her great joy. She’s not invited any longer but when we were children, she was never happier than when she was dressing for a social event.”
“Ah, yes, I’ve got it.” James leaned forward, blue eyes sparkling. “I’ll ask her to plan our first ball. A debut for the manor’s grand reopening.”
Her chest tightened. “No, you shouldn’t. It’s a terrible idea.”
“But why? She’ll be good at it. She knows all the right people to invite, would you not agree?”
“She does keep up with gossip,” Georgiana said, somewhat reluctantly.
“She’ll advise you well in that regard. And she’s actually very talented at planning social events.
Especially now that she has no outlet for such a thing.
But please, you must keep a close watch on her.
She’ll not hesitate to spend your money unwisely.
I wouldn’t put it past her to pocket some for herself if she thinks she can get away with it. ”
“I’ll keep a close watch on the spending. Nothing will be ordered without my approval.”
“Yes, all right. It will keep her occupied, which will mean more peace for me and Cecily. She’s going to be painfully focused on finding Cecily a husband. I shudder to think of the trouble she might cause my sister.”
“In my experience, it is best for women like your mother to have something to focus on, especially if it interests them. I have another idea as well. My need for a gentleman’s wardrobe has been weighing on me.
I fear I’m the opposite of your mother. Anything to do with fashion puts me right to sleep.
But we must admit, I’m rugged looking and in need of help.
What if we were to task her with working with a tailor to put together an entire closet fit for a gentleman? ”
“She does keep up with the latest fashion. I’m loath to admit it, but she would be very helpful in that regard.”
“Yes, and she’ll be flattered that I’m looking to her for advice.”
“She loves being the savior,” Georgiana said. “Even though she’s usually more like the villain.”
“When you see her, ask her to join us for supper. We’ll present these ideas to her.”
Georgiana managed a weak smile. “God help us all.”
*
When they entered their mother’s room at the inn, Lavinia sat draped across the faded settee as if it were a chaise in a Mayfair salon, a silk dressing gown tied loosely at the waist. A tea tray sat untouched on the table beside her, the porcelain cup cooling at her elbow.
“My darlings. At last. I feared you wouldn’t come.”
“We said we would,” Cecily said gently, pulling off her gloves.
Georgiana remained standing, hands folded at her waist. “Mother, what happened at Mrs. Cline’s? She was so generous to offer you a place to live. What did you do to her?”
Lavinia let out a tragic sigh. “Why do you think it’s something I’ve done? You know how other women can be. Jealous. Spiteful. Especially given how I’ve aged compared to her.”
Cecily glanced at Georgiana. “What did you do, Mother? Mrs. Cline is the nicest woman in all of England.”
“She certainly plays that role.” Lavinia gave a brittle laugh. “But you don’t know her as I do.”
Georgiana’s brows lifted. “Go on.”
Lavinia leaned forward slightly, as if letting them in on a secret. “It’s him she should be angry with.”
“Who?” Georgiana asked.
Lavinia rolled her eyes, as if it should be obvious of whom she spoke. “Charles. Caroline’s husband. He behaved very badly and now I’m to blame. It’s devastating to be betrayed in this manner.”
“What are you saying?” Georgiana asked.
“I should preface this to say—Charles Cline has always admired me. Even as a young man, he followed me around like a puppy. Of course I married someone else. And so did he. But old affections? Apparently, they linger.”
“What did he do?” Cecily asked, eyes wide.
“He tried to kiss me, which I absolutely did not want.” Lavinia reached for the teacup but didn’t drink.
“We were alone in the library when he suddenly yanked me to him and planted his mouth right on mine. I pulled away immediately, but not before Caroline walked in and saw enough to draw her own conclusions. Of course she blamed me.”
Georgiana said nothing. Her mother’s tone was too polished, the story too conveniently staged.
“She accused me of trying to steal him,” Lavinia continued. “Me! After everything I’ve done for her.”
“What exactly have you done for her?” Georgiana asked sharply. “The Clines were kind enough to bring you into their home. I’m not sure what you’ve ever done for them.”
A flicker of annoyance passed across Lavinia’s face but only for a moment, just a tiny crack in her composure.
“She lorded it over me too. Day in and day out. As if I weren’t grateful enough. She has always been insecure. Ever since we were girls. She always tried to steal whomever I liked away. I don’t know why she does it, but it’s true.”
Georgiana felt quite sure it was the other way around.
“Anyway, she wouldn’t listen to reason,” Lavinia said with a wan smile. “She flew into an absolute rage. Demanded I leave at once. Which is cruel, seeing as my own daughters don’t want me.”
Cecily shifted uncomfortably. Georgiana watched her mother closely, noting the way her fingers played with the edge of her sash, the way her eyes flicked toward the mirror behind them. She was always aware of herself, even in performance. Or, perhaps, especially in performance.
“What is your plan, Mother?” Georgiana asked. “Because it cannot be living here indefinitely. I’m saving money for Cecily’s Season, not your rent.”
Lavinia gave another sigh, this one practiced to the last breath. “I have nowhere else to go, as you well know. You and Cecily seem quite cozy at the manor. Perhaps Lord Ashford would take me in too? Just until I can get back on my feet.”
“We’re working,” Cecily said. “Not living with him out of charity.”
“He’s been generous to us and I won’t have you taking advantage of him,” Georgiana said, choosing her words carefully. “However, he’s asked if you’d like to join us for supper next week. The dining room will be ready for guests by then.”
“How lovely,” Lavinia said, setting the teacup aside with an audible clink. “He must be interested in our Cecily if he’s inviting me to dine at the manor.”
“He is not interested in me,” Cecily said quickly. “And please, do not interfere or try and matchmake. I would be mortified if you were to do so.”
“As would I,” Georgiana said.
“Fine. I’m only trying to help.” Lavinia sniffed. “But clearly you don’t want it.”