A disturbance in the hallway and the angry scuffle of feet was the first indication of Cousin Josiah’s arrival. His voice, low but threatening, carried through the half-open salon door.
“No, curse you, I’ll announce myself!”
Georgie sat a little straighter in her chair and braced herself for what was bound to be an unpleasant interview. Anything concerning Josiah was unpleasant.
He flung himself through the door, brandishing the brief note she’d sent him like an Old Testament prophet. “What is the meaning of this, Georgiana? It says here that you’ve married. What do you mean by writing such twaddle?”
Georgie set down her book—Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe—and glanced over at Pieter, who’d followed Josiah into the room and positioned himself in the corner, a silent but effective bodyguard. She looked up at her cousin’s irate face impassively, but inside, her heart was racing.
“It’s quite true, Josiah. I am married. Three days ago, as a matter of fact. I wanted you to be one of the first to know.”
The irony in her tone was lost on Josiah. He’d removed his hat but hadn’t handed it over in the hallway before he’d barged his way up to the salon, and his knuckles gleamed white as he crushed the curled brim in his hand. He slapped it against his thigh in an impatient gesture and exhaled with a chiding half laugh. “You are a tease, Georgiana.”
Georgie lifted her chin, grateful that her mother and sister were out shopping. “Far from it. I would never joke about something as important as marriage. I wed by special license. Pieter can vouch to the truth of it.”
Josiah’s face grew red and mottled as his lips compressed in a furious line. “Who is he?” he demanded. “This husband of yours? Not one of ’em fortune hunters who’ve been sniffing ’round your skirts? You couldn’t stand the sight of any of ’em!”
Georgie refrained from adding, Fortune hunters like yourself? Instead she said, “He’s a midshipman on one of my frigates. We met at Blackwall three years ago. And we’ve been meeting in secret each time he’s been back in port.”
She silently congratulated herself on that little embellishment; she’d been inspired by her sister’s favorite book, Romeo and Juliet.
Josiah looked as though he’d swallowed something repugnant. “A midshipman! You’ve pledged herself to a common sailor?” His eyes ran over her in disgust, as if he were viewing her in a whole new—and distinctly more unflattering—light. “Which ship?” Disbelief fairly dripped from his tone.
“I don’t believe I’m under any obligation to tell you. I doubt the two of you will ever meet.”
Georgie smiled as an overwhelming sense of triumph poured through her, a feeling of weightlessness, of relief. She’d endured months, years, of Josiah’s unsubtle, overbearing attentions. The way he used his greater height and bulk to stand too close to her at every opportunity, invading her space, subtly aggressive. The way he sometimes caught her wrist to restrain her or placed his sweaty palm at the small of her back to steer her in to dinner. Proprietorial, when he had no cause to be. Now, all his fawning obsequiousness had come to nothing.
“But what of your fortune? The honor due to your family?” Josiah spluttered.
Of course, her money would be his primary concern. It was the only reason he’d ever paid her any attention. He took a menacing step toward her, and Georgie shrank back; he looked as though he wanted to throttle her. She glanced over at Pieter in a silent, pointed reminder that she was amply protected, and breathed a sigh of relief when Josiah spun on his heel and paced away.
“Your mother agreed to this farce?” Josiah demanded. “You cannot convince me of it. She’s always wanted an aristocratic title for you. And for Juliet. I doubt she’d have given her blessing to the Prince Regent himself!”
Georgie raised her brows and dodged the question. “I needed no one’s permission. I am of legal age to make my own decisions, especially those which concern my future happiness. In three weeks, I shall turn twenty-five.”
“You’ve lost your wits, girl! You should be sent straight to Bedlam. A sailor?” Josiah repeated incredulously. “Good God, what will the world think?”
“I haven’t the slightest intention of finding out. There’s no reason for anyone in the ton to know about my marriage. My affairs are my own, as are my wits. Besides, I doubt my husband will ever set foot in a ballroom, once he returns to these shores. We plan to retire to Lincolnshire.” She sent Josiah a sweet smile and twisted the verbal knife. “I know I can rely on your discretion, Josiah. Such an undesirable connection might reflect badly on you.”
Her cousin was as obsessed with the family’s social standing as her mother. He’d spent his entire life trying to ingratiate himself with the ton, glossing over what he saw as the family’s “shameful” background in trade. In his opinion, a fortune that had been earned was of far less merit than one that had been inherited. He would never lower himself to actually work for a living—which was good because as far as Georgie had seen, he had no discernable skills, save perhaps a talent for overindulgence. He spent his time trying to emulate his betters, lounging in gentleman’s clubs, playing cards and dice, attending prizefights, and patronizing eye-wateringly expensive tailors and boot makers he could ill afford.
“You have as much to lose as I do if word of this comes out,” she reminded him quietly.
Josiah shook his head and his lip stuck out stubbornly. “I simply don’t believe you, Georgiana. This all some ridiculous joke at my expense. But mark my words, I will discover the truth.”
Georgie shrugged. “Believe what you will, but my marriage is fact.” She gestured to the door. “That is all, Josiah. I’m sure you have plenty of other places to be. Pieter will show you out.”
As the door slammed behind him, Georgie breathed a sigh of relief. Pieter returned and gave her a meaningful glance from under his bushy brows.
“He won’t be taking your word for it, Georgie. Not when he’s been after you for so long. No man wants to think he’s been pipped to the winning post.”
“Especially when he thought he was the lead horse in the race,” Georgie finished dryly. She tossed her head. “He won’t find out anything. And besides, even if he does, my marriage was perfectly legal. There’s nothing he can do about it. He’s just furious because the Caversteed fortune has slipped through his greedy, grasping fingers.”