Georgie was trying to decide just how long she could put off heading downstairs after dressing for dinner when what sounded like a small herd of lead-footed foxes ran past her room.
She grinned. For real. Her nephews were here.
She bounded off her bed and pulled open the door just as her sister-in-law walked by. Violet immediately pivoted and bustled into the room, baby Colin in her arms. “Georgie!” she exclaimed. “It is so good to see you. How are you? Tell me everything. What can I do?”
“I—Well . . .” Where to start?
“Here. Hold the baby, would you?” Violet thrust Colin forward, and Georgie had no choice but to take him.
He immediately began to scream.
“I think he’s hungry,” Georgie said.
“He’s always hungry. Honestly, I don’t know what to do with him. He ate half of my meat pasty yesterday.”
Georgie sent a horrified look at her little nephew. “Does he even have teeth?”
“No,” Violet replied. “He just gummed the whole thing down.”
“You little monster,” Georgie said affectionately. Colin gurgled, clearly judging this to be a compliment.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t been over,” Violet said. “Colin was ill, nothing too serious, but he was coughing, and it was just a terrible sound, hoarse and barky. I didn’t want to leave him.”
“It’s all right, Violet,” Georgie assured her. “Your children must come first.”
“Also, your mother said you wanted to be alone.”
“She wasn’t wrong.”
“Four weeks of being alone is enough, though, I think. Don’t you?”
“We’ll find out tonight.”
Violet smirked at that. “Has everyone else arrived? What am I saying? I don’t even know who is coming.”
“Billie and George. Lord and Lady Manston. Andrew and Poppy, perhaps?”
“No, they’re visiting her family in Somerset. One of her brothers just got married.”
“Oh, I hadn’t realized.”
Violet shrugged. “I don’t know which one. She has so many of them. I can’t imagine having such a big family.”
As if on cue, Anthony and Benedict ran past the doorway, their nurse in hot pursuit.
“Three does seem to be a handful,” Georgie said.
Violet flopped down in a chair. “You have no idea.”
Georgie smiled. She knew Violet wouldn’t trade motherhood for anything. Honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised if she and Edmund decided to extend their family beyond their current three boys. Her sister-in-law was always harried but always happy. It lifted Georgie’s spirits to see her, even as it occurred to her that this was something she was now unlikely to have in her own life.
Freddie Oakes had seen to that.
“I’m trying to decide who he looks like,” Georgie said, bobbing baby Colin in her arms. He didn’t have much hair yet, but it looked like it was coming in darker than Violet’s dark blond locks.
“Edmund. They all look like Edmund.”
“No, I don’t think so. I think all three are a combination of both of you.”
“You’re very kind, but I know the truth.” Violet sighed dramatically. “I’m but a vessel for the Bridgerton family.”
Georgie laughed out loud. “Honestly, I think they mostly look like each other.”
“They do, don’t they?” Violet smiled to herself. “A matched set. I don’t know why that makes me so happy.”
“Me too.” Georgie held Colin out a few inches for a better look at his face. “Look at those cheeks,” she said. “And his eyes. I think his eyes are going to be green.”
“The color of gluttony,” Violet muttered.
“Not envy?”
“That, too.” She shuddered. “He never stops eating.”
Georgie grinned and kissed Colin’s nose. “Is it too much to ask for one of you to favor your Aunt Georgie and come out a little bit gingery? Just a little? I could use another redhead in the family.”
“Lone wolf that you are,” Violet quipped. “I thought redheads were supposed to have tempers.”
“Alas, no. I am a model of serenity.”
Violet pointed a finger in Georgie’s direction. “Mark my words, Georgiana Bridgerton. Someday you’re going to explode, and when you do, I don’t want to be anywhere nearby.”
“Not even to watch?”
“Only if it’s not directed at me.”
Georgie looked back at the baby. “Do you think your mother could ever make me that angry? No? I don’t think so, either.”
Colin burped and pitched forward, almost causing Georgie to lose her balance. By the time she had a firm grip on him again he was gnawing on her shoulder. “I really think he’s hungry,” she said to Violet.
