Chapter 4 #2
Sarah’s countenance lit up, and she clapped her hands in delight.
“I know you mock, Colt, but that may be the ultimate answer. It’s my belief that, for all her bravado, Georgina maintains her single lifestyle to protect Mr Pace.
After everything he has been through, I know she considers his needs above her own. We must convince her to settle down.”
“A romantic and fanciful notion, Sarah, but I cannot see George being so sentimental.”
“Georgina has sacrificed her heart so that she might take care of her father. You cannot convince me otherwise. And, whether you meant to, I think you have hit upon the solution.”
A sense of foreboding struck him. He frowned and dragged both hands back through his hair. “You are not to meddle, Sarah.”
“Of course not. A gentle nudging will not go astray, though. Are you attending the Blakes’s ball on Saturday?”
“They have invited me, and if you say I must be there, I would hate to disappoint you.”
Sarah laughed. “Be sure to dance with me, then.”
“I should like that. But what about you? So keen to have Georgina married off. Do you never find yourself lonely, my dear?” He lowered his voice and held her eyes in a flirtatious gaze.
She regarded him, her mouth set in a firm line. “Sometimes, Colt. Not to the extent where I wish to become someone’s fleeting mistress, however. At least, not on their terms.”
Colt gave her a steady look, unblinking. He had never considered her in that light. He thoroughly adored Sarah and would have leapt at the chance to call her his. Sadly, she had never taken him seriously.
Sarah had become a widow five years ago.
Almost twenty years her senior, the late Commander Fortescue had enjoyed a successful military career, most recently earning honours for his bravery at the Battle of Trafalgar.
His precarious vocation, however, was not what had seen an end to him.
The Commander met his fate following a frivolous evening at his club with a few of his cronies.
He had indulged in a few too many libations and, at the close of the evening, drove himself home.
During this drive, he sadly miscalculated the speed of his curricle and pair when taking a rather sharp bend, and the resultant collision killed him instantly.
Following the tragic accident, Colt supported Sarah through her year of mourning.
She naturally grieved for her husband; though it was not a marriage for love, she had grown fond of him.
Soon after dispensing with her mourning blacks, Sarah had settled into the more liberated lifestyle of an attractive young widow, garnering the attention of many eligible gentlemen, including Colt himself.
He cast a protective and often jealous eye over gentlemen callers who attempted to woo her and did not hold back pointing out some defect or other whenever she found favour with one of them.
He waited respectfully, wanting to afford her ample time to grieve, before even attempting to fix his interest with her.
She dismissed his every -attempt. Despite being spurned, he continued to flirt with her over the subsequent years.
He suspected he may even have tempted her once or twice.
To his ongoing frustration, however, she remained steadfast in her resolve to reject his advances.
Not wishing to make his friend feel uncomfortable by his proximity, Colt stood and crossed the room.
“And how would you like to assist our dearest George?”
A slow smile formed on Sarah’s lips. “You will goad her into it, as you always do. Now, let us away to Half Moon Street immediately. We don’t have a moment to lose.”
***
Within half an hour, Jarvis had ushered Colt and Sarah into the front parlour of Georgina’s residence.
Colt assumed a confident pose by the fireplace, leaning his elbow on the solid marble mantle-piece, while Sarah disposed herself on the straw-coloured satin sofa.
An immense portrait of one of the family’s forebears—looking not unlike George, with deep brown curls and mischievous eyes—-towered above them, framed in elaborate giltwood.
A metal grate stood before the fireplace, protecting the Aubusson floor rug from straying embers.
Colt wished he knew what Sarah had in mind.
She had insisted he accompany her, and he obliged, but how she expected him to cajole Miss Georgina Pace into mending her ways, he had no idea.
He maintained his position by the fire for some minutes.
Just as it grew tiresome, the door finally opened to reveal their friend.
He bowed over her hand. “George.” He smiled and placed a light kiss upon her knuckles. “How do you do?”
Seeing his friend after months apart gratified Colt.
She wore riding breeches and a black jacket.
She knotted her cravat indifferently, though presented an excellent figure overall.
It never ceased to amaze Colt how well Georgina looked, whether she wore a resplendent gown at a ball, or mud-specked breeches following a ride.
