Fates for Apate (26 page)

Jack spoke up again. "Would you rather stay here or with us tonight?"

George felt a glimmer of her usual attitude return. "Are you saying I can't go home?"

"I'm sure Quince and Sabre would be happy to host us all for the evening," the earl said.

* * *

Casimir held his wife tightly all night. Even the luxurious bedding in the duke's guest room couldn't help him sleep. What if she had been truly hurt? Or abducted? He didn't feel equal to the task of protecting her. He knew that it was greedy on some level, wanting her safe. She held his heart. If something happened to her, he would lose part of himself as well. When she became restless in her sleep just before dawn he kissed her awake.

* * *

George felt more like herself at breakfast. Jack and her earl had the energy of early risers, most likely having been up for hours. Sabre and Quince came into their breakfast room bleary-eyed, as though seeing the room before noon was a novelty. She bit her lip to keep from laughing at them all. As she expected, her friends immediately set to solving the problem of their household staff, because certainly a butler and full complement of footmen would have forestalled Sims's attacked. George tended to doubt their logic. Spies were trained to be creatures of opportunity. Sims had obviously underestimated her, but not by much. He had found her weaponless and alone. But if he had known that there were household staff to contend with, he would have waited for a different opportunity. But the Telfords and Harringtons shortly parsed out who they would lend from their own staffs so that the Rokiczanas would have a sufficient household while interviewing for their own hiring. 

Then Robert arrived.

Casimir rose, tension evident in his posture. Robert looked around the room, considering whom to address himself to and finally decided it should be Casimir.

"Sims was offered money, quite a sum, by a man named Otto to bring you and George back to Prussia. His assumption was that once he had George, you would come willingly enough."

"How confident are you that he's told you everything?"

"Strongly. If you've made a man, you know how to destroy him."

The duke asked, "What does this Otto want?"

Casimir answered, "Most likely to recover the letter or, failing that, ensure that we weren't able to stand in witness to the fact that he was the intended recipient."

"The letter," Robert said, "and Herr Otto, have certainly attracted the attention of the Home Secretary."

"I suspected it might," Casimir said. "And it's possible that Otto simply wanted to have his revenge on me before the diplomatic implications affected him."

"The question I have," Gideon said, "is whether this Otto and Granby have a longer association?"

"It will take some time to identify that," Robert said.

Casimir looked down at George and cocked his brow. She thought she knew what he was asking and nodded. He addressed himself to Robert again. "We could go."

"What?" Even Robert looked startled.

George smiled up at her husband. "If we're served up to Otto on a silver platter he won't suspect that we're actually there to find out about this Granby person."

"No," Jack said. "It's too dangerous."

Sabre sat back in her chair. "I have to agree with Jack about this."

Robert shook his head. "And he's expecting Sims."

Casimir shrugged. "Sims has a partner take us back because of business in England."

George nodded. "You could even take us yourself, Robert."

"I'll think on it."

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F
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IGHT

Once enclosed in the carriage that the duke had lent for their ride home, Casimir took Gini's hands. "I don't know what I was thinking. Last night I was up worrying about how to protect you, then this morning I suggested taking you on a dangerous trip."

She squeezed his hands. "I love that you have confidence in me."

That was the closest she had come to saying she loved him. At first his heart reveled, and then it twisted with the realization of what she still hadn't said.

The ride had been short, and they were descending the carriage steps before he had a chance to revive their conversation.

The Telford and Harrington households had already sent servants, because the man who opened the front door was unknown to him, which was a bit disconcerting. He would need to find Wladek and ascertain what was going on. Before he could, however, the unknown butler said, "There is a Mr. Lockhart waiting in the drawing room, sir."

Gini curled her hand in his. If Lockhart were here then it was most likely bad news. They could only hope that James and Sarah had made it home after the wedding in enough time to say goodbye to their mother. Gini didn't seem inclined to move, so Casimir pulled her by the hand until they were standing at the drawing room doorway.

Lockhart rose to greet them and Casimir saw that everything he had spent the night agonizing over was reflected in the man's eyes. Loss and grief so powerful that it was nearly overwhelming.

"Georgiana, I came to tell you-" her father's voice choked off.

Gini nodded. "It was very kind of you to come."

Her voice was nearly toneless. If her hand hadn't tightened in his to a nearly crushing grip he would have suspected it hadn't affected her at all. Perhaps the English ruthlessly repressed their emotions, but he was a Pole. Seeing Lockhart's grief moved him. Letting go of Gini's hand, he approached his father in law, the only father he had now, and pulled the man into a hug. Lockhart's embrace had the same tension and desperation that Gini's hand had in his own.

After a moment Casimir let him go and said, "We would offer you refreshment, but I'm not sure we have any. Well, other than half a crate of vodka."

Lockhart actually laughed, even if it was a sad and hollow sound. "Tea might be better at this time of day."

Casimir turned to his wife. "Do we even have any tea?"

"I'm sure Sabre sent something. I'll ring for it."

His Gini was awkward and stiff as she went to the bell pull. He was tempted to ask the staff to put something in the tea, since both father and daughter were so upset. He wasn't entirely sure why they weren't consoling one another. They both had said her relationship with her mother was strained, but was it with her father as well?

The staff seemed bent on proving their efficiency, and shortly the tea was served, leaving the three of them in an awkward conversation circle.

"Sarah said it was a beautiful wedding," Lockhart ventured. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there."

When Gini didn't respond, Casimir stepped in. "We understand, of course. I can't imagine what I would do if anything happened to Gini."

The look she gave him was nearly baleful. What was wrong with her? She returned her gaze to her father. "I appreciate you bringing the news, but there is no longer any need to keep up this charade."