“Eh.” Violet waved a hand.
“I can’t believe you,” Georgie said with a laugh. “When Anthony was a baby you fussed over him like he was made of porcelain.”
“I didn’t know any better. They’re really quite sturdy.”
Georgie smiled at her little nephew. “Well, I think you’re adorable,” she told him. He grinned back.
“He smiled at me!” Georgie exclaimed.
“Yes, he’s quite charming when he wants to be.”
“I didn’t know babies could smile at this age.”
“Anthony didn’t. Benedict . . .” Violet frowned. “I don’t remember. Does this make me a terrible mother?”
“You could never be a terrible mother.”
“You’re too kind, and I do love you for it.” Violet stretched out her arm, but when Georgie walked over she realized her sister-in-law wasn’t reaching for the baby. Instead she took Georgie’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “You were born with a sister,” Violet said, “but I wasn’t. I hope you know that’s what you are to me now.”
“Don’t.” Georgie sniffled. “You’re going to make me cry, and I’ve done far too much of that already.”
“If it makes you feel better, you don’t look as if you’ve been crying.”
“You didn’t see me last week.” Georgie tipped her head toward the open door. She thought she heard voices. “It sounds as though people are arriving. We should go down soon.”
Violet stood and took Colin from her. “Edmund told me a little of what happened,” she said as she led the way to the nursery. “I have never seen him so angry. I thought he would call Mr. Oakes out.”
“Edmund would never be so stupid,” Georgie said.
“You’re his sister,” Violet said, “and your honor has been impugned.”
“Tell me he didn’t use the word impugned.”
“It was something considerably more profane.”
“That sounds more like my brother,” Georgie said with a roll of her eyes. “And he needs to learn that I can fight my own battles. In fact, I did.”
Violet’s eyes lit with glee. “What did you do?”
Georgie gathered her skirts just high enough to show Violet the exact motion she’d used to knee Freddie Oakes in the ballocks.
“And you say you don’t have a temper,” Violet said. “Good for you. Did he cry? Please tell me he cried.”
He did, but not half so much as Georgie had the following day, when she realized that the only way to save her reputation was to marry the man who’d abducted her.
“What happened next?” Violet asked.
Georgie followed her into the nursery. “I tied him up.”
“Brava,” Violet said admiringly. She handed Colin off to the nurse, then poked her head back out into the hall. “Anthony! Benedict! Now!” Then, barely missing a beat, she pulled Georgie aside. “Then what happened? I’m feeling particularly bloodthirsty.”
“I climbed out the window.”
“Resourceful.”
Georgie gave a modest nod although in truth she was insanely proud of herself for having escaped.
“But couldn’t you have just gone out the door?”
“We were on the ground floor, so it wasn’t quite as awful as it might have been. And there were some rough looking men in the inn. I didn’t want to go back through the front room by myself.”
“Good thinking,” Violet said approvingly. “Were you terrified? I would have been terrified.”
“I was,” Georgie admitted. “I didn’t even know where we were. All I knew was that we were heading north—he’d told me we were bound for Gretna Green—and that we’d been traveling for hours and hours.”
“Edmund said you were in Bedfordshire?”
“Biggleswade,” Georgie confirmed.
“Biggles-what?”
“It’s a village on the Great North Road. There are quite a few coaching inns there.” Georgie stretched her mouth into a flat, self-effacing line. “I know this now.”
Violet considered this. “I don’t suppose you ever had cause to travel north before.”
“I don’t suppose I did.”
“But wait . . . Edmund said you were saved by Lady Danbury of all people?”
“She was at the same inn. Heading north, but she turned around to take me back to London.” Georgie could not even begin to describe the relief she’d felt upon seeing Lady Danbury’s familiar face outside the inn. Lady D was a leader of the ton, and Georgie wasn’t sure she’d ever exchanged two words with her, but she’d practically thrown herself at her, begging her to intercede.
“I don’t know what I would have done without her,” Georgie said. Or more truthfully, she didn’t want to think about what might have happened without her.
“She terrifies me,” Violet said.
“She terrifies everyone.”
