To Win the Lady (18 page)

‘Why, get
dressed, miss.’ She went to the large wardrobe. ‘What shall you wear? The blue
or the pea-green?’

‘Neither. I do
not feel well; I think I shall remain in bed all day. You may tell that to
anyone who comes for me. Last night’s exertion...’

Fanny, who had
known her since she was a tiny girl and fetched her out of many a scrape,
turned from selecting clothes to smile at her. ‘Who’ll believe that, when they
know you think nothing of staying up all night with a mare who’s foaling? You
are inexhaustible.’

‘Then perhaps
Lord Barbour will take the hint and realise I do not want to speak to him.’

‘He is very
persistent, that one. He won’t give up that easily.’

‘And I will not
give in that easily. Now I am going back to sleep. You may go, Fanny.’ And she
lay back on the pillows and shut her eyes. She knew she would not sleep and she
hated lying in bed, but anything was better than facing his lordship. And so
early in the day, too.

At two o’clock
Fanny brought her a light meal and the news that his lordship had been
disappointed not to see her and wished her well. ‘I heard he is coming back
tomorrow afternoon,’ her maid told her. ‘So what excuse will you give then for
not seeing him?’

Georgie had
been nurturing the fond hope that her uncle would refuse to allow the match,
but now that that was dashed she did not see how she could refuse to see his
lordship. She could not marry him, she just could not. Somehow or other she
must make a success of the stables. She must make people respect her as a
horse-breeder and trainer and forget that she was a woman. She must put aside
all womanly traits and concentrate on business affairs. Felicity must have her
dowry and she must live alone at Rowan Park and to hell with her reputation.
She smiled wryly; if thoughts and language like that entered her head so
easily, then she was already halfway to being the man. Then why did she feel
like crying: men did not cry, did they?

Although she
went down to dinner, she did not see the Colonel, who had gone to a meeting
with some government officials and was dining with them; it was not until
breakfast next morning that she was able to talk to him about it. They were
alone at the table; her aunt and sister were still in their rooms.

‘Of course you
must not marry the man if you hold him in aversion,’ her uncle said. ‘I did not
know you were so against the match or I would not have agreed to let him speak
to you. Mrs Bertram led me to believe you would look on his suit with favour.’

‘I am afraid
Aunt Harriet is too much of an optimist, uncle, though I did agree to think
about it. I have thought and we just would not suit.’

‘Do you mind
telling me why?’

‘I can’t. I...’

‘Is there
someone else?’

‘No, of course
not.’ Georgie’s answer was a little too quick; colour flooded her face and she
could not meet his eyes. He knew he had hit the nail on the head. ‘I am, and
will remain, an old maid.’

He reached out and
put his hand over hers. ‘You are too young for that, my dear.’

‘Then a hoyden.
I live for my horses.’

‘His lordship
gave me to understand that he did not object to that-within reason. Wives of
peers can get away with a little eccentric behaviour now and again which would
not be tolerated in a young unmarried woman. And his name would give your
stables some credence.’

‘I am conscious
of that, Uncle, but it doesn’t make any difference. One must surely like the
man one marries, even if it is a business arrangement, and I do not like him. I
shall tell him so, when he calls.’

‘I hope you may
not be so blunt.’

Georgie
laughed; it was a hollow sound, devoid of humour. ‘No, I shall try and let him
down lightly.’

‘Do not be too
hasty, Georgiana. Tell him you need more time to think about it. That would not
hurt, would it?’

‘It would be
dishonest, Uncle. I do not need more time.’

He stood up to
leave. ‘It is your decision, my dear. I have already told his lordship that I
will not influence it. Now, I have work to do.’ And with that he took his
leave.

Georgie did not
feel like eating. She rose and hurried out to the stables and sent Tom to hire
a hack. She wanted to ride; riding had always helped her to overcome any fit of
the blue devils and today it would be even more significant because being on
the back of a horse would show her just what her life would be like when that
was all she had to give her fulfilment. While he was gone she went upstairs and
changed into her new red habit and set her tall feathered hat on her short
curls. By the time she returned to the stables, Tom was back with the horse.

He helped her
mount and as she rode out of the yard and down the drive he saddled one of the
carriage horses, hoping fervently that neither the Colonel nor Mrs Bertram would
want to drive out before he returned. He could not let his mistress ride alone;
his father would skin him alive if he heard of it.

Georgie, only
half aware that she had an escort, rode confidently through the traffic of
Oxford Street and turned into Hyde Park. Here she left the usual rides to
canter across the grass to an area not so frequented, making it very difficult
for Tom to keep up with her. It became even more difficult when she broke into
a gallop. He reined in and watched as she pushed the hack to go faster. It was
not one of her high-breds but even so it didn’t seem to be doing too badly. And
then he gasped and dug his heels into his mount as the horse ahead stumbled and
Georgie went flying over its head and into a patch of bushes.

She was unconscious
when he reached her. He bent over her to make sure she was still breathing and
then straightened up to look about him. He was only a stripling and did not
think he could lift her and, even if he managed it, he could not put her across
her horse like a sack of grain, nor ride supporting her. He needed to fetch
help. There were a few early riders and carriages in the Row; he remounted and
rode hell for leather for the nearest.

Georgie came to
her senses to find herself lying in the arms of Major Baverstock. For a moment
she thought she was having a dream, and a very enjoyable, though scandalous,
one it was. Not even in her waking moments had she dared to imagine what it
would be like to be held in his arms; how could her subconscious betray her so?
She stirred and a sharp pain at the back of her head forced her into reality.
It was reality. Richard was kneeling on the ground with her head in his lap and
looking down at her with such a look of concern in his eyes, it made her heart
leap.

‘Lie still. Your
groom has gone for a carriage to take you home.’

‘Home,’ she
murmured.

‘I meant your
aunt’s home. Did you suppose you were at Rowan Park?’

‘Yes. No. Oh,
dear... Where am I? What are you doing here?’

‘Looking after
you until Tom gets back. It was fortunate that I, like you, enjoy riding out
early.’ He looked up as the sound of a carriage could be heard. ‘Here it is.
Now I am going to lift you as carefully as I can on to the seat. I am afraid it
might hurt a little. But we’ll soon have you home.’

It was painful,
so much so that she almost lost her senses again and did not fully recover them
until she was safely in her bed and a doctor was bending over her.

‘No broken
bones,’ he said, leaning over her. ‘But you’ve had a nasty bump on your head.
Can you see me?’

‘Yes.’

He smiled.
‘Only one of me?’

‘Yes.’

‘How many
fingers am I holding up?’

‘Three.’

‘Good. You have
been lucky, Miss Paget. Now, all I prescribe is rest and, if the pain becomes
too unbearable, perhaps a little laudanum.’ As she tried to struggle into a
sitting position he pressed her back on the pillows and added, ‘No quick
movements; gently does it or you