Casimir was slightly heartened that Lockhart looked as confused as he felt. "Charade?"

She very carefully set her cup in it's saucer and folded her hands in her lap. "I know you're not my father."

Lockhart set his cup down as well and ran his hands through his hair with a sigh. "How long have you known?"

"A long time," she said quietly.

"I was as much father to you as your mother would allow."

She nodded and stared down at her clasped hands. "I just wanted you to know you don't have to pretend anymore. I won't tell your real children, of course."

"Georgiana."

She shook her head. "It's all right. I've known a long time."

Casimir stared at his wife in disbelief. Hearing that Lockhart wasn't her real father had been a shock, of course, but it was as though she didn't understand how much the man loved her. He didn't know what to do with her short of beaning her on the head. Instead he said to his father in law, "You would love the painting that Gini did while I was in Derbyshire. What is that style called,
ukochany
?
Trompe l'oeil
? You should bring it down to show to your father."

Gini glared at him again.

"
Trompe l'oeil
," Lockhart said, nodding. "Deceiving the eye. I remember when you and Thomas obsessed over it."

Not just love and pride, but acceptance. Why wasn't she allowing herself to see how Lockhart felt about her? And, even more concerning to himself, was she similarly blind to his own feelings about her? He would have thought his feelings were evident, but so were Lockhart's. A man didn't collect and display the artwork of a child he felt was less than his own. Didn't remember small details like a particular style of painting that was most likely a  passing fancy for the talented and precocious child she must have been. Since she didn't seem inclined to fetch the painting he tried another tactic. "Perhaps you can see it later this week. You will be staying with us for a few days, won't you?"

Lockhart looked back and forth between his daughter and son in law. "I shouldn't stay in Town for that long. The children need me."

Casimir turned to his wife. "Tell your father that you would like for him to stay."

C
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F
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George had always imagined that Lockhart would face the truth with a good deal of relief. She wasn't really his daughter. An interloper in his household, accepted and supported only because of his attachment to the wife he so clearly loved. But he didn't seem relieved at all. He just seemed like papa. How long had it been since she had called him papa? Years. She avoided calling him anything when she could, otherwise it was the more formal 'father' now.

She blinked at her husband. Had he actually just issued an order to her? She wasn't sure whether or not to be outraged. Casimir didn't issue orders. He flirted and teased and cajoled. But just now he had chosen to be directive. As she looked at him she realized that the question she should ask herself was if she trusted him. If she did then she should trust that whatever he was doing, it was for a reason.

Looking back at the man who had raised her, she said, "Papa, we would love it if you could stay with us."

"Of course, Georgiana."

"Gini," she said.

* * *

George felt oddly light after admitting the truth in front of both her husband and, for lack of a better word, father. Enough so that the next morning she sent notes to both of the Haberdashers that she would like to have tea with them at Sabre's house. A short carriage ride later, she was on the steps of the Telford household again. She was nervous, but also giddy. The servants ushered her inside and led her to Sabre's drawing room. Jack was already there, cup of tea in hand.

"What is it now?" Sabre asked, her tone teasing, but her eyes roving over George to ensure that there wasn't a problem

George pulled up a chair and sat on it cross-legged, as she did when they were children. Sabre looked affronted but Jack just chuckled.

"I have some things to tell you," George said, "and I might as well be comfortable for once while I do it."

Sabre nodded as though granting a boon to a favored retainer. 

George rolled her eyes but continued. "I know that you're both upset that I didn't tell you I was working for Robert, but I've been keeping secrets a lot longer than that."

Sabre raised a brow but Jack just said, "Like what, Georgie?"

Now that the moment had come it felt like her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. Finally in a rush she said, "Lockhart isn't my real father."

Jack's mouth fell open and Sabre bobbled her teacup. "What?" the two Haberdashers said in unison.

"And I am twenty." George put her hand over her mouth for a moment. "I'm sorry, Sabre, but I am the oldest. They hid my age so that it wouldn't be obvious my mother was pregnant long before their wedding."

Jack shook her head. "How can you even get away with that?"

"Father took her to the continent for an extended trip. By the time they returned they said I was a precocious three instead of four."

Sabre nodded. "Clever."

Jack shook her head. "That's why you were always the tallest until you stopped growing a good two years before I did."

George nodded. "I'm sorry."

"How long have you known?" Sabre asked, suspicious.

"Since about a month before we formed the Haberdashers."

Sabre tipped her head to the side, considering. "That sound about right."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked.

"Don't you remember?" Sabre asked. "George had been sick and withdrawn. That's part of why I came up with the Haberdashers. I thought it might be fun enough to get her out of her doldrums."

George sighed. "It did. And I know that I've been lying to you, but you're both very important to me. The day I found out that I was, well, that I was a bastard, it felt like I lost my family. When we formed the Haberdashers it felt like I had a new one."

Jack had tears in her eyes. "Oh, Georgie."

"Anyway, since I talked to papa and Casimir about it last night, I knew I needed to tell you today."

"Who else have you told?" Sabre asked.

"No one."

"Never?"

"Who would I tell, if not you two?"

"Well, obviously there's Robert. Or maybe Charlie. Or Tom."

"Fine, I hear what you're saying. But no, I never told anyone."

Jack rose and came over to kiss George on top of the head. "You poor thing. You could have told us. We love you."

George sighed and pulled her knees up. "I didn't feel very lovable."

"For twelve years?" Sabre asked.

George nodded. "Pretty much."

"Wait," Jack said, "I just realized you said your father is here. Does that mean...?"

"Yes, he came to tell me that mama had passed away."

"Oh, Georgie, I'm so sorry."

Sabre nodded. "My sympathies, George."

George scowled. "I think we all know that I'd be much more upset if one of your mothers died."