Page 96 of Ladies in Hating
There was a heartbeat of silence. Georgiana bit down hard on her lower lip, and her eyes searched the contours of Cat’s face.
But Cat only smiled a little, slow and bittersweet. “We lost my father in 1817. But he remembered you and your brother fondly all his life.”
The lines that bracketed Ambrose’s mouth deepened. “I am so sorry to hear that. For many reasons.”
“Ambrose,” Georgiana said, recalling his gaze back to her. “We’ve come on a matter of some urgency. Cat’s—Miss Lacey’s—” She broke off, flustered for a moment, a hint of fear creeping back in. What would Ambrose think, if he knew?
But then she thought of Ambrose’s hand trailing down his wife’s arm, all love and reluctance to break away.
One more plunge—one more opportunity for courage. She reached out and placed her hand in the dip of Cat’s waist, drawing her close. “Cat’s brother, James, is missing. And we have reason to believe that he’s here in Wiltshire.”
“Missing?” Ambrose’s expression sharpened. “My God, Georgie. Come into the sitting room and tell us everything. And—dash it—I haven’t even introduced you to Noor.”
He turned back toward his wife, as unerring as a compass. He did not seem to have noticed Georgiana’s familiar embrace of the woman at her side.
Georgiana felt a sudden twist of amusement, somewhere buried deep beneath her fear and urgency. How brave she’d thought herself, just then!
She would have to try another time to tell Ambrose about her feelings for Cat. Be more forthright. She could do it.
But as they passed into the sitting room, Percy caught her eye, glanced deliberately down at her hand on Cat’s waist, and winked.
Acceptance. Home.
She could not have imagined that such a thing could exist here at Woodcote. She had not even realized until now how desperately she’d craved it.
In the sitting room, they quickly exchanged introductions. Noor made to ring for tea, only to realize that Edith had already done so.
“Oh,” Edith said, and there was that hesitation again. Georgiana had almost forgotten the tentative rhythm her speech had held, when they’d lived here at Woodcote. “I’m so sorry. Force of habit, I suppose.”
Noor grinned up at her, her winsome prettiness magnified by a pair of dimples in her cheeks. “Don’t you dare apologize again.” She laid a hand across the prodigious swell of her belly. “Or our daughter will think I have not made you welcome.”
“Can’t have that,” Percy said, and filched a biscuit from the tea tray. “Can she hear in there, do you think?”
“Please, Percy, do not speak whilst you are mid-mastication,” Ambrose said, and it was all so familiar that Georgiana had to fight back the hot press of tears.
They arrayed themselves on the various chairs and sofas—all new, Georgiana noticed, a bright white-and-blue chintz—and as briefly as she could, Georgiana related the events of the last two days.
“By Jove,” Percy said when she’d finished, “Fawkesturned you out on your ear? I can’t imagine it.”
“You know him?” Cat asked. Her voice was urgent, and Georgiana groped for her hand where it rested on Bacon’s flank.
“Oh, certainly. Fawkes and I were at school together. I can’t believe he’d close the door in your face, George.”
“He didn’t,” Georgiana said. “It was his housekeeper, I think.”
Percy’s face went knowing. “That explains it then. Amber chucked a toad through one of the windows once when we were lads. Landed on her cap.”
Ambrose pinched the bridge of his nose. “As much as it pains me to admit it, I agree with Percy. Fawkes must have been out. He would never have expelled you from the premises if he’d known you were there. He’s a good fellow. Trying to set right the mess his father left behind.”
“Do you think you could take us there?” Georgiana asked. “Back to the estate, I mean—to meet with Fawkes directly. To find out if he’s seen Jem.”
“Don’t bring any toads,” Percy added.
Ambrose ignored him. “I could, of course. I can have the carriage brought round in half a minute. But…” He hesitated. “I wonder… I don’t know for certain. But I wonder if Fawkes was not at home because he’s over at Renwick House.”
The silence that fell was so tense and charged that Bacon put his head up to whimper lightly at the assembled company.
“Renwick House?” Cat repeated. “I don’t understand. Why would the Duke of Fawkes be at Renwick House?”
