Page 91 of Marry in Scarlet
“Men are animals,” Aunt Agatha declared. “They will lie down with females of all kinds—young, old, pretty, plain, aristocratic or plebeian—it makes little difference to them. But the act is not in any way important to them—and should not be to their wives. It’s merely an itch they have to scratch.”
George kept a polite expression on her face. An itch to scratch indeed.
The old lady continued, “Ladies, on the other hand, have a tendency to read more into the significance of the act, ascribing meaning and emotions to it that simply don’t exist.” She peered at George to make sure she understood. “So, protect your heart, Georgiana, protect your heart.” She gave a brisk nod and departed, leaving George staring after her.
Was that what Aunt Agatha had learned from three marriages? All George’s irritation with the imperious old lady drained away. It was rather sad when you thought about it. But it was clear she meant her advice kindly.
Protect your heartindeed. George sniffed. Her heart was in no danger from the duke.
***
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rose demanded the minute she and Lily were alone with George. They’d arrived in the early afternoon, spent an hour with Emm and the baby and then had gone for a walk in Hyde Park at the fashionable hour and very cleverly returned shortly after Aunt Agatha left.
They had also, it seemed to George, caught up with all the gossip they’d missed by being away in the country the last few weeks. In one little walk in the park.
“Tell you what? You knew I was betrothed—I wrote to you both.”
“About the gossip,” Rose said.
“Letter?” Lily rolled her eyes. “Edward read mine to me—the whole half dozen lines:
“Dear Lily and Edward,
“I hope you’re both well. We are all well here. Emm has had the baby and he is very sweet. And they are both healthy and strong. Aunt Agatha is in alt. Aunt Dottie is in Bath. You probably saw the notice in the papers and were surprised, but it’s true. I am betrothed to the Duke of Everingham. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I’m committed to it now. But it’s all right, he’s giving me my own house.
Love from George and Finn and Sultan.”
“Much the same as the one you sent me,” Rose said.
George shrugged. “You know I’m not much of a letter writer.”
“Not much? It was appalling!”
“Why? The spelling was all right, wasn’t it?”
“The spelling was fine, it was the, the infuriation of it!” said Rose.
“The frustration,” Lily added.
“The complete, utterly provoking lack of information!” Rose finished.
“But I told you about everything—the baby, the aunts, and my betrothal. What else is there?”
Rose rolled her eyes. “Detail, that’s what’s missing. You’ve always been hopeless at gossip.”
“I hate gossip.”
Rose smacked her lightly. “This is not gossip, silly. It’s about you! Now, sit down and tell us all about it, from the beginning. I’ve ordered tea and cakes and a footman is taking care of Finn, so don’t think you’ll wriggle out of it. Now tell us, how, how,howdid you become betrothed to the Duke of Everingham? I thought you despised him.”
“I did.” George settled down to tell the tale. Truth to tell, she had no desire to wriggle out of talking about it. Rose and Lily were a sympathetic and attentive audience and it was a relief to be able to talk to people her own age. Emm and Aunt Dottie were lovely, and had helped her sort through her confused thoughts and feelings, but Rose was refreshingly blunt and Lily was wonderfully sympathetic.
Burton brought in a tray with a large pot of tea and a plate of mouthwatering cakes and dainty biscuits. Lily poured, and, while they ate and drank, George told them how the duke had singled her out at Rose and Thomas’s ball—Rose, of course, had had so much going on herself that she hadn’t noticed.
Lily had. “So that’s why you were asking about kissing,” she said with a smirk. “I knew it.”
George described how the duke had entrapped her, compromising her on the landing at old Mrs. Gastonbury’ssoirée musicale.She didn’t exactly tell them she’d been caught with her dress hitched up and her legs wrapped around him—just that they’d been caught kissing. And that there and then, the duke had announced their betrothal to everyone at the Gastonbury party. And how the very next morning there was a notice of it in the papers—announcing it to the world!—and he hadn’t even asked her!
“What a sneaky beast.” Rose eyed George thoughtfully.“He was never like that with me. He was always quite cool and formal. It’s almost as if...” She pursed her lips, considering.
