Page 6 of Georgiana
“Such a shame. You had natural talent.”
Of the three girls, Mary excelled and had shown an uncanny ability to hit the target at various distances causing Richard to declare that if Napoleon didn’t surrender, he would escort Mary to Paris himself and let her deal with the little man.
Often, Georgiana privately wondered if anything would ever blossom from their quirky friendship, but Mary had returned to Longbourn and Richard to his flirtatious ways. As far as she could tell, there didn’t seem to be a spark of interest in her cousin’s mien.
For the next week and a half Georgiana was busy with fittings and a mad social whirl of afternoon teas, musicales and plays. By the end of the second week she could barely hold her head up and began to nod off at supper.
“Fitz, I don’t want to seem ungrateful to Aunt Lucinda, she’s done so much, but Georgiana and I are exhausted.” Lizzy cast a sympathetic glance toward her. “We are not used to Town hours and I refuse to go out this evening. Do you think Lady Fosscroft would mind so much if we missed her poetry reading?”
Georgiana roused herself enough to murmur, “I truly don’t mind−” and hid a huge yawn behind her hand. She smiled, feeling a bit sheepish. “I am tired, but I also do not want to disappoint our aunt.”
“Let us continue this discussion in the family sitting room.” Fitz signaled the footman to begin clearing the table. “I will send our regrets to Aunt Lucinda.”
“Thank you, brother,” Georgiana impulsively took one of his hands in hers and pressed it to her cheek. “You always know how to make me feel more comfortable.” To Lizzy she said, “Shall we put on our dressing gowns and have a nice cup of hot chocolate before retiring?”
“That sounds divine, Georgie. It will make us feel like we are back at Pemberley.”
“I shall meet you in the sitting room in a half hour.”
Three weeks later
Max was seated in a very comfortable chair at White’s, a snifter of brandy in his hand. Across from him, sprawled out in his usual, careless way was his newly married brother George and next to him sat Nathan.
“I have to say, after the last month or two, this is a much-deserved respite.” Nathan said.
Max silently agreed. The past month had been hectic, what with George and Catherine’s wedding and the mad rush to prepare all the ladies for their curtsy before the Queen. Truth be told, he hadn’t seen his mother so animated in years. He felt a twinge of guilt. As eldest, he should have maintained some form of entertaining, but that would have opened up a completely different kettle of worms in the form of advanced matchmaking by the matriarch of the family.
“Speak for yourself, brother.” George grumbled. “I had to leave my new wife of two weeks to come here and she is much better company than you two clods.”
“How is Catherine faring since the wedding?” Max asked.
“She fares very well.” The smile that lit up his brother’s face told him more than words ever could. “She is nervous about her upcoming curtsy, but having Caroline, Elizabeth and Miss Darcy alongside eases her disquiet.”
“Given what the two of you have been through, a curtsy before Her Majesty will be nothing more arduous than a walk in the park.”
“I know my Catherine can do anything, but she’s still a young woman finding her way in Society. At times it can be overwhelming.”
“Mother adores her and no one would ever cut her direct.” Max said. “Their bond was solidified when Mother and Mr. Bennet sat down and shared memories of Father.”
“The Lord has a wonderful way of bringing people together,” Nathan mused. “If Darcy hadn’t gone to Hertfordshire in support of a friend, he’d never have met Lizzy, then I would never have met Caroline and George would never have met Catherine. This was all pre-ordained by God.”
“I will add a hearty amen to that,” George said. “His ways are not ours and I am much appreciative of His ways.” George turned his attention to Max. “What of you, Max? Is this the year you choose a wife? Mother said there are some lovely girls making their debut this year and as a young Duke with a fine estate, you will have your pick.”
“I am not rushing to the alter. I wish to marry someone I can respect and love.”
“I thought at one time you would offer for Lady Celeste. You were quite inseparable and then – poof – she no longer came around.”
“She departed for relatives in Scotland, I believe.” He fought the urge to squirm in his chair. Memories of Lady Celeste Townsend were not pleasant ones.
“She married a successful attorney, if I remember correctly,” Nathan mused. “I guess she got tired of waiting for you to propose.”
“I never intended to propose to Lady Celeste. She was an amiable companion and that was all.”
“Don’t get your cravat all twisted over this. Everyone knew she’d set her cap at you,” George teased.
Max refused to comment and keep the conversation going. No one but their deceased father knew the perfidy of Lady Celeste. During a house party hosted by his parents at Adborough Hall, Lady Celeste and her parents were one of the many guests. Max had joined his father in the library to discuss estate business. Something they often did before retiring, even if there were guests on the premise.
During one of these sessions, his father had gone to the second level to retrieve an old journal that showed ancient crop rotations. Not the most delightful subject for a young man of one and twenty, but even at that young age, Max knew these were things he should learn. His father had barely ascended the spiral staircase when the door to the library eased open. Upon spotting Maxwell, who had risen to his feet, Lady Celeste entered the room and closed the door behind her.
