Page 20 of The Colonist’s Petition (Heirs & Heroes #2)

Fourteen

M iss Godderidge was a lovely dance partner.

Her conversation witty, and her rapt attention caused Johnathan’s chest to expand.

A year ago, he believed he would never have that feeling again.

In the space of a fortnight he experienced it twice.

Even if this second was not nearly as strong as the first. The dance brought Georgiana into his sight, she turned her face away further than the dance called for. His chest deflated.

“You really must tell me more about America,” Miss Godderidge’s eyes reflected the light of the lanterns. “Jane read us the most fascinating accounts when we were children.”

Johnathan obliged, keeping away from politics, aware of the tensions lingering between their countries.

Isabel proved an attentive listener, asking clever questions that showed genuine curiosity about his homeland.

Yet his gaze kept straying to where Georgiana danced with Mr. Dalrymple.

A frown flashed across her face. Good, she did not like her partner any more than he did.

The dance ended. Miss Godderidge’s next partner swept her away before Johnathan could return her to her friends.

Movement near the refreshment table caught his attention. Jane stood alone near a potted tree, her pale grey dress standing out against shadows. He changed direction to join the quietest of his cousins.

“Miss Jane,” he bowed. “I believe you have denied me the pleasure of a dance this evening.”

She startled slightly. “Oh! Mr. Whittaker, you need not feel obligated?—”

“I assure you, I wish this dance with you.” He offered his hand. “Unless you truly wish to refuse?”

A ghost of a smile crossed her face. “Very well.”

As they took their places for the quadrille, Johnathan caught Georgiana watching them.

Her expression softened as Jane moved through the first figure with surprising grace.

Jane proved to be a skilled dancer and a thoughtful conversationalist once he coaxed her into talking.

The more they talked, the more being with Jane grew comfortable, like talking to his sister Miriam.

If they could meet, he was sure they would get on famously.

“Thank you,” she said quietly as the dance ended. “It's been some time since I've participated. Father mandated I must dance tonight, and you have given me courage.”

“Then the loss has been everyone else's.” He bowed over her hand, pleased to see her genuine smile. “It looks as if the musicians are taking a break.”

“They are moving inside. I should find Alex and help with the refreshments.”

Johnathan joined the other men in moving chairs and tables.

The musicians began tuning again. Whispers rippled through the room, carrying an edge of excitement.

The waltz. Johnathan learned it was still considered somewhat scandalous in some circles, though his dance lessons with Georgiana prepared him well enough.

He turned to find another partner. Georgiana stood near the doors to the garden, the gas lamps reflected off the sun kissed highlights in her hair. Before he could think better of dancing the waltz again with her, his feet carried him to her side.

“Miss Georgiana.” He bowed, noting how she started at his use of her full name. “Would you do me the honor?”

She hesitated, and for a moment, he thought she would refuse. “I... Yes.”

The first notes filled the air as he led her to the floor. When his hands grasped her gloved ones, he felt the same jolt of awareness he experienced during their practice sessions, only now it seemed magnified by the intimate nature of the dance and the gathering darkness beyond the windows.

“You have been quite popular this evening,” Georgiana said as they turned a half circle, her voice carefully neutral.

“Miss Godderidge has been very kind in helping me navigate English society.” He guided them through a turn, acutely aware of how perfectly she moved with him. “Though I am still struggling with some aspects.”

“Oh?” Her eyes met his briefly before darting away. “You seem to be managing quite well.”

“Perhaps.” He tightened his hold slightly as they navigated around another couple. “Though I'm beginning to think I've misunderstood something rather important.”

“What might that be?”

The waltz brought them close enough that he could see the faint freckles across her nose—proof she was as involved in the harvest as any. “The need for new boots to be properly tested and tried.”

He was rewarded with a smile.

“That can be a difficult lesson to learn.”

“Indeed. I wish someone warned me.”

“Are you in much pain?”

“Nothing that a pan of warm water will not solve.”

“There, you might have a problem. Our staff is off until morning.” Her laugh told him he had no need to defend himself.

Still, he did. “Fortunate for me, I am unaccustomed to having staff.”

“A thing I think you will always remember?” The corners of her mouth turned up.

“I hope I do.”

“Then I will not worry about Kellmore when I am gone.”

But I want you to stay. The words came into his mind with all the force of a cider press. There was only one way that she could stay on land entailed to the earldom. They made the final turn of the dance and he pulled her closer than the step required. Georgiana did not resist.

As Johnathan escorted Georgiana from the floor, Jane met them at the edge of the dancers. “Alex and I are leaving with Grandfather. Are you coming or will you stay until the end?”

“Is Alex well?” asked Georgiana.

Jane’s worried eyes gave the answer. “She says she is fatigued.”

Georgiana took her sister’s hands. “I’ll stay. We said we would help to clean that which cannot wait until morning. I assume Father has left?”

“I have not seen him for sometime. He could be playing at cards. I worry about you coming home so late.”

“I’ve done so a thousand times.”

Johnathan cleared his throat. “I too have promised to help afterwards. I will see your sister safely home.”

