Love’s Betrayal (35 page)

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Authors: DiAnn Mills

BOOK: Love’s Betrayal
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When Mr. LaTournay reappeared, Georgette felt certain he—in record time—had washed up and changed clothing. He smelled fresh; she smelled like a dustrag.

He took Caramel from her and tucked the dog under one arm. She looked up at him. “You have carried him and that basket much of the day; your arms must ache.”

A smile curled the corners of his mustache. “He weighs no more than fifteen pounds.” He started to say more but appeared to reconsider. “Shall we go?”

During their light supper at the tavern, Georgette caught herself yawning. Her dog slept under the table, too tired even for begging. Feeling Mr. LaTournay's gaze, she looked up and smiled. “An excess of sun and exercise has fatigued both Caramel and me, I fear.”

“You will have need of a wrap before the evening ends,” he said. His warm regard gave her the desire to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Should have covered up better earlier today,” Mr. Pringle remarked. He reached across the table and pressed three fingers into her skin. “Look at that—she is sunburned. What a pity.”

Georgette jerked her arm away. Mr. Pringle's blue eyes mocked her.

“Georgette has flawless skin. A touch of pink won't hurt this once,” Marianne said. “I hope it doesn't hurt, Gigi, but at least you don't freckle.”

Georgette attempted to smile, inwardly seething. If that man touched her once more, she would kick him in the shin.

When they reached the Talbots' town house, Mr. Pringle joined Mr. LaTournay in the parlor while Marianne followed Georgette upstairs. Caramel hopped upon the bed and curled into a ball.

Georgette dropped her bonnet beside him. “Ugh, my gown is full of road dust.” She gave her skirts a shake. “And neither Biddy nor Agnes is here today.”

“I shall be pleased to brush it for you.” Marianne unbuttoned Georgette's gown and helped her climb out of its folds. “You must have walked far today to get this dusty.” She waved one hand before her face as if to dispel a cloud.

“We walked up the shore to meet the generals. You are a dear to do this for me. We shall probably meet my parents at the landing. They admire Governor Tryon.” Georgette pulled out her hairpins and tried to brush dust from her hair.

“So do mine.” Marianne paused with the clothes brush poised over Georgette's gown. “Gigi, are you certain Mr. LaTournay is a loyal subject of the king? At times he says things that make me uncomfortable.”

Coming from Marianne, the implication annoyed Georgette. “Mr. LaTournay studies all sides of an issue before making a decision. He says we should listen and learn from men wiser than ourselves. He is admired throughout the province, Marianne.” She almost told her friend that he had been introduced to General Washington but reconsidered. Marianne would not understand the tacit honor.

“I am pleased to see how fond you have become of Mr. LaTournay, dear Gigi, but I do wish you would be more discreet. You cannot know how it affects a man to have a woman touch him. Holding his hand may mean nothing to you, but that contact can mean unimaginable temptation to a gentleman, my mother says.”

“If this is true, try keeping an eye on that man of yours,” Georgette growled around the hairpin she held between her teeth.

A crease formed between Marianne's brows while she vigorously brushed at the gown. “Be patient with Mr. Pringle, and give the Lord time to work.”

“You do not plan to marry him, I trust.” Georgette stopped brushing her hair long enough to study her friend's face. “He is not good enough for you.”

Marianne smiled. “You need not worry, Gigi, although you are sweet to care. I could never marry a man who did not love my Lord Jesus. Mr. Pringle knows this.”

“He is insincere.”

“He is a flirt,” Marianne said. To Georgette's surprise, her friend's expression revealed indulgent amusement. “He tells me he originally sought me out because he heard that my father was wealthy. You see, his family business in Boston has come into hard times. But now Mr. Pringle has worked everything out with my father, who bought into the Pringle shipping business as a partner. Papa says he would rather be business partners with his future son-in-law than with anyone else.”

