Chapter 18 #2
Joshua beamed up at Elizabeth and agreed most readily to her proposal, thanking his stars that he came across such fine ladies.
Georgina could not help but smile at the pure relief on his little face. He had likely never been given such an opportunity, and extending kindness to him now had the potential to change his life. She looked over his head at Elizabeth, her eyes twinkling in appreciation.
Elizabeth gazed serenely back at her.
Climbing down from the carriage, Georgina opened her mouth to say ‘goodbye,’ when Elizabeth instructed Joshua, “Down you hop, my boy. This is your new home. Miss Pace shall take care of your needs from now on.”
Georgina’s mouth dropped open. She glared up at Elizabeth, who smiled at her.
“Consider this your first project, Georgina. Rather apt that he is a thief.”
Georgina’s breath hitched in her throat, and she made a slight choking sound, perhaps a laugh combined with a yelp.
By now, Joshua had clambered down to Georgina’s side. He raised his eyes to meet hers.
Georgina hesitated. Elizabeth could not fathom what she was asking of her.
Georgina was no fit guardian for a child.
Or anyone. That had been proven eight years ago.
She took a nervous step backwards and plunged her hands into her pockets, feeling for her fob watch.
“Most comical, my lady. Though I do believe your track record of supporting those in need is much better than mine.” Georgina now fixed an imploring gaze on Elizabeth.
Elizabeth regarded her with a kind smile. She was no longer teasing. “Give yourself a chance. You will do well.”
Georgina reluctantly nodded and hoped her friend was right. She did not want to let this little fellow down. She glanced at him again and met his stare of complete trust. The poetry of the situation was perfect. Damn Elizabeth.
A moment later, the phaeton lurched forward, leaving the unlikely pair standing in the street.
“Come along then, Joshua,” Georgina said in a crisp tone. “I shall introduce you to my butler and housekeeper. They will be in charge. Do you understand?”
Jarvis accepted the new arrival with surprising affability. Georgina could not discern any censure in his haughty countenance.
“He needs something to eat. Some milk or lemonade. And then a bath.” She paused, realising how poorly equipped she was to understand the needs of a young child.
“Perhaps a maid or footman can get him some clothes as well. A black livery for when he is working. And extra shirts, breeches, shoes, undergarments, some toys …” Her voice tapered off.
“I’ll leave it to your excellent judgment.
I suppose he will also need some instruction. Perhaps advertise for a tutor?”
Without a further word, Georgina hurried to her library and closed the door behind her. This day had not turned out as she had thought it would.
***
The musty smell of old paper hung in the air as rows of cloth- and leather-bound volumes crowded the shelves.
Heavy damask curtains, held open by gold cord, framed the window that overlooked the street below.
As the rain held off, Georgina opted to leave the window open to enjoy some fresh air and the gentle bustling noise from the road.
Removing her hat and gloves and tossing them on the sofa, Georgina poured herself a large brandy and collapsed back on an armchair set closest to the flickering fireplace.
Elizabeth had much to answer for. It was unacceptable to impose a new charge upon a household in such an overbearing manner.
She had given no consideration for the potential inconvenience it would have on Georgina or her father.
Georgina took a sip and savoured the liquid in her mouth, enjoying the tickle of the alcohol on her palette before she swallowed.
The warmth of the drink spread through Georgina’s body as she took another slow sip and considered her other project, that of Arthur’s IOUs.
Elizabeth, whatever her role turned out to be in this affair at Solitaires, complicated matters.
She now knew Georgina had stolen the faro box from Mrs Gardner and yet had not recoiled from her.
If anything, their bond had only strengthened.
Elizabeth intrigued her, like a tantalising book she simply could not put down.
Georgina felt compelled to turn the page, wanting to know more about her, though dreading the inevitable moment when she must lay the book aside.
She held another warm swallow in her mouth for a moment, her mind going in many directions.
A book. With a burst of energy, Georgina leapt up from the chair and hurried over to the shelves.
Within moments, she spotted what she was searching for.
It was called The Maidens’ Tryst by Mrs Jane Goodchild.
Not a thick volume, its worn cover suggested someone had read it often.
Georgina took it to her bureau and sat down to craft a carefully worded letter.
Dear Elizabeth,
Thank you for the educational trip to the Royal Academy today. I am also grateful for the opportunity to better myself by accepting Joshua into my household.
Though we established I am no lover of art, I do greatly appreciate reading. I have enclosed one of my favourite novels, which I think you might enjoy.
Also, would you do me the honour of joining me at the Vauxhall masquerade at the end of the week? An excellent opportunity to compromise you, I think.
Yours, etc.
Georgina
She dispatched this message and the book to Grosvenor Square and settled down to wait for the reply.
Elizabeth did not make her linger for a response. A return messenger arrived just before dinner.
Georgina, who was about to lead her father into the dining-room, snatched the missive off the tray with fervour.
Her father regarded her with an inquisitive look. “Are you expecting some urgent correspondence, Georgina?”
Not wishing to draw undue attention, Georgina stuffed the unopened letter into her pocket and determined to wait until after dinner to read it.
“How are Lord Coulthurst and Mrs Fortescue? They have not been loitering about the place as much as they used to,” Silas asked, as they enjoyed a delicious repast laid out before them.
“They are unchanged. Sarah continues to pine for love, while Colt is a rogue towards every young lady in his path.” Georgina shrugged.