Jane smiled at him. “Thank you cousin, I would not leave, but with no staff…”

“Mrs. Green set out a poultice for Alex. All will be well.” Georgiana let go of Jane’s hands and sent her off.

An hour later Johnathan worked opposite of Mr. Dalrymple in moving tables to where Lord Godderidge indicated.

“I see why they ended the ball early,” said Dalrymple.

“Early? It is nearly midnight.” After all the work they accomplished this week Johnathan was more than ready for bed, even if he did not get his foot soak.

“Balls in Town usually go well into the night.”

Lord Godderidge joined them. “The late Lady Lightwood and Lady Godderidge decided years ago that the festivities should end early so that we might have time to clean up, and that everybody could be rested for church in the morning.”

“A perfectly reasonable decision,” said Johnathan.

Mr. Dalrymple did not respond.

After they packed up the tables and chairs, Johnathan found Georgiana coming out of the kitchen. “Are you finished?”

“Quite so. Have you been waiting long?”

“No.”

She started down a path that did not lead to the road.

“Are you not going the wrong direction?”

“This way is much shorter, and I do not know about you and your new dancing boots, but my feet would prefer a shorter distance.”

“An excellent idea, although—will it not cause a scandal, since we are walking without a chaperone?”

“Likely not. Most will have assumed we've taken a carriage back.”

“I'm surprised the earl did not send one back for you.”

“Considering there would have been no one to drive it back—other than himself—I am not surprised at all.”

Apparently, when everyone received the evening off, they meant everyone. “So, who took care of the horses?”

Georgiana laughed. “Our stable master, undoubtedly. He cannot handle seeing the mistreatment of any animal, and I'm sure he would not have let Grandfather take care of them.”

“But I thought he would have the time off.”

“He did. He was there, dancing and enjoying the day as well as any. But like Cook, who made all of her goods in advance, there are some things staff do not trust us to touch.”

“That makes sense. But will you mind terribly if I check on the horses before retiring?”

“Of course not. I take it you care for your own horses at home?”

“Yes. One of my earliest memories is of mucking out stalls.”

High above them, an owl hooted. Georgiana turned her face up, looking for the animal. “Good night, Sir Owl.”

The owl hooted back before the flutter of wings filled the air.

“Do you often speak to the owls?”

“Not often. I am not out late enough.”

They reached the stile which although well-kept looked steep with its three stairs.

Johnathan extended his hand to help Georgiana over, though he was sure she did not require it.

At some point during her cleaning, she had removed her gloves.

Her hand was soft and warm in his. He wished the stile was wide enough to otherwise accommodate them both, so he need not let go.

He scrambled over and he would have offered his arm to her but she stepped back far enough to make the gesture awkward.

“I saw you dancing with Isabel. Did you enjoy her company?”

“Are you seeking out tales? I am almost positive I danced with more partners than there were dances.”

“I only want to ascertain, if you have found somebody to stand at your side once you obtain the earldom.”

“I may have.” Johnathan slowed his step. Georgiana took a couple of others before realizing she left him behind. She stopped, turned to him, and tilted her head.

“Isabel?”

Johnathan took a step forward, closing the gap between them.

“No.”

She tilted her head. How could she not know? He stepped closer still. “I have taken a keen interest in someone who far better suits me.”

Georgiana searched his eyes. Her lips parted in a silent gasp.

Johnathan lifted his hand and rubbed a thumb across her cheek. He should answer her in words.

“Me?”

His head lowered an inch, as if propelled by his heart more than his mind. “Georgiana...”

Above them, the owl hooted again. A scolding sound, giving his mind greater control. He stepped back. “There is another thing I must know about your British customs.”

“What?” The single word fell breathless from her lips.

“Should I seek permission to court you?”

Georgiana turned. “I do not think that's a conversation we should be having alone in the dark.”

She was right. He never would have thought of kissing her if they were properly chaperoned. Well he would’ve thought of it, just not started to act upon his thought.

Georgiana pointed to a path that took off a few feet in front of her. “That will take you to the back of the stables. Good night.”

She hurried off.

Johnathan waited for a moment before he followed her.

He wanted to be sure she made it safely to the house.

He watched from the shadows as she entered the kitchen door before heading to the stables.

As she said, the horses were properly cared for.

Still he checked each one before returning to the manor.

In the kitchen, he found a steaming kettle on and a foot bath half full in front of a straight back chair. For him? Finding no one else about, he pulled off his boots. Foot falls on the stairs stopped him.

A robe covered Georgiana’s nightdress. She stayed in the shadows of the doorway. “Good, you found it.”

“You set this out for me?”

She nodded. “My father.”

Sir Lightwood would not have left anyone hot water. “Pardon?”

“You should speak with my father.” Georgiana fled up the stairs before Johnathan could move.

Did that mean she approved? He pondered the idea as he soaked his feet. She prepared him a footbath. That signified. The water grew cold. He lifted his feet out and paused.

No towel.

He dried off the best he could with his stockings.

Maybe the foot bath did not signify as much as he thought.