Georgette felt stunned. “Your father has taken partnership in a failing business? Was that wise?”

“They have signed a contract with the army using Pringle ships and warehouses, you see. Papa knows a good business transaction when he sees one. Besides, he recognizes Mr. Pringle's skill with numbers and money. Mr. Pringle is smart and hardworking. He is dedicated to England and has nothing good to say about these traitors who are trying to destroy the empire. His current goal is to catch an informant they call the Frog, an infamous traitor they have reason to believe makes this city his center of operation.”

“The Frog? What a ludicrous title!” Georgette's hair crackled with each stroke of the brush.

“Mr. Pringle says he is slippery and always one jump ahead,” Marianne said with a smile. “I do not know who first thought up the epithet, but it seems to suit this slimy traitor. He wears a dark cloak and never shows his face. Some say he is an insane French soldier who believes he is still fighting the last war. Whatever and whoever he is, Mr. Pringle says he must be stopped.”

Georgette's arm paused in midair. “Oh?”

“Mr. Pringle and two other men have set a trap to catch the Frog. Something to do with ammunition stores up in White Plains. For Mr. Pringle's sake, I pray they are successful. How he hates the rebels! Did you see his eyes flash at the mere mention of Washington? And, oh Gigi, the truth is I love him. He makes me feel special and beautiful. When I look into his wondrous blue eyes, nothing else in the world matters at all.”

“I would not have thought he could appreciate you, dear Marianne.” Georgette's arm felt limp. She let it drop to her side.

“It is amazing, the changes God can make in a man's heart— or a woman's,” Marianne said. “I shall be happy with my reformed scoundrel, Gigi. I know his faults and love him dearly in spite of them.”

Marianne chattered about Lester Pringle's virtues while Georgette gave herself a quick sponge bath behind a screen. Out of Marianne's sight, Georgette allowed her thoughts to wander. Surely this Frog could not be her mysterious admirer. Many men wore hooded cloaks; the coincidence was too unlikely.

Marianne helped her climb back into her gown, then fluffed its skirts. Georgette pinned up her own hair. “I hope you are right about Mr. Pringle, dear Marianne,” she said softly. “I would hate to see you trapped in an unhappy marriage—you, the sweetest and most unselfish of all people!”

The men rose when their two young women entered the parlor. “Thank you for waiting.” Georgette handed a silk shawl to Mr. LaTournay and turned for him to drape it over her shoulders. “I hope we are not too late for the governor's parade.”

Mr. LaTournay glanced at the mantel clock. “We should arrive in time. It is just down the street.”

Governor Tryon, a fine-looking man of military bearing, climbed the slip's steps to the foot of Broad Street and glanced around at the respectable crowd waiting to greet him. With the rest of the Loyalist crowd, Marianne and Mr. Pringle put gusto into their hurrahs. Georgette cheered hoarsely once, then fell silent, studying the people around her. Catching sight of her parents, she waved. Her mother waved back, looking more like a young girl than a matron of forty-two. Her father, on the other hand, had aged during recent months.

A salty evening breeze tugged at Georgette's bonnet. She gripped her shawl at her throat and shivered. Recalling Marianne's observation about Mr. LaTournay, she studied his face while the governor briefly addressed the crowd. He had not cheered for Tryon, but she could not recall hearing him cheer for the generals either. Though he appeared to listen to the governor's speech, his gaze roved constantly. He seemed troubled.

Had Mr. Pringle told him about the Frog?

What would she do if Mr. Pringle captured her hero? Worse yet, what if Mr. LaTournay became involved in the pursuit? How unthinkable that her dashing admirer should be hanged or shot as a spy!

Governor Tryon and his party headed up Broad Street. Georgette turned to Mr. LaTournay. “The governor looks unhappy.”