“And have you heard from that young lady who caused you a headache in Cornwall?” He was paying a lot of attention to his dinner plate.
Georgina grinned at his attempts at discretion. “I appreciate your delicate phrasing. Indeed, I have heard from her several times. She has sent me messages, left me her card, attempted to find me at assorted clubs, and we have danced at a ball.”
The fork slipped from Silas’s fingers with a clatter. He picked it up quickly. “A most eager girl.”
“She would benefit from a little discretion, yes.”
He resumed eating. “And how is Edmund?”
This drew a sigh from her. “Lovelorn, of course. And extremely careless.”
“Keep an eye on him, my love. His parents will expect you to.”
Georgina clenched the serviette on her lap. “I am doing my best, Papa,” she assured him. Had Edmund’s parents perhaps performed their duty more thoroughly and educated him in the ways of the world, she would not presently be in this untenable situation.
“So, tell me about this little fellow we have downstairs? James, is it?”
“Joshua. He is our new … page—house boy. Whatever we need him to be, really.”
Silas scratched his chin. “Did we need him?”
“Well, naturally we did, Papa,” Georgina replied. “Or he would not be here.” Explaining Joshua’s arrival was difficult enough without bringing up Elizabeth.
He shrugged and chatted about other members of the ton he had seen since returning to town at the start of the week, and Georgina’s thoughts drifted back to the letter concealed in her pocket.
Finally, when Silas departed for his evening’s engagement at the theater and Georgina retired to her library, she had a moment alone.
She pulled the note from her pocket, snapped the wafer open, and her eyes tracked the handful of words on the page.
Dear Georgina,
Thank you for the novel. I shall be sure to read it. Also, I would be honoured to join you at Vauxhall. I shall meet you there.
Warmest regards,
Elizabeth
Georgina released an audible sigh. After building up such anticipation throughout the evening, this brief letter proved rather deflating. At least she had secured Elizabeth’s pledge to join her at the masquerade.
She thought back to the book she had sent Elizabeth, and a roguish smile grew across her face.
The tale captured a modern love story about two star-crossed damsels.
The passionate and rather descriptive language and imagery used to depict intimacy would make even the most open-minded reader blush.
Georgina had handpicked a novel intended to arouse the reader—one almost impossible to set aside.
Let Lady Mortimer try to resist her now.
***
As Georgina lay in her own bed that night, her room dark aside from the glowing embers that flickered in the fireplace, her thoughts drifted again to Elizabeth.
Georgina prided herself on her independent spirit and her ability to detach emotionally from those she dallied with.
Yet, she struggled to displace Elizabeth from her consciousness.
Georgina could not deny her growing attraction.
As a velina, Elizabeth possessed many feminine traits, without being typically -female.
Aside from her comely countenance and bright eyes that twinkled responsively when Georgina teased her, Elizabeth exuded knowledge, wisdom, and intelligence.
She displayed a fierce sense of honour, along with vast interests and charitable pursuits.
It made no sense for Georgina to like someone so terribly worthy.
Georgina rolled onto her side. To find herself seeking opportunities to flirt with Elizabeth came as quite a surprise to her.
Elizabeth was a woman of the world, but she also showed a level of reserve in her dealings.
She indulged Georgina’s dalliance but did not initiate flirtation herself.
Elizabeth did not shy away from Georgina, nor did she pursue her. She was impenetrable.
Naturally, Georgina mused, her own intentions were playful, and she had no desire to become seriously entangled with Elizabeth. Though, she admitted the notion of becoming physically involved with Elizabeth grew more appealing with every day.
She had been deliberately provocative in sending Elizabeth the book. Georgina wanted to convey her interest explicitly and wondered how far she would have to go before Elizabeth laid her own cards down.
Georgina rolled on to her back and stared up at the canopy of her four-poster bed. With a sigh, she slid her nightdress up to her hips and moved one hand beneath the covers, down the curves of her body. She began stroking herself, slowly at first, then rhythmically, dipping inside.
Memories of Elizabeth’s arms, strong but slender, flashed in Georgina’s mind.
It was not just the shape of those arms—though heaven knew that had been enough to unravel her—it was the way they moved.
The way Elizabeth’s forearms tensed subtly when she reached for something, a hint of power beneath their elegance.
The way her fingers drummed absently on a tabletop or twisted a lock of hair while she thought.
Or the way the early afternoon sun had caught on the fine down of her pale skin, turning it to gold, when they had driven away from Gunter’s that afternoon.
Georgina could still remember the restraint it took not to reach out that day, not to run her hand along the curve of the woman’s arm. It had been a passing moment, on an ordinary afternoon, but she had not been able to shake it from her memory.
Now, thanks to Elizabeth, the intoxicating smell of orange blossom would forever drive her to distraction.
Georgina clenched her eyes tightly shut.
She imagined Elizabeth with her, touching her, tasting her, and she could feel her pleasure build.
Picturing their bodies intertwined, Georgina writhed on the bed, her movements faster and more urgent.
Her free hand gripped the cool sheets desperately, and she arched her back, crying out as waves of ecstasy washed over her and her body pulsed around her fingers.
For some minutes, every breath quivered as her satisfaction rippled through her.
This was the first time she had pleasured herself while holding the enigmatic Elizabeth in her thoughts.
She smiled sleepily and wondered again what Elizabeth would think of the novel she had sent. Then, at last, she slept.