“But surely she’s not the reason everyone found out,” Violet remarked. “She would never spread such gossip.”
“No,” Georgie said bitterly. “Mr. Oakes took care of that. He told all of his friends when he returned to London—minus the part about my, er, unmanning him.”
“And tying him up.”
“No, not that part, either.”
Violet let out an appropriately sympathetic snort of disgust.
“But even if he hadn’t,” Georgie continued, “there was such a commotion in Berkeley Square when he pushed Marian out of the carriage. From what I understand, the gossip was all over town by nightfall.”
Violet ground her teeth together. “It makes me so angry I can’t even tell you. I have never struck another human being, you know, at least not on purpose, but if I saw that—that bastard—”
The nurse gasped.
“I would blacken his eye,” Violet said.
“Do you know,” Georgie said slowly, “I believe you would.”
Violet poked her head out the door again. “Anthony! Benedict!” She looked over at the nurse, who was still recovering from Violet’s uncharacteristically coarse language. “Do you happen to know where they’ve gone off to?”
The nurse shook her head.
Violet let out a sigh. “I’m sorry to leave you like this, but we’ve got to go down to dinner.”
“We can ask one of the footmen to hunt them down,” Georgie assured the nurse. “They know all the boys’ favorite hiding places.”
“I can’t possibly be paying that nurse enough,” Violet said once they were in the hall. She smoothed her dress, a royal blue round gown that complemented her eyes. “Do I look presentable?”
“You look beautiful.”
Violet pulled her chin toward her chest as she tried to examine her shoulders. “Are you sure? The baby spit up in the carriage. I was wearing a cloak, but . . .”
“You look perfect,” Georgie said. “I promise. And even if you didn’t, no one would care.”
Violet smiled gratefully. “I think I asked you already, but has everyone else arrived?”
“I think so?” Georgie said. She wasn’t certain. She’d heard at least one carriage in the drive, but she hadn’t looked out the window. It could have held two people or five. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Nicholas is coming.”
“Nicholas? Why? He’s not supposed to be here. He is in the middle of his examinations.”
“He’s obviously not in the middle of his examinations because he’s here in Kent. Mama told me this afternoon.”
“That’s very odd. I hope nothing is wrong. Edmund received a letter from him just last week, no, maybe a little before that, but still, he didn’t mention anything.”
Georgie shrugged as she followed Violet down the stairs. “I only know what Mama told me. And as far as I can tell, she only knows what his mother told her.”
“Pack of gossips, we are.”
“We are not,” Georgie said emphatically. “We are people who love and care about each other and are therefore logically interested in comings and goings. It is not at all the same as a pack of gossips.”
“Sorry,” Violet said with a wince. “There really ought to be a more benign word for people who love and care about each other and are therefore logically interested in the comings and goings.”
“Family?” Georgie suggested.
Violet let out a loud bark of laughter just as they entered the drawing room. Edmund handed her the glass of sherry he’d already poured for her with an amused smile. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” she said. “Everyone in this room, actually.”
He turned to Georgie.
“She’s right,” Georgie said.
“I may need to head back over to the less feminine side of the room,” Edmund joked.
“Oh, please,” Violet returned, linking her arm with his. “Don’t act as if you haven’t the numbers at home. It’s four against one.”
He kissed her hand. “You’re easily worth five of us.”
Violet looked over at Georgie. “I’m not sure that was a compliment.”
“I would take it as such, regardless of his intentions.”
“Good evening to you, too, sister,” Edmund said, offering Georgie his usual mischievous smile.
Georgie returned the gesture with a quick kiss on his cheek. “I take that back,” she said to Violet. “Disregarding his intentions presupposes that he had intentions. Most of the time when he speaks, the words just spew forth like . . .” She rolled her hands in front of her face in a rough approximation of a verbal tumbleweed.
“You are evil,” Edmund said approvingly.
“I learned from the best.”
“Yes, you did, didn’t you?”
“Has Nicholas arrived?” Violet asked. “Georgie mentioned he would be coming. Do you know why he’s home?”
