An Elegant Façade (Hawthorne House Book #2) (18 page)

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Authors: Kristi Ann Hunter

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BOOK: An Elegant Façade (Hawthorne House Book #2)
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“You have provided a clean handkerchief. That is a gentleman’s duty when a lady is crying, is it not?” He had to be talking about the crying. She would never be able to face Harriette if this were the man to finally bring them down.

“Yes, of course.” He looked at the writing desk and the letter she’d been trying to make out moments earlier. His eyes traveled from the letter to her quill and on to her face before returning back to the letter.

Her tears dried instantly.

Everything in her dried. Her heart was pumping shards of glass through her veins, cutting her to ribbons from the inside out.

He knew.

What was she going to do? What was
he
going to do? He’d made no secret he disapproved of her calculated hunt for a husband. If he wanted to, he could make all of her work for naught. No one would want a wife who couldn’t read the household accounts, keep up with her own correspondence, or even accept an invitation on her own.

Spots danced before her vision, reminding her to breathe, even if the act was painful.

After another look around the room, Mr. McCrae rubbed a hand along the back of his neck and sighed. He hooked his foot around a leg of the nearby straight chair and pulled it over. The chair scraped along the floor, jarring Georgina’s nerves once more.

He sat, his knees almost brushing her own.

She watched his face, looking for a clue, an indication of what he meant to do. Because sitting beside her at the writing desk wasn’t what she expected.

Then he picked up the letter.

He cleared his throat and shifted his weight in the chair as if he couldn’t get situated. Georgina knew it to be a most comfortable chair, which meant the situation had him out of sorts.

It was confusing her as well, though she managed to maintain proper posture. A hollow victory at best.

“‘My dearest Georgina,’” he read.

Heat swelled from Georgina’s ravaged middle to her cheeks. He was going to read her the letter.

“‘How you will laugh when you learn what I have done. (I loved that line, didn’t you?) You always said we’d have to be great schemers to land ourselves the best possible husbands.’” Mr. McCrae speared Georgina with a scathing glance.

His condescension was oddly comforting. It felt a great deal more normal than his assistance.

He cleared his throat and continued. “‘Well, I’ve done it. I have truly done it, and we leave tonight for Gretna Green.’”

“What?” Georgina and Mr. McCrae uttered the question in outrage at the same time.

His eyes went straight to the bottom of the letter to discover the writer’s identity.

Georgina knew the writer to be Lady Jane, but she desperately needed to know who made up the other half of the “we” headed to Gretna Green. She prayed it was not Lord Howard. If there was a God in heaven, surely He would protect Jane from that scoundrel.

Unable to wait for Mr. McCrae to keep reading, she snatched the letter from his hand and searched the words, desperately hoping a name would form amongst the swirling letters.

But no. The more she tried, the more they swam, changing on her even as she tried to read them, blurring and moving until she wasn’t even sure where she was looking. Then the word would disappear completely and she’d be left blinking away spots.

She pushed the paper back to Mr. McCrae, who was still blinking in surprise. “Who?”

He pointed to the bottom of the note. “Lady Jane Mulberry.”

“I know it is Lady Jane, who is the man?”

“Oh, uh . . .” He looked over the letter. Jealous bile rose in Georgina’s throat at the obvious ease he felt searching the words for the desired information.

“Her mysterious H?” His handsome face scrunched into a frown of confusion.

Georgina groaned and popped up from the stool to pace the room. “Does she say when she was leaving?”

Another glance at the letter. “Eight o’clock. Her father thinks she is going to a party in Hampstead Heath, so they’ll get many miles from town before he knows they’ve fled.”

Georgina’s eyes flew to the clock, grateful that letters were the only thing that spun around when she looked at them. It was nearly nine.

She swiped the handkerchief over her cheeks to rid herself of any lingering tears. “Come along.”

It was possible Mr. McCrae was in too great a shock to follow her immediately, but he would catch her soon enough. Curiosity alone would spur him to follow her, so she flounced from the room without a backward glance.

