Georgiana thrust her hands through the hairstyle it had taken Sarah a good hour to perfect, sending a shower of pins across the room. “That was wonderful.” She sighed and collapsed onto the bed. “How could you have given it all up to pluck berries?”
Barbara managed the first laugh since they’d gone down the stairs to greet her mother’s guests. “It wasn’t like I asked to leave.”
Her cousin offered a level stare. “From what your mother told me over tea, you didn’t protest that much either.”
Turning so Sarah could help her with the last of her own pins, Barbara kept her expression hidden. She hadn’t thought her parents so aware of how little their punishment had punished until now. Maybe they’d known it a kindness.
“And your suitors. I can see why you have so much trouble choosing between them. Handsome and witty too.”
That brought a sigh from Barbara, and not one of delight. “If you like them so much, why don’t you take them off my hands?”
Georgiana giggled. “From what your parents say, you have enough to spare, but no. My Freddie is the only one for me. I’m here to get a bit of culturing and enjoy myself before heading home. It’s your job to choose a suitor since you’ve given up on the one you left behind.”
“I never had him,” Barbara said, her tone quashing any further conversation, for the moment at least.
She’d spent an uncomfortable evening between a marquess and a baron. Both of whom had sought her father’s permission already only to be put off, and neither intended the other to get the slightest advantage. They’d exchanged biting remarks, ostensibly with her, about the readings, the latest politics, and whatever else they could come up with, challenging each other to provide a better topic or a wittier phrase.
Little had they known a different man all together held Barbara’s attention, the reading only reminding her of the last one she’d attended. She’d wasted the event then, using it to condemn Aubrey when she would have lingered over every word and collected memories to sustain her had she only known. None of the readers tonight had his skill with the spoken tongue. Though he’d never consider such a thing, his talents would serve well on the stage of a public theater. She had no doubt he’d proven a favorite for more private dramatic parties a time or two.
While they’d captured Georgiana’s attention, Barbara had been busy spinning fantasies all the more impossible for how they swirled around Aubrey. She pretended she could explain her behavior away once he returned to London, that Aubrey would see fit to forgive her and they could begin again.
Sarah tugged the brush through a snarl in Barbara’s hair, startling her. She’d been caught up in her thoughts and hadn’t noticed when the style fell.
“You’ll find another,” her friend murmured. “If not one of those two, then a different gentleman. Despite all that happened, your true nature is sound and pleasant as so many have recognized.”
Barbara stood, ignoring the sharp pain as the brush tangled. “Why don’t you help Georgie tonight? She’s had quite the adventure in even such a simple gathering.”
Sarah’s lips pinched together, but she did not speak any rebuke as Barbara moved to the window that had held her presence more often of late than ever before. At least there no one could question how she looked into the distance, nor could they see the shadows in her eyes as she did so.
“Have you ever gone to a reading?” Georgiana asked Sarah from the same stool Barbara had vacated. “It was like when my mama read to us when we were little. Charlotte tries, and Father too, but neither have the knack for making the voices come alive like she did.”
Tuning out Sarah’s reply, Barbara wished she could go back to the time of innocence when she’d sat against the wall so she could see Aubrey without interference. She’d watched his lips form the voices, sometimes pinched together, sometimes wide and languid.
She’d known better then, seen the measure of the man in so much more than one remark not intended to be overheard.
With the maturity of experience though little time had passed, she recognized sharp words could be a release of frustration or other emotions kept hidden beneath a social mask. Rather than seeing through to the heart of him, she’d seen him at his worst, but at the same time at his best. He could have stood in the center of the dance floor and called out his cutting words to each debutante who circled him, ever hopeful of an interested look from someone who had station, finances, and a fine figure. Had he spoken then, his intent would have been to damage. Though his remarks had not been far from the truth, they were hardly what one wanted bandied about.
Instead, he’d chosen a secluded corner and had spoken to a trusted friend.
Fate and bad luck had her near enough to overhear, but it had been her own willfulness that took his words not just to heart but to the point of revenge. Her uncharitable nature had almost cost him his life, and for what crime? A moment of irritation at the marriage mart? Could she stand tall against such a happening?
“You’ll have the curtains down on the floorboards and the bright sun to wake the two of you much too early if you don’t leave off your moping.”
At Sarah’s words, Barbara became aware of how she’d taken hold of the curtains in her fist and now tugged them far too taut. She let go, the fabric still wrinkled from her attack as it swung into place.
Georgiana came up on her other side and pulled Barbara over to the bed. “The standard you hold for yourself is too firm by far, Cousin. And you measure him too low.”
Barbara tried to protest, but a callused finger against her lips forced silence.
“We all know who held your thoughts as you stood by the window, fists clenched and shoulders slumped, don’t we, Sarah? You let thoughts of him take all the joy out of life and yet won’t give him the chance to bring it back.”
Barbara shook off her cousin’s hold. “You don’t understand. There is no chance. I need to accept my path and put him behind me. All this lingering is the cause of my sorrow, and it’s a further sign of my foolishness. What I’ve done is unforgivable, and I know it.”
Georgiana burst out with laughter sharp enough to bring the blood rushing to her features. “You think playing on his own arrogance the worst a girl could do? Freddie has forgiven me that more times than I could count and me the same for him.” She shook her head. “There is a chance if only you give it. You have to stop running away before he can catch you, and until he does, he cannot forgive because he knows not what makes you run.”
The wisdom coming from a girl she’d thought truly frivolous where Barbara had only pretended stunned Barbara to silence for a moment.
When she found her tongue though, she didn’t bother to explain the difference between a simple farm boy and a nobleman when it came to playing the fool. Instead, she said only, “You are a very lucky girl, Georgie. I hope your Freddie proves as steadfast, and my uncle sees the good in seeking happiness over the chance at a rise in station.”