Page 132 of Ironvine

“She must have known. She must have known of their affair,” said Charles.

“Yes, she must have known.” Georgina’s teeth dragged along her lower lip. “This painting of the two of them, do you know where that cottage was?”

“That was in Portugal. Mr. Sheffield had visited them on his way to Lisbon one summer. They loved it there.”

“Portugal…she’d go there almost every summer, didn’t she?” said Charles. “When I was young she’d bring me back seashells and starfish she’d find on the beach.”

Georgina glanced at him, her eyes full of water, a smile struggling over her trembling lips. His heart twisting at the sight, he took her hand and crushed it in his.

“How did she die exactly?” said Charles. “I want the whole story, Aunt. Did my father ever find out? Did he—”

“No, my darling. No. She’d learnt that Edward had died in a terrible carriage accident outside of London on his way back from a trip to Scotland, I think it was.”

“Yes, he’d been in Edinburgh for an exhibition,” said Georgina. “He was on his way to meet us in London for my coming out.”

“Oh, I see.” Aunt Vivian’s shoulders sank. “Sophie heard gossip in the village at the sweet shop one afternoon. That is how she learnt of his death. She was in shock. Inconsolable. A few days after she’d gone for a ride on her horse at sunset, her favourite time. But suddenly, there was a terrible storm. One of those odd summer storms, fierce and quick. Even the river had risen as it has now. Her horse came back alone. He appeared on the front lawn, waiting for us to find him.

“By that time the rain had stopped and luckily there was a bright moon. They searched for her, and finally, they found her—unconscious at the edge of the property in the woods. She’d broken a rib and an arm, and had a terrible fever. She never recovered. In the space of a week’s time both of them were gone forever.” She let out a long, heavy sigh.

“Father would not allow me to come see her.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Aunt Vivian lifted her chin. “But you came anyway, didn’t you, my love? I shall never forget seeing you in the kitchen doorway wet through and through, trembling, so very pale.”

“You took my hand and brought me through,” he breathed.

“Yes, I did,” she said. “You were so brave.”

“Aunt, were there any letters between them?” asked Georgina.

“Oh yes, there are letters. Many letters. She’d given them to me for safekeeping at my house. She was afraid the Earl might find them here.”

“Wise,” muttered Charles.

“Very. I have them with me, along with a few lovely pieces of jewellery Townsend had given her on a trip to Venice.” She went to a cupboard and retrieved a leather box. “But mostly he gave her these small paintings which she treasured. Souvenirs of every place they’d gone together.”

His vision blurred as Georgina and Aunt Vivian spoke, but their words were unintelligible, their voices far away.

A hand gripped his arm and he shuddered and jerked back. “Charles? Charles? Are you unwell?” A glass was brought to his lips. “Drink, my love. Drink.”

Charles drank, coughed, bringing his hand to his mouth. He rose to his feet. “Forgive me, Aunt, but … I…”

“We must go home,” said Georgina, sliding an arm around his waist.

“Rest here, my darlings—”

“No,” he spit out.

Aunt Vivian rang for the servant. “My nephew and his wife are leaving. Prepare their carriage.” She gestured to another servant to take up the jewellery box and the small painting, along with a filled cloth bag. “Secure these items in their carriage.”

Georgina touched Vivian’s arm. “Aunt, thank you for being the faithful keeper of my father and mother-in-law’s story all these years.”

“Ah, you, my dear, are an extraordinary young lady.” Vivian embraced her, as did Alice. Aunt Vivian came to Charles and slid a hand against his cheek. The sudden warmth of her palm made his eyes blink,. “Take care, my darling. You and Georgina need each other now more than ever.”

ChapterFifty-Seven

Georgina

The steady clomping of the horses’hooves, the drumming of the wheels of their carriage, lulled her into a kind of numbness as they drove home. The sky had darkened quickly, filling with thick clouds. A storm was coming.

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