Chapter 34
Outside Mem Lavigne’s establishment in Pall Mall, Colt climbed down from his high-perch phaeton and stopped for a moment to hand the reins over to his groom.
Despite Sarah’s intuition that Georgina could be found at her club, Colt took a brief detour via Half Moon Street, where Jarvis confirmed that Miss Pace had not been at home in at least two days.
Leaning towards his lordship confidentially, Jarvis suggested he might try his luck at Miss Pace’s regular club, noting it would be good to have the mistress back, as she had a small mountain of important correspondence awaiting her.
Colt thanked him for the guidance and set forth at once.
A maid escorted him up the narrow stairwell, parting the heavy brocade drapes that shrouded the main parlour, and allowed him to enter.
Colt’s keen eyes scanned the room. During evening hours, Mem Lavigne’s patrons usually spilled from the chamber; however, as it was before noon, the parlour was sparsely occupied.
A young man perched on a velvet stool on a small stage strummed lazily on his lute, while he gazed without too much interest in his surroundings.
A feminine voice giggled from within one of the curtained--off alcoves, while a young lorian played whist with a scantily dressed lady.
Mem Lavigne themself was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Georgina.
An attendant with a brawny physique revealed by the loose robe that opened over his breeches approached him with a reverent bow.
“Lord Coulthurst, is it not? We are honoured to have you. How might we pleasure you today? Do you come for gaming, sustenance or company?” he asked in a low, drawling voice.
“We have someone for every taste, although I should very much like to take care of your needs.”
“Very charming of you, I am sure. But I am seeking my friend, Miss Pace. Is she here?”
Recognition flooded his countenance, together with a curious twist of his mouth. “Ah, indeed, Miss Pace. Yes, she is here, somewhere.” He peered over his shoulder. “Might I prevail upon my lord to enjoy some refreshments while I ascertain her location?”
Colt’s eyes narrowed. “You needn’t fob me off, lad. Is she disguised?” He wondered how drunk his friend might be after one or two days lost within the murky halls of Mem Lavigne’s den.
“After a fashion.” He threaded his way through the tables to the back of the parlour. He pushed aside the curtain and allowed Colt to step past him.
Georgina, clad in a white shirt and taut gray-coloured breeches, lay sprawled face-down on the daybed. A tangle of black curls clustered about her head, and one arm fell lifelessly off the side, her -fingertips grazing the Aubusson rug.
A girl with strawberry-blonde locks, whom Colt knew from prior visits to be called Lottie, sat nearby, eating a ripe peach.
“How long has she been like this?” Colt inquired, crouching down beside Georgina.
Lottie wiped peach juice from her chin with the back of her wrist. “On and off for a day or so. She’s been peevish since she got here.
In a right surly mood, if you ask me. Not fancying anything, except her wine.
Not even a cuddle!” Lottie took another bite of her peach.
She leaned towards Colt and said in an undertone, “Mem said they -haven’t seen her like this since Mr Henry died. ”
Colt’s frown deepened. He looked towards the attendant who had stayed nearby, keen to offer service. “Can you please fetch me some coffee and fresh water? And if we might also have some bread and butter. Thank you.”
The attendant bowed and disappeared back through the curtains.
Pushing back a black tendril that had fallen across Georgina’s face, Colt shook her shoulder gently. “Good morning, my friend. It’s time to wake up.”
Georgina stirred, fluttering her eyes open. They rolled backwards almost instantly.
“Come now, George. This will not do,” he said, more firmly this time.
With a large breath, Georgina pried open her eyes and took a moment to focus on his face. She groaned, and with Colt supporting one elbow, clambered up. One side of her pale face had the clear imprint of the ribbing from the cushion that she had lain on. Georgina rubbed her cheek.
The coffee soon arrived, and Colt dismissed both Lottie and the young attendant, reassuring them that he would restore Miss Pace to her former glory in no time.
“Is this how you have spent all of your time since the duel?” he demanded, after Georgina had ingested two steaming cups of coffee and a glass of water and grudgingly swallowed a slice of bread.