Before Mr. LaTournay could reply, Mr. Pringle rounded upon her. “And how would you feel, knowing that your city had just finished giving your opposition a welcoming parade? Did you expect him to look gratified that New York is under the control of a pack of scoundrels? He will soon set things right and punish that rabble the way he put down the Regulators when he was governor of North Carolina. You two took a risk, being seen with that mob today.”

“I think not.” Mr. LaTournay's voice sounded flat. “I saw Loyalist leaders in the throng.”

Mr. Pringle's blue eyes glittered. “Did you hear the news about the battle in Boston? His Majesty's troops gave that rabble militia a good thrashing and chased them off Charlestown Neck. Boston is ours again. Now Pringle Shipping can resume business and life will return to normal.”

“I hope your business improves,” Mr. LaTournay said.

“I am certain Mr. Grenville will also be pleased to hear the news,” Georgette remarked, “since he is now a partner in your family firm. Is it true that—?”

But Mr. Pringle had already turned aside to address Marianne. Embarrassed, Georgette fell silent.

“Is what true?” Mr. LaTournay asked quietly.

“Marianne said something about Pringle Shipping signing a contract with the army. If that is true, I imagine Mr. Pringle's financial worries must now be at an end.”

Mr. LaTournay looked thoughtful.

“Has he told you about the Frog?” she asked.

He focused on her face, his brow furrowed. “I believe I misunderstood. Please repeat your question.”

“Has Mr. Pringle told you about the spy he intends to catch? I thought you might know about this man they call the Frog. Marianne told me of plans to trap him.”

Mr. Pringle and Marianne started to join the crowd trailing the governor's retinue, then stopped and looked back. “Are you two coming?” Marianne asked.

“To be honest, since we are so near my house, I thought perhaps I would forgo this parade,” Georgette said. “Please enjoy it without me.” Her feet ached now even when she stood still.

“But I told my mother you and Mr. LaTournay would be with us this evening,” Marianne said. “It is unseemly for me to be out alone at night with a gentleman. Did any of you happen to see my parents pass us?”

Georgette thought she saw Mr. Pringle roll his eyes, but a moment later, he spoke reassuringly. “You will be safe with me, dearest. I am well able to protect you, if need be.”

“Would you feel better, Miss Grenville, if I were to accompany you and Mr. Pringle until he leaves you at your parents' doorstep?” Mr. LaTournay offered. “I promise to be unobtrusive.”

A fleeting smile touched Marianne's lips, and her lashes fluttered. Georgette could only imagine the exultation her friend must feel at the prospect of being escorted about the city by two prominent bachelors. At the moment, Georgette's feet hurt too much for her to begrudge Marianne the pleasure.

“I hardly think a chaperone will be necessary.” Smiling, Mr. Pringle spoke between clenched teeth.

“I propose that you discuss the matter while we return to my house,” Georgette suggested brightly. “This breeze is cool, and it begins to grow dark.”

Mr. LaTournay offered her his arm. Behind them, Mr. Pringle and Marianne fell into step, arguing in muted tones. “Do you approve of my offer?” Mr. LaTournay asked quietly.

“With all my heart. I do not trust that man alone with Marianne at night.”

He nodded. “I warned him away from you earlier. If he annoys you again, inform me immediately.”

Georgette looked up at his shadowy face. “Thank you.” Did anything escape his notice? “I enjoyed this day.”

“I am gratified to hear it. I hope our future together will hold many more such days.” He placed his hand over hers as they climbed the steps of her town house.

Again Georgette wished they were alone. He might have kissed her in the garden once more had Mr. Pringle and Marianne not joined their party.

“Business will take me out of the city these coming weeks. Use your time to prepare for our new life together.” He pressed a quick kiss onto Georgette's hand. “Miss Talbot, if ever it seems I neglect you, know that such is my duty, not my desire.”

Emotion filled her throat and prevented any reply. If only his stilted words rang true!

He descended the steps and joined the others. Georgette watched as Marianne took the arms of both her escorts. Their voices and laughter floated on a summer breeze.

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