Page 22 of The Colonist’s Petition (Heirs & Heroes #2)

Sixteen

T he entire household was up well before dawn.

Cook set out a breakfast including all of George’s favorite foods hours before breakfast was normally served.

While Jane’s eyes remained moist most of the morning, she had yet to shed a tear.

For the first time in years, George forced herself to eat, thus maintaining a guise of normalcy.

A discussion between the earl and her father, which started last night ruining the evening for all, spilled over into the morning.

Raised voices echoed from her father’s study.

Two carriages sat in front of the house, both waiting to receive Georgiana’s trunks.

The carriage Grandfather brought with him and Father’s which would only go as far as the village inn to meet the Post coach in an hour.

Six or more days on a coach with strangers and no chaperone did not terrify George as much as the prospect of being away from her sisters for the next five months.

Could Jane abide without her? Or she without Jane.

She always worried about the day they might be parted.

Little had George suspected that the thought of not being able to confide in Jane each night would be the most daunting part of leaving.

Alex sat stiffly at the breakfast table, a sign that her hip, at the very least, was bothering her. She stirred another bit of sugar into her tea. Her third spoonful. It would be as sweet as candy soon. “I still have half a mind to write the Duke. He could stop this nonsense.”

“Hush, sister, it will not do any good,” George replied. “Father is not forcing me to marry someone. And if our Aunt is in need of help, at least I can do some good there. Father said I will be back for the Season.”

“Perhaps.” Alex sipped from her cup and made a face.

Jane whirled on Alex. “Do not say that! She must be back for the Season. I cannot do it without her, especially with you in Bath.”

“Grandfather will be sure of my return,” said George.

Alex pushed aside her tea. “If you do not come for the Season, I will write the Duke of Aylton. He is the only man I have met who can cow father.”

George saw the Duke briefly once. The forbidding man stopped by to bring a gift and his apologies for not attending Phil’s wedding.

She could not understand why Alex would place trust in a man who had so little connection to the family.

There was nothing to gain by the acquaintance, the duke needed neither a wife nor the earl’s support.

Jane tilted her head. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” asked Alex.

George set her fork down. “Silence.”

Father and Grandfather must have come to some sort of agreement. The front door opened, followed by the quick footsteps of footmen.

Father burst into the breakfast room. “Are you ready yet?”

“I was just preparing to take my leave,” George replied.

“Your grandfather insists upon sending his coach, although likely that means he will be here for another fortnight. I believed the post would have been good enough for you, but since I am not willing to spare someone to act as a chaperone, we are once again at the earl’s mercy.”

George hid her smile. Much better Grandfather’s coach than the post. She may not have been concerned about strangers, but still it would be a relief to not be completely alone.

“There will be a chaperone?” asked Jane.

“Of course she will have a chaperone. The earl insists I pay for one even if she were to go by post,” Father said.

“Cook’s widowed sister has agreed to accompany Georgiana.

Though I do not see the need, since he is sending his coachman and two footmen.

Georgiana will be more than adequately protected.

So much expense. It will cost me thrice as much as the post. Funds I could have sent my sister.

” He stormed out the same way he came in.

Not that he was paying for the expense, nor that he would have sent money to his sister. According to Alex, there were no records of transfers of funds to their aunt, but the books only included records of finance for Kellmore Manor.

“At least that prayer has been answered,” said Jane. “I was afraid for you to travel for days on top of a post chaise. And it will likely rain.”

“I was not looking forward to it either.” Although father would not have purchased one of the cheaper tickets would he? Even he should have seen the necessity of a gentlewoman traveling inside.

Cook entered the room with a large basket. “This should help ye on yer way. I made extra for the coachman, footmen, and my sister. Theirs is already aboard.”

Proper or not, George leapt from her seat and embraced Cook. “I will miss you.”

“None of that now. Jane helped me write out some of my best recipes. If you be miss’n us, perhaps yer aunt’s cook can fix’em.” Her accent grew thick. Cook dabbed a tear with the corner of her apron.

Unable to speak, George hugged the woman again.

“Don’ eat everythin’ at once. Ye will get ill from the motion of the coach.” Cook hurried out of the room, likely to hide her tears.

George returned to her breakfast. “When did you have time to write down the recipes?”

“I’ve been working on it all summer. When we leave, we will all want to eat some of our familiar favorites.”

“Likely will not taste the same without Cook making it, but I love the thought.”

The earl stepped into the breakfast room. “Godspeed, my child. I hope my bargain with your father proves not to be a mistake.”

Alex looked up from a fresh cup of tea. “What do you mean?”

“Never you mind. All will be well.”

“Thank you for saving me from traveling by post,” George said.

“A granddaughter of mine is not going to ride by post halfway across the country. It is unthinkable.” Grandfather made himself a plate from the sideboard.

“I’ve ordered your trunk loaded. I am not sure which bothers your father most—the money for the chaperone or the fact that Mr. Whittaker and I will stay in residence until the coach returns. ”

Grandfather could order another coach from his estate, and it would be here no later than tomorrow morning. His staying was simply to vex Father, Georgiana was sure, but she would not say such a thing.

“Speaking of Mr. Whittaker,” the earl continued, “I passed him in the corridor just now. He was off to the stables, but when I said you were leaving shortly, he said he would wait in the parlor for you. I believe he wishes to say goodbye. Jane, I hate to put this upon you, but will you act as chaperone?”

