Chapter 39
The following morning, Georgina awoke early and invigorated.
Whilst she yearned for Elizabeth, the previous evening with Prudence had opened her eyes.
She thought it would be easy to bed Prudence from a sense of retaliation, using the lady as a balm for her anger.
Yet, she had recoiled from Prudence’s touches.
She had even struggled not to be physically ill in the aftermath.
She only wanted Elizabeth. And if she could not have Elizabeth, she wanted her dignity.
After some breakfast, Georgina made her way to Brooks’s.
She usually ventured to this fashionable private club when she wished to avoid the incessant gossip circulating through the local tearooms, or when she meant to remain sober.
She delighted in conversing with the Lords, Ladies and Peers of the House and did not cower from political debates.
Spying her old acquaintance, Frederica, Duchess of York, and her friend, Mr Beau Brummell, engaged in laughing conversation, she approached them and gave a slight bow.
“This is rather early for you to be abroad, Mr Brummell,” Georgina teased.
“I could not agree more, Miss Pace. I was obliged to curtail my dressing this morning. This damnable woman urged me to meet her here with all haste. I feared a national emergency,” he declared with a sigh.
The Duchess grinned. “And in truth, I merely wished his opinion on my latest hat.”
“A national emergency,” Georgina agreed. She excused herself when she spotted Edmund beckoning her over to him. Georgina joined him with an affectionate smile.
“How can you talk to him so easily, George?” He looked over at Brummell in awe and wonderment. “He is the most admired man in town.”
Georgina knew Mr Brummell to be an interesting fellow, though she also understood he was rather rude when he wanted to be. She owned he looked well and always presented himself to an exceptional standard, but she did not think he merited special reverence.
She gave a shrug. “I cannot tell what all the fuss is about, Edmund. He is, after all, just a man.”
He pouted. “One can tell you do not hold to dandyism!”
“That is true,” Georgina agreed, unhurt. They sat down opposite each other in two oversized leather wing chairs. “How have you been? Have you discovered a new beau yet?”
“I mean to avoid romantic intrigues for a time. I must heal.”
Georgina, unaccustomed to Edmund making sensible statements, blinked in surprise, and agreed this was a welcome decision.
“Arthur thinks so too. Says I make life unnecessarily difficult.”
“Arthur is wise,” Georgina replied. She immediately warmed as she thought about Arthur. “How does he go on?”
“Much better, now that he is no longer in the clutches of Mrs Gardner. Lady Maggie accepted his proposal. He is excessively happy. All thanks to you. Mighty sorry for involving you, my dear,” Edmund said with heartfelt remorse. “Hopefully, they will not reinstate those parties anytime soon.”
Georgina stiffened. “Mrs Gardner is a fiend. I wish they imprisoned her as well,” she expostulated, with a little more feeling than she intended to show.
Edmund arched an eyebrow at her. “That might be doing it a bit too brown, old girl. I believe she provided vital testimonial evidence against Ellis and Montgomery, allowing all the charges to be secured.”
This took the wind out of Georgina’s sails somewhat. “Generous of her, I am sure. Though she continues to try to make her way in the world corruptly. She attempted to blackmail me yesterday.”
“I daresay it must be challenging for her to get by, now that Lady Mortimer closed the house.”
Georgina frowned. “You have known about their relationship?”
“Well, yes,” Edmund replied. “There was no secret in that, George.”
In annoyance, Georgina sat back in the chair and locked her arms across her chest. Clearly, she was the only one oblivious to the nature of their connection.
“Very kind of her ladyship too,” Edmund said, dusting a speck of lint from his coat.
Georgina gave him a stony look. “Kind?”
“I believe Mrs Gardner once did a good turn for the Dowager, Lady Mortimer’s mother.
Saved her from a bolting horse or some such thing.
But she was living in a poorhouse at the time, you see.
When Lady Mortimer located her to thank her after the incident, she found her rather unwell with a chill. They do not heat those places, George.”
A sinking feeling crept over Georgina.
“The Dowager then owed her life to Mrs Gardner, yet Mrs Gardner was in a mighty bad way, by all accounts. Very unwell. She may have died if not for the Countess intervening.”
Georgina felt the blood drain from her face.