Later she could worry about the ramifications of him knowing her secret. Just thinking about it made her breathing quicken, and right now she needed all of her faculties to be in working order. She would try to simply be thankful he’d happened along when he did and keep him too busy to do anything about what he’d learned.

Once Jane was safe at home, then Georgina could panic.

There had to be a way to get Jane safely home. Georgina had begun to suspect that Jane’s mystery man was none other than Lord Howard. The man had been a simpering fool at the poetry reading and he’d sought Jane out at every ball for the past two weeks. Even if the man had ideas of settling down, he was first and foremost a cad. If he thought he could get something from Jane, he wouldn’t hesitate.

Not that it would be difficult. Hieing off to Gretna Green probably seemed incredibly romantic to Jane.

The chime of the large clock in the downstairs hall echoed up the stairs marking the ninth hour. There was still time to save her friend, but just barely.

Chapter 18

Colin trotted after Georgina, the preposterous letter gripped in his fist. Did women really write this sort of thing to each other? Telling each other in advance of their plans to ruin themselves? And Lady Jane expected Lady Georgina to be happy about it.

Thank goodness she wasn’t. The squared shoulders marching down the corridor did not belong to someone reveling in her friend’s good fortune. Lady Georgina appeared so determined that he could almost forget how dejected and broken she’d appeared earlier. Almost.

“You.” She snagged the attention of a footman carrying a pitcher of water down the passage toward the bedchambers. “See that the traveling coach is brought round fitted with our sturdiest, fastest horses. The one without the crest.”

She continued walking before the servant could stammer out, “Yes, my lady.”

Colin lengthened his stride to keep up with her. How was she moving so fast? She was practically running, but you wouldn’t know it to look at the perfect posture gliding down the stairs. The hem of her dress was barely fluttering.

A maid carrying candles across the front hall scurried to the side as Georgina flew down the last few steps. “Pack me a bag.”

“Me, my lady?”

“Yes, you. Or Margery, if she thinks she can do it right. Just a small bag. Simple things. Country clothes. Ones I can manage myself.”

Colin took pity on the panicking maid and relieved her of the candles.

“Bless you,” she whispered before hustling to the back of the house. If she were running to get Margery, Colin could only wish her the best of luck. He assumed Margery was the crying maid he’d encountered earlier. If she’d curled into the darkest corner to lick her wounds Colin wouldn’t be surprised.

He dumped the candles on a nearby table and jogged across the large front hall to catch Georgina’s retreating form, skidding to a halt as she came to the same doors Trent had disappeared through earlier. She wasn’t going to tell all of those people, was she? Lady Jane would be ruined before she lost sight of London.

Lady Georgina poked her head in the drawing room. “Griffith?”

Colin blinked. The tone was honeyed and simpering. Gone was the steadfast general, ordering the servants to prepare for battle. In its place was the softer posture of a woman who knew her welcome and believed it her due. No one in that drawing room would know anything untoward was going on.

“Brother, may I have a word with you?”

“Georgina, we have guests.” Riverton’s voice was equal parts exasperation and condescension.

Realization crashed through Colin. Georgina wanted her brother to see her as a child, to treat as if she were incompetent. How many things had she avoided because the family simply assumed she wouldn’t or couldn’t do them?

Respect, something he never thought to have for the young lady, bloomed in his chest. None of the spies he knew, not even Ryland, could switch character as fast as Georgina. He found himself in the surprising position of being awed by more than her appearance. It was disconcerting.

Riverton stepped into the hall, pulling the drawing room door
closed behind him. The indulgent look on his face was now equal parts love and exasperation.

Georgina grasped his hands. “You have to leave right now. You have to save her.”

Concern replaced the underlying irritation on Riverton’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Jane has run off. You have to stop her, Griffith, catch her and bring her home before she ruins herself.”

Riverton’s eyes glazed over. Colin had sat across from that look on more than one occasion as the duke considered a new business opportunity. No doubt he was thinking through all the complications and possibilities. “When? Who with? Where was she heading? Did she go on horseback or by coach?”

