Chapter Fourteen #2
Once he’d departed, missive in hand, she immediately regretted having sent it.
What was she doing trying to make peace with a woman who despised her for her foolish behavior?
This would only give her aunt further fuel for her dislike.
If she even allowed them to call on her that was.
Or if she even opened the letter when she realized who it was from.
Most likely she’d just throw it on the nearest fire without reading it.
The reply, however, came within the hour.
Dear Georgiana—she’d used ‘dear’ and her first name—
I shall be pleased to welcome you and your husband tomorrow afternoon at three o’clock precisely.
Cordially,
Miss Patience Frampton
Short and to the point, but at least not thrown in the fireplace. She went in search of Fitz, whom she found in the library, and showed him the letter.
He read it through. “Well, that sounds positive. She is, after all, your only living relative and it would be a sad thing for you to have no further contact with her.”
He was being sensible. And yet…she couldn’t help but quaver. “She is a stickler for manners and perhaps she feels beholden to agree to our visit.”
He shook his head. “Look at it from her position. As much as she is your only living relative, so you are hers. Perhaps your revelation about your condition came as a great shock to her—why wouldn’t it?
She was entrusted with your care by your father and she might well have thought she’d failed in it.
She might be horrified by her own lack of care of you. ”
Georgiana bit her lip. She hadn’t thought of that possibility. He could be right. She took the letter back and read it again. “She does call me by my first name.”
He nodded. “She does. If she wished to shun you entirely she would probably not have even replied. Or if etiquette had seemed to demand that she had to reply, she would have called you simply Mrs.. Carlyon.” He tapped the page. “And she addressed you as ‘dear’.”
“I noticed that.”
“Then we will visit her and hold out the olive branch, shall we not?”
His was the voice of reason. “I suppose so. I would rather be on good terms with her than not.”
He nodded with vigor. “Then that is settled.”
They took the carriage round to Fitzroy Square the following afternoon, paying particular attention to being on time. “My aunt is a stickler for promptness,” Georgiana had confided in Fitz before they left. “And she also doesn’t like guests to turn up earlier than invited.”
So accuracy was called for with this lady. Fitz filed that information away in case it came in useful at a later date.
A light drizzle was falling as they descended from the carriage at their destination, and Fitz noted that Miss Frampton’s butler, who must have been stationed awaiting their arrival, must be as much a stickler for guests being on time as his mistress, for he already had the front door open.
Fitz, ignoring the feeling of trepidation trying to elbow its way into his heart, took Georgiana’s arm and hurried her into the house, not giving her any pause for second thoughts. He had enough of those of his own.
The hallway was not large and the day had rendered it gloomy and in need of extra illumination, but he could see how it was furnished in a somewhat old-fashioned manner, perhaps dating back to when Miss Frampton had been a young woman.
Georgiana greeted the elderly, no, decrepit, butler with a smile. “Good afternoon, Drummond.”
He seemed equally pleased to see her, his rheumy old eyes moist with what might have been unshed tears. “Miss Georgiana, a good afternoon to you, too. Most delightful to welcome you back to your old home. Your aunt is in the blue drawing room.”
Here, at least, was someone who was fond of his new wife.
They followed the doddery old fellow up a dark oak staircase to the first floor, where he opened the door into the drawing room. “Captain and Mrs. Carlyon, Miss Frampton.” And departed.
Aunt Patience was seated bolt upright on what looked like an uncomfortable, high-backed chair that must date from well back in the previous century.
She was, as far as he could tell, a woman of more than average height in possession of hair that might once have been of the same hue as her niece but now was predominantly a dull gray.
Her face was thin and ascetic, with winged brows sweeping across a wide forehead.
A prominent nose resembled the beak of a hawk and thin lips were pressed together in a forbidding expression.
Not the most welcoming reception Fitz had ever received.
And he was used to not being approved of by older ladies.
Fitz made a flamboyant bow. “Miss Frampton.” And by his side, Georgiana effected a curtsey. “Aunt.” Her voice zinged with tension.
Miss Patience Frampton laid the book she’d been reading down on the table beside her and fixed a pair of gimlet eyes on first Georgiana and then Fitz.
He had the distinct impression she could see right through him to his very soul.
“Good afternoon, Captain Carlyon. Georgiana. Won’t you be seated?
” Her voice matched her appearance in being frosty and formal.
A slight tremble in the hand resting in the crook of his left arm alerted Fitz that all was not well with his wife. Without thinking, his free hand went automatically to cover hers as they took a seat together on a chaise longue, Georgiana sitting as bolt upright and tensely as her aunt.
For a long moment, no one said anything.
Fitz decided he’d better break the silence. He prided himself in what one of his old schoolfriends, a young Irishman, had called “the gift of the gab.” “My wife has told me a lot about you, Miss Frampton. You were most kind to take her in after her father died.”
Fingers dug into his arm, but he didn’t look at her. Did she think he was laying the charm on too thickly? Probably.
“It was my duty,” Miss Frampton said. “She had no one else.”
“She’s a credit to you.”
He gave Georgiana’s hand a squeeze, willing her to speak. She needed to break the ice here and return to speaking terms with her aunt. After all, the old lady had invited them here so she must want to do just that with her only living relation. Didn’t she?
Georgiana cleared her throat. “You were indeed very kind to me, Aunt, and I am most grateful. And now that I am married, I would like to invite you to the ball my husband’s sister is holding for us at her house in Cavendish Square. Next week.”
Fitz was watching the old lady’s expression.
Those gimlet eyes had already softened as she gazed at her niece and was that the glimmer of moisture in their corners?
He was generally good at reading people—unless you counted Georgiana—and it didn’t take a genius to pick up that the old lady was unhappy.
Did this childless spinster love her niece like the daughter she’d never had? He rather thought she did.
She pressed her lips together for a moment. “That is very thoughtful of you, Georgiana, but I do not go out to social events, as you know.”
He felt Georgiana sag a little beside him as though defeated.
Fitz to the rescue. “The celebration of our marriage will be a hollow one without my wife’s only relative present.
We would both of us be delighted if you would come, even if only for a short period.
A mere hour or less.” He bestowed the smile he knew to be his most charming on the old lady. A sure way to any woman’s heart.
He was not wrong.
Miss Frampton’s mouth softened into the hint of a smile. Her gaze flicked from Fitz’s face to Georgiana’s and back again. “Perhaps I might come for a short while.”
“Splendid,” Fitz declared, determined not to let her change her mind. “You will be our most honored guest, as my dear wife’s father is obviously unable to attend. And I will of course demand a dance from you.”
Miss Frampton bridled, for a moment resembling the coy young lady she must once have been.
“Oh no, Captain Carlyon, I fear I must disappoint you. I have not danced in the last forty years or more and don’t intend to do it now.
” But from the look of pleasure in her once hard eyes, it was not going to be an outright refusal.
He smiled at her again and was rewarded by the color that rose to her pale cheeks. “I will not take no for an answer, Miss Frampton. It would be my honor to lead you onto the dance floor.”
Not many women existed who could resist his charms when he put himself out to exert them.
Georgiana was in a company of zero other women.
Only of course, he would dance with her as well.
The thought of holding her in his arms in a waltz was more intoxicating than he’d expected and a shiver ran through him.
Miss Frampton cleared her throat. “I will consider it, Captain Carlyon.”
So that was a yes.
Georgiana’s head turned, her eyes wide perhaps at his success with her aunt, and he pulled himself together in a hurry and gave her the same smile he’d given the old lady. Let her be as easily won over as her aunt, please.
But she wasn’t. He had a feeling it was going to take a lot more than a charming smile to persuade her into his bed.