Her sister agreed.

George needed another moment. Although her appetite had yet to return, food seemed the answer. “I find I am in need of one of Cook’s excellent apple tarts.”

Georgiana swiftly downed all of a whole new tart. Alex hid her mouth behind her hand to keep from laughing.

“You know you can take some of that with you,” Alex said. “Cook will not be offended.”

“But she has already made a basket.”

“I recall you once claiming that it was impossible to have too many of her tarts.”

“Then be a dear and wrap one for me. Maybe two,” George said. “Are you ready, Jane?”

They hurried to the parlor room, glad not to find their father along the way.

Johnathan stood near a window. “I wanted to say goodbye, but I was afraid if I did so in front of your father, it would only make things worse.”

Jane studied a painting near the door. George joined Johnathan at the window.

“Your instincts may be right,” she said.

“May I have permission to write to you?” Johnathan asked.

“You wish to write to me?” George asked, surprised.

“Of course. We were just getting to know one another.”

“Exchanging letters, um—” George watched her hands twist her skirt. “It is not proper when we do not have an understanding.”

Johnathan leaned closer. “I intended to ask your father if I may court you. If he gave his permission would it be proper then?”

She raised her eyes to his face. Was he in earnest? Her breath caught. He was looking at her as if she was adored. No, wanted. No, that was not accurate either. There was not a description for what his eyes were doing as they begged for her to agree.

“You may write. Although, from what Father says, I do not know if my aunt will allow it.”

“I shall be spending a great deal of time in London,” Johnathan said. “Are you sure I will not see you before the spring?”

“It is unlikely. Father will not pay to have me back, and the roads can be quite hazardous in the winter—or so I understand.”

Johnathan held out his hand. George set hers in it.

“Then until we meet again.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and dropped a kiss on her knuckles, his eyes intently watching hers.

“Until we meet again.” Her words were not as firm as she wished. Too breathless, too desperate.

He dropped her hand, bowed, and strode from the room. Leaving the warmth of her hand as the only reminder of the touch.

Jane was immediately at her side. “Did he kiss your hand?”

Unable to form words, George nodded.

“What else? Did he ask to write to you?”

“You’re the eavesdropper. You know exactly what was said.”

“Well, I do, but I wanted you to confirm it.”

George turned from the window. “Yes. If you’ll be kind enough to slip at least his first letter in with yours.”

“How do you know I will write to you?”

“How can you possibly not? I will write to you at the first chance I get,” George promised. “But not from inside the moving carriage.”

“Then expect a letter no longer than a day or two after you arrive.”

“You are the darlingest of sisters. I shall miss you.”

Jane stepped back, out of reach. “Please, I do not wish to cry in front of Father. Do not let me start now.”

“Very well. Let’s go find Alex—and pilfer all the leftover tarts and egg bakes that Cook has made.” Food would keep her from crying, at least for now.

The curtain hid Johnathan from view—or so he hoped—as he watched the scene below. It was as predictable as it was heart wrenching.

Sir Lightwood’s farewell was brief. Though from the window it was difficult to tell if it was a farewell or the barking of orders as he handed over a missive to Georgiana. He returned inside long before the rest of the farewells were over.

A few servants hovered near edges, most notably the gardener, who snuck a box into the boot of the carriage.

The oddity that the household staff seemed more distraught at Georgiana’s departure than her father twisted Johnathan’s heart.

Grandfather said that the men of the peerage could be cold and unfeeling toward their families, yet nothing prepared him for the reality he witnessed over the past fortnight.

A man who would bring his paramour to his home and attempt to install her in his deceased wife’s room.

A man who could dismiss his daughter because another was not interested in her.

A man that, if Johnathan chose, he could prevent from gaining more power.

Never could Johnathan be that man. Lord Godderidge, from what little he saw while preparing for and holding the harvest fair, did not appear to be that man, so it was possible.

As for the earl, he cared for his family now, but from their conversations, that might not have always been the case.

Proof being in the fact his daughter married Sir Lightwood under some sort of duress.

The other daughter had been cut off for some time for marrying a man deemed far below her.

At last a footman helped Georgiana into the carriage. While climbing in she turned on the step and looked up at his room. Was it his imagination, or did she give the barest of waves? He pressed his hand to the glass in case she had.

It was as likely as not that five months apart would accomplish exactly what her father sought.

They had made no declaration of feeling and no more than a small depth of friendship.

Writing her would help deepen that, only if she was allowed to receive his letters.

For the aunt could stop them. And even then it would be difficult, as letters were not conversations, sometimes it was near impossible to discern a meaning without knowing if the other person smiled or frowned.

He would not know if she was twisting her skirt because she was unsure how to respond or worried.

One could hide many things in words or not express them at all.

What if his bold request was premature? Not all courtships ended in marriage, and she was still young. Perhaps her hesitation should have been heeded, and he asked amiss. English society followed so many rules, there needed to be a book. If only they had more time together.

Alexandra and Jane stood on the drive long after the carriage drove out of sight, holding each other.

Johnathan waited until they retreated into the house to leave his place by the window.

Already the house felt emptier. He went in search of his cousins.

The least he could do for Georgiana was to see to their comfort.