Edmund shook his head. “Billie and George are here, but they said that Lord and Lady Manston and Nicholas are coming separately.”
George Rokesby was the heir to the earldom, and he and Billie also lived at Crake with their three children. Lord Manston often said that Billie was the finest thing to happen to the Rokesby family since they’d gained their title in 1672. She was passionate about farming and land management, and Crake’s agricultural output had nearly doubled in the decade since she’d married George.
Billie was quite a bit older than Georgiana, though, and while they’d never been terribly close, that seemed to be changing as Georgie moved further into adulthood. The nine-year age gap that had been so daunting when Georgie was sixteen was not such a huge thing at twenty-six.
“I should go greet Billie,” Georgie said, leaving Edmund and Violet to make their usual dove eyes at each other. It was hard sometimes to be around them. They were so much in love. Georgie had never met two people so obviously made for each other.
She loved them both, she really did, but tonight they were a reminder of all the things she would never have.
No husband. (Not unless she agreed to marry Freddie Oakes, and that wasn’t going to happen.)
No children. (One needed a husband for those.)
No everything else that followed.
But she did have more than most people. She had a loving family, and she never had to worry where her next meal might come from, and she supposed if she gave herself enough time to ponder it, she’d find some sort of new purpose in life.
Her mother was right. She couldn’t molder in her room forever. She probably was justified in taking a few more weeks of feeling sorry for herself, but after that she would have to move on.
“Georgie, darling,” Billie said when Georgie reached her side. “How are you holding up?”
Georgie shrugged. “Eh.”
“Is Mama driving you mad?”
“Just a little bit.”
Billie sighed. She’d visited several times since the scandal had broken, often just to distract their mother so that she would not smother Georgie with her concern. “She means well.”
“I know. That’s what makes it bearable. And occasionally even nice.”
Billie took her hand and squeezed it. “Have you heard anything from Mr. Oakes?”
“No,” Georgie said with some alarm. “Why, have you heard something?”
“Not really. Just little rumblings that he might still be trying to press his suit.”
“That’s not new news.” Georgie’s mouth flattened into a grim line. She’d received a letter from Freddie Oakes the day after she’d returned home to Kent. It had been full of drippings and drivel, and she could hear his smarmy voice in his words of undying love and devotion. The way he told it, he’d been overcome with the need to make her his.
Rubbish. All of it. If he’d wanted to make her his, he should have bloody well asked.
“We shall do our best to distract you this evening,” Billie said. “There is nothing like the banded multitudes of Rokesbys and Bridgertons to make one laugh.” She considered that. “Or cry. But tonight, I think laugh.”
“Speaking of multitudes, do you know why Nicholas is home?”
Billie shook her head. “I saw him only briefly. He looked rather grim.”
“Oh, dear. I hope nothing is wrong.”
“If that’s the case, I’m sure he’ll tell us when he’s ready.”
“How unlike you to be so patient.”
“It can’t be anything too serious,” Billie said. “I can’t imagine there is trouble at school—he’s always been so clever. But why else would he be down?”
Georgie shrugged. She hadn’t seen Nicholas very often in the last few years. But given that a family was indeed a group of people who loved and cared about each other (and were therefore logically interested in comings and goings), she generally knew what he was up to.
“I think they’ve arrived,” Billie said, looking over her shoulder toward the door that led out to the hall.
“The Earl and Countess of Manston,” Thamesly announced, as if they didn’t all know who was expected, “and Mr. Nicholas Rokesby.”
This bit of formality was followed by Edmund’s more jovial greeting. “Rokes!” he exclaimed. “What the devil are you doing in Kent?”
Nicholas laughed and made the sort of noise that revealed nothing. Georgie thought it remarkable that this seemed to satisfy Edmund, but the two men began to chat as if nothing was amiss.
“Did you see that?” she asked her sister.
“See what?”
“He just completely avoided the question, and Edmund didn’t even notice.”
“Oh, he noticed,” Billie said. “He’s just pretending not to.”
“Why?”
Billie shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t care.”
“Of course he cares. Nicholas is his closest friend.”
“Then he’ll ask him later. Really, Georgie, why are you so curious?”