Colin winced. He’d never got to finish reading the letter to Georgina. She wouldn’t know the answers to those questions. While he couldn’t begin to understand why or even how she’d kept this secret from her family, this was not the best time to be forced to reveal it. Time was of the essence.

Should he step in? Offer what he knew?

Before he could make a decision, Lady Georgina started to cry.

She ripped the letter from Colin’s hand and shoved it at her brother’s chest. “Here.” She sobbed. “Everything I know”—hiccup—“is in here.”

Colin gave her a mental round of applause. If she ever decided to throw propriety to the wind, she could find a career on the stage.

Trent stepped into the hall. “What’s going on?”

“Lady Jane is making a colossal mistake.” Riverton waved the letter in the air. “I’d send round to her father, but they’ve already been gone an hour.”

“Not to mention her father is rubbish on horseback and doesn’t own his own coach.” Trent grimaced as his eyes flew over the letter.

“Who is her ‘mysterious H’?” Griffith looked disgusted by the secretive pet name.

Lady Georgina hiccupped. “Lord Howard. They’ve been inseparable for weeks.”

Colin glanced back at Georgina, sniffling delicately into a handkerchief. He knew his mind should be consumed with the problem at hand, but it was stuck on the fascinating revelation about Lady Georgina. How had she reached adulthood without learning to read? Why?

Riverton folded the letter, using his thumb and finger to sharpen the creases. “I have to go after her.”

“And let the biggest gossips in London wonder what took you away?” Trent took the letter back. “No, I’ll go. No one will miss me.”

Georgina’s hand tightened on her handkerchief until the knuckles paled. “We have to hurry. She could be halfway to Scotland by now.”

Riverton shook his head. “No more than a few miles down the road, assuming she actually left when she said she would.”

The glare from Lady Georgina’s narrowed eyes would have gored a bloody hole through Riverton’s chest if he gave credence to the intangible. Colin leaned against the wall, watching the family byplay with increasing interest.

Lady Georgina sniffled. “Regardless, we should depart immediately.”

Trent’s eyes widened. “We? I’ll travel much faster without you.”

“And once you’ve found her? How will you get her home?” She jabbed her fists onto her hips.

With a frown, Trent conceded the point.

The footman Georgina had sent for the coach entered the hall, trying desperately not to appear curious, and failing. “My lady—”

“Charles, have the traveling coach brought round. The unmarked one,” Riverton said.

Alarm and confusion filled the footman’s face as he looked back and forth between the brother and sister. Colin pressed a fist to his mouth, hoping the sharp pinch of teeth against lips would keep the threatening laughter contained.

Georgina lifted a single brow.

“Right away, my lord.” The footman scurried away.

Colin shook his head. When he’d walked in the house an hour ago, he’d have said Lady Georgina was riding the tide of her brother’s influence. It was very obvious now that she was controlling her own destiny in this family, despite what many would term a shortcoming.

Did that mean he was wrong about other things when it came to this woman?

Trent ran a hand over his cravat. “I’ll change coats and cravats. Everything else will pass well enough, but we don’t want to make it obvious that we’re leaving town in a hurry.”

“I’ll pack a bag.” Lady Georgina followed Trent across the hall to the stairs.

Riverton looked to the drawing room door, no doubt dreading the curious people he’d face when he returned.

“What will you tell them?” Colin asked.

Riverton’s eyes widened in his serious face. He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Nothing.”

What would it be like to walk in a room and not strategize his way through the evening? “Must be nice to be the duke.”

“It has its moments.” Riverton straightened his jacket and reached for the drawing room door as Lady Georgina scampered back down the stairs.

Riverton looked at the bag with raised eyebrows but said nothing before he returned to the gathering.

Colin debated joining him, just to witness the men trying to get the duke to gossip like a society matron. Colin’s sudden presence would no doubt add to the speculation. Fun though it would be, he didn’t need his name in the gossip mill. When people were talking about you, they were less likely to talk to you.

“Are you ready?” Lady Georgina asked.

Colin looked about the entry hall. Apparently she was talking to him. “For what?”

She rolled her eyes. “To go?”