She shrugged. “Only some of it. I am afraid I am simply not the best company at present, Colt.”
“Only Leggy came to check on me during my convalescence, damn it.”
She dropped her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I have been an unworthy friend.”
“Not unworthy.” He softened, patting her leg affectionately. “Merely broken. Tell me, did you closet yourself away here before the news of Solitaires broke or after?”
“News? I presume the Runners invaded their citadel at last?”
He nodded.
“I only want to know one thing. What of Ellis and Montgomery?”
Colt smiled. “Locked away.” At last, he might deliver some happy tidings to her. “And amongst many other things, they have been indicted for the historical murder of one Mr Henry Pace.”
Oh, he was wrong to think she’d like to hear this in her state. Georgina’s lips quivered, and her face contorted. She burst into tears, throwing her arms around him and weeping without restraint into his chest. He had never known her to let it out this way, not even at Henry’s funeral.
Grateful for the relative privacy of their enclosure, Colt stroked over her back and made soft hushing noises. He should have brought Sarah. She would know what to say.
“I am proud of you, George. Throughout it all, I became scared for you, that something terrible might happen, and I kept counselling you to be conservative. But I misjudged you. You single-handedly toppled this enterprise and obtained justice for your brother. You are inspiring, George.”
Colt had hoped his small acknowledgement might serve to soothe her sobs, but it only seemed to exacerbate the situation. He sighed.
After a significant time had lapsed—after Georgina’s tears had dried, and she managed to engage again in conversation—Colt decided it was time to bring her further news.
He inhaled deeply, assembling the courage. Aside from Sarah, George was his closest companion, and her opinion mattered to him. They had never discussed his affection for Sarah. It was understood but never explicitly mentioned.
“I proposed to Sarah.”
Georgina almost choked on a sip of coffee. Her third cup. She dabbed at her mouth with a serviette. “You proposed?”
“Rather unfathomable, I grant.”
“Only that you would propose to anyone. You have always been in love with Sarah.”
“She seems to be the last one to know that.”
Georgina grabbed his hand. “And how did she respond?”
“She said she needed time.” His shoulders slumped. The longer Sarah made him wait, the less hopeful he felt.
Georgina sat back and stretched out her legs. Someone had removed her shoes and placed them out of sight, so she stared at her stockinged feet. “I am both surprised and delighted by this news. But I confess I am, in equal measure, perturbed by it.”
Colt frowned. He suspected Georgina might censure him. Lottie was right; she was surly.
“You see, if she marries you, and everything progresses well, then we shall all be happy. If, however, you have not reformed, and you break her heart, I shall invariably lose a friendship.”
“She would not require you to disown me as a friend.”
Georgina’s bright blue gaze flashed. “But I would. You cannot hurt her, Colt.”
He accepted this with a calm resolution he had not previously known. “I understand this is what you would have to do. You are the very best of friends. But I will not hurt her.” Sarah had become his priority.
They retreated to silence, and he watched her stare vacantly across the table.
“What of your priggish Lady Mortimer? I saw her name in the newspaper, associated with Solitaires. She cannot have enjoyed that.” He noticed Georgina stiffen. “For your sake, I hope she was not involved in the enterprise.”
“She was not arrested too?”
He shook his head and saw Georgina relax.
“There is nothing more to tell you. I failed in securing Arthur’s actual IOUs—debt or no debt, the young man wanted nothing more than his papers back in his hands.
He must be thoroughly beside himself, still wanting for proof that the ordeal has ended.
As for Elizabeth, she vowed to set all to rights, yet I have heard nothing. ”
“But George, you have hidden yourself away here. How would you know? Jarvis told me you had a pile of correspondence awaiting you at home. Now that your father has set forth to Yorkshire, Jarvis does not know what to do with all the messages.”
Georgina peeked up at him from beneath hooded lids.
Colt sighed, recognising the stubborn dimple in her chin that suggested a disinclination to discuss the subject further.
He nudged the coffee cup towards her and navigated the subject back to how he intended on persuading Sarah to trust him.
Georgina’s troubles were far beyond his abilities.