Georgina excelled at executing a natural—if somewhat unpredictable—-enigmatic style.
Presently, her long dark hair had been tied back carelessly with a ribbon, and the shadows around her eyes suggested she had not benefitted much from sleep of late.
He suspected the gossip he had heard about town may have been accurate.
The thought of her frolicking half-naked around the streets of London made him stifle a smile.
At least the news had not reached Sarah’s ears yet.
Sarah rose and greeted her friend with a warm embrace and a peck on each cheek.
“Sarah. It is good to see you.” Georgina yanked on the bell, summoning service for her guests.
“I spotted your charming father this morning passing by Hatchards, and my excitement that you had returned fairly overthrew me,” Sarah said, her voice abuzz.
“Why did you not write to advise me? Did you enjoy Yorkshire? Will you remain here for the season? I had hoped you would come back now that the Miss Atkins affair is over with.”
Colt chuckled. “You’re hardly giving George a chance to respond, my love.”
“A terrible business,” Georgina said. “I did my best to keep you appraised, but you know I am not much of a letter-writer. And, yes, the plan is for us both to stay awhile. My father prefers town life infinitely more than the country, and he has no patience for running the estate. When we are in Yorkshire, he spends most of the hours visiting neighbors or hunting. It falls to me to attend to the tenants, ensure the farms are operating correctly and negotiate wages.” Georgina gave a little yawn, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Now that we are back, I have high hopes that Papa’s clubs might keep him entertained—”
“We have missed you,” Colt interjected. “London is not the same without you. No madcap stories to amuse one over the breakfast -table.”
Sarah quirked a brow. “And I cannot manage to rein Colt in alone.”
“Colt, have you been making inroads with the latest debutantes? I suspect you mean to gloat over all your successes,” Georgina teased.
Colt gave a sheepish smile. “What a singularly inappropriate suggestion, George. I would never gloat about such matters. However, as you have asked me, I shall only say that a great many beauties have graced London so far this season. Do I pick up a tinge of jealousy?”
Georgina rolled her eyes. “Anyone can seduce young ladies, Colt. It requires much more skill to entice a woman of the world.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are both children.”
Choosing to ignore Sarah, Colt gave Georgina an appreciative smile. “Touché, George. I presume you have learned that Miss Atkins recently married?”
Georgina’s eyes lowered, and her cheeks coloured up. “Indeed, I read about it in The Times. A fortunate outcome for all.”
Colt raised his brows. So Georgina was not immune to societal opinion, after all.
A maid entered at that moment carrying a tray with a pot, three cups, and a small jug of milk. She served them all steaming coffee before leaving them alone again.
“I could remark that I have never fled town because of an enthusiastic ladylove.” Colt took a spoon and stirred it through his cup. “How foolhardy of you. You are better suited to ladies who will not mistake your intentions.” He eyed her in amusement.
Throughout their acquaintance, he had witnessed Georgina -commanding many admirers, young and old, of all presentations.
She could hardly walk down the street without receiving an invitation.
Despite her many options, Georgina was selective with her dalliances, opting for married or widowed ladies who would not require her to come up to scratch.
Colt had no desire to be locked down to one partner. Unless that partner was Sarah.
Georgina occasionally vilified him for his role in corrupting younger, impressionable ladies. She insisted that even the most informed young ladies might see Colt’s aversion to marriage as a challenge to overcome, especially given his charm. But George, too, made her share of missteps.
“It was unwise of me to dally with Miss Atkins—or, I should say now, Lady Ravenscroft,” Georgina admitted.
“Was it worth it?” he inquired, crossing one booted leg over the other.
“Robert!” Sarah said. She shot Georgina a look and shook her head.
“When I realised Prudence took my attention seriously, I withdrew.”
Colt chuckled. “And you retreated to the country. Rather pudding--hearted of you, my girl.”
“There was no other option,” Georgina responded with a huff of indignation. She replaced her cup on the table beside her. “I am not the marrying sort.”
“Georgina, I think you are. Perhaps you have not discovered your lady yet,” Sarah said quickly, sitting upright.
Colt nodded. “I agree.”
“Neither of you would condemn some poor soul to suffer me.”
“She would need to be very special,” Colt said.