Trent joined them, a tan coat in place of his dark evening one. “You mean for Colin to come with us?”

Colin’s surprise exceeded Trent’s. Why on earth would he go? He wasn’t family, had barely even spoken to Lady Jane on two less-than-memorable occasions.

Georgina glided to the door, a clenched fist on the handle of her valise the only outward sign of her distress. “If you get beat to a pulp rescuing Jane from Lord Howard’s clutches, we’ll need Mr. McCrae to escort us home. It’s not ideal, granted, so do try not to become incapacitated.”

Colin liked to think he had a decent grasp of how the softer side of the population thought, but he was beginning to think he didn’t understand them at all. If all their minds worked liked Lady Georgina’s, it was a wonder that any man could maintain a sensible conversation with a woman.

Trent crossed to the door with a shrug. “Care to join us on this little adventure? At least you’ll provide me with some pleasant company.”

Trent glared at Georgina as they settled into the coach seats. He was probably mad at her for that crack about his getting beaten. Her brother did like to pride himself on his pugilistic skills, and Lord Howard wasn’t known for being very athletic. The fact was Georgina needed Mr. McCrae on this trip. Like it or not, he knew her secret and had thus far shown no intention of revealing it.

Her heart pounded against her chest once more as the fact that her secret was exposed now insisted on being addressed. She gritted her teeth and shoved her fears away. With Trent in the carriage she couldn’t risk a conversation with Mr. McCrae. Unless he began to share with Trent, she could wait for a more secluded opportunity.

She hated having to bring him with her, but she needed to keep an eye on him and learn what he planned to do with his newfound information. Besides, with Harriette unfit to travel, Georgina needed him in case she came across another note from Jane or some other missive in need of attention. Relying on the insufferable man
for anything made her unsettled, but it was better than bringing someone else into her confidence.

Instead of pulling straight out of London, the coach crossed the square and headed deeper into Mayfair.

“Where are we going? This isn’t the North Road.” Georgina jerked away from the window as the coach rolled down St. James’s Street. She couldn’t be seen in this area of town. Her reputation would be ruined.

“I have to pick something up.” Mr. McCrae watched out the window, perched on the edge of his seat.

The coach turned onto Pall Mall, and Mr. McCrae jumped out before the vehicle had rolled to a complete stop. Georgina tried to see where they were but couldn’t risk showing her face in the window. The coach was unmarked. They didn’t need anyone wondering why the duke’s family was traveling in an unmarked carriage.

Before she could slide across the seat to get a better look out the window, Mr. McCrae was climbing back in. The carriage began moving again as he pulled the door closed. His arm was wrapped around a small leather bag. A long strap dangled nearly to the floor.

“What is that?” Trent and Georgina asked at the same time, the siblings craning their necks to see the bag as Mr. McCrae settled into his seat.

“Let’s hope I don’t have to tell you.” He slid the bag between his hip and the wall, covering it with his coat as if hoping his companions would forget it was there.

Little chance of that, but nothing more was said about it as they rolled out of town.

Trent turned the discussion to sport, which suited Georgina fine. Whatever kept the men occupied suited her. She hadn’t the faintest idea of how to rescue Jane. Though she hated to admit it, she was simply along for the ride, next to useless until they actually located the fool girl.

“We’re an hour out of London.” Trent pushed the curtain aside
to watch the trees fly by. “Let’s start checking inns. At the very least they’ll have to stop somewhere and change horses or take a meal. They may not even push very far, thinking anyone coming after them would race right past.”

The road to Gretna Green was littered with inns, and the men spent a great deal of debate over which ones to check. Visiting them all would take too long.

There was also the question of who should go in and inquire after Lord Howard. They couldn’t mention Jane or her reputation would be ruined, whether they found her tonight or not.

In the end Georgina stayed in the coach with the footman standing guard at the door while both men went in. If it looked like they planned to meet Lord Howard there, their inquiries would garner considerably less suspicion. The ruse took all too much time as far as Georgina was concerned. It was somewhat frightening to sit in the carriage alone.

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