“Why aren’t you?”
“Probably because I know I’ll find out soon enough. It’s not as if someone has died.”
“Of course not,” Georgie murmured, because what else could she say? Sometimes she truly did not understand her sister.
“I’m getting a glass of sherry,” Billie said. “Can I get you one?”
“No, thank you. I’m going to say hello to Nicholas.”
Billie gave her a look. “Don’t interrogate him.”
“I won’t!”
But Billie clearly didn’t believe her. She pressed her lips together and wagged her finger as she departed. It was rather like getting scolded for something one hadn’t yet done. Georgie scowled in return—since there was nothing like an older sister to bring out one’s inherent immaturity—and of course that was when she found herself face-to-face with—
“Nicholas!” she exclaimed.
Although really, exclaimed might be too optimistic a verb. The sound that came out of her mouth did not sound fully human.
“Georgiana,” he said, giving her a polite bow. But the look he gave her was somewhat wary.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “You surprised me.”
“My apologies. I did not mean to.”
“No, of course not. Why would you?”
He did not have an answer to that. And, to quote herself, why would he? It was a stupid question.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Let us begin again. It is lovely to see you.”
“And you.”
If this wasn’t the most awkward conversation they had ever shared, she didn’t know what was. Georgie did not know what to make of it. She would never have called Nicholas Rokesby a confidante, but he was certainly a friend, and she’d never had difficulty chatting with him before.
“You look well,” he said.
He looked tired. Exceedingly so. His eyes were the same blue shared by all of his brothers, but the purple shadows beneath seemed to be draining them of their usual sparkle.
But she couldn’t very well say this to him after not having seen him for nearly a year, so instead she thanked him politely for the compliment. “Er, thank you. It’s been a . . .” Oh, for heaven’s sake, he had to have heard what had happened to her. “It’s been an eventful few weeks,” she finally said.
“Yes, I, er . . .” He cleared his throat. “I imagine so.”
There was another awkward pause, and then another, which made her wonder if two awkward pauses in a row was really just one long awkward pause.
But what if one broke them up with a nonverbal motion such as shuffling one’s feet? Did that ensure they were two separate pauses? Because she had definitely shuffled her feet.
She was doing it again, as a matter of fact.
Aaaaand now it was officially the longest pause in the history of long pauses.
“Ehrm . . .”
“Ahh . . .”
“Do you like Scotland?” she blurted out.
“I do.” He looked relieved that she’d asked such a benign question. “It can be quite cold, of course, although not so much this time of year.”
“It is far to the north.”
“Yes.”
She waited for him to ask her a question, because surely she could not be expected to take care of all the boring questions, but he just stood there with a queasy expression on his face, and every so often he’d dart a glance over at his parents.
That was odd.
Lord and Lady Manston were talking with her parents, which was not odd. Except that half the time she could swear Lord Manston was sneaking glances in their direction. And when he wasn’t, Lady Manston was.
Honestly, the entire exchange was downright bizarre.
She decided to make one last attempt at polite conversation and gave Nicholas her best sunny smile. “Did I hear that you arrived only this morning?”
“Indeed.”
“We are very lucky you decided to come to dinner, then.”
His brows rose, just a tiny bit.
Georgie dropped her voice to something closer to a murmur. “Or would it be correct to assume that you had no choice?”
“None whatsoever.” He quirked a wry smile, and Georgie had a feeling it was his first authentic expression of the evening.
“I sympathize utterly,” she replied. “I begged Mama to let me have toasted cheese with Anthony and Benedict in the nursery.”
“Are they getting toasted cheese?” He sounded undeniably jealous.
“They always get toasted cheese,” Georgie replied. “Why don’t we ever get it, that’s what I’d like to know. Because you know it’s what we all really want.”
He scratched his jaw. “I am quite fond of your cook’s famous rack of lamb . . .”
She leaned in. “But it would be better with a side of toasted cheese.”
He smiled. There, that was better, Georgie decided. Maybe she’d imagined the odd way he’d been looking at her.
Toasted cheese fixed everything. She’d been saying it for years.