“Her ladyship took her home and restored her to health. Then she set about compensating her for her kindness to her mother. She leased the house for her. Mrs Gardner has Lady Mortimer to thank for her rising to the fringes of society.” He smiled and patted her hand.
“Though I do not think her ladyship ever expected that Mrs Gardner would establish a gaming house. That occurred over time—and only thanks to Ellis and Montgomery.”
Georgina listened to his words with increasing alarm. “I assumed Lady Mortimer was romantically involved with Mrs Gardner, and possibly a sponsor of Solitaires.”
He screwed up his face. “No, no. The blunt came from Ellis and Montgomery. They were always the ones to watch.” Edmund leaned closer to maintain discretion.
“Word has it, they were nursing some sensitive information about Mrs Gardner and used that as leverage. Any time she tried to step away, they applied pressure, and she had to toe the line.”
Georgina’s throat constricted. “But is Mrs Gardner not Lady Mortimer’s mistress?”
“Most certainly not. Her charge, more like. Friendly but not intimate,” he said with the conviction of a skillful gossip.
“I daresay she did what she could to break her away from Ellis and Montgomery. A lost cause, though, once one is in their grip.” He looked down at his own hands that twisted together unconsciously. “We discovered that firsthand.”
She buried her face with her hands. “Good God, I’ve made a dreadful mistake.”
“Having made my fair share of those, I daresay you will come about again quickly, George,” he consoled her. Edmund, who was insensitive at his best and outright foolish at his worst, disregarded her apparent distress and demanded whether she might introduce him to his idol, Mr Brummell.
“Talk to him yourself, Edmund,” she snapped. “I’m off.”
***
Outside Brooks’s, Georgina retrieved Artemis and galloped recklessly back to Half Moon Street, heedless of the curious eyes watching her dart at breakneck speed between the carriages crowding the road.
Buckby sprang up and seized the reins as she slid from the saddle.
Without even a word of thanks, she strode up the front stairs and into the house.
Once inside, and without a clear purpose in mind, Georgina ascended the stairs two at a time. Halfway down the hall, she opened the door to one of the rooms. It creaked, softly inviting her inside. She closed the door behind her with a click.
A few shards of light splintered in from the closed window. Flecks of dust danced in the air where the sunlight played before disappearing into the shadows. A familiar tightness gripped her chest.
Henry’s bed towered against one wall. His valet had turned the coverlet down eight years ago, but the bed had remained un-slept in. The room no longer smelled like her brother.
She wandered to his dressing table and leaned against it.
His gilt-handled hairbrush rested where he left it to her right.
If she looked closely, she could see a few of his fine, dark hairs threaded into the bristles.
How soft his hair had been. A ruby cravat pin dulled by a heavy layer of dust sat beside a few coins, a silver letter-opener, and an engraved snuffbox.
The attendants had been instructed to leave the room intact.
Georgina traced a pattern in the dust with her finger. “If Elizabeth had let me close to her, I would have only hurt her, anyway.” She paused, the bridge of her nose stinging. “I let people down, Henry. I did not look after you.”
Her eyes fell on the pair of spectacles that sat open on the dresser. They had been bent slightly and no longer sat flush against the wood. The authorities had returned them after it happened.
“I should have been with you, Henry. My heart tore into a thousand shards that night, and I will never stop trying to put them back together. But you are gone, and it was my fault.” She thumped her hand down on the dresser, and everything rattled. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
She paused, as if listening.
“Of course, that’s it. You’re right. You told me to always say sorry. This should be no exception. I need to see her. I must apologise for believing the worst in her, for not trusting her. I must at least say sorry. She deserves that.”
Brushing her tears away, Georgina straightened and left the room.
***
As she arrived at the beautiful town house in Grosvenor Square, a stableboy came to hold the horse.
Georgina asked him to walk Artemis for her and pressed a copper into his hand for his efforts.
She had not rehearsed her words, and she had no desire to absolve herself of any wrongdoing.
Georgina simply wished to atone for the unfair things she had uttered to Elizabeth in her fury-driven rage.
As she hurried up the front stairs, a butler greeted her, regal in his manners.
He advised her that Lady Mortimer had been away from London for three days, and he did not know when she would be returning.
Georgina sighed. Forgetting her whereabouts for a moment, she shrouded her face with her hands, trying to source some mystical solution to her difficulties. About to turn on her heel, she heard a soft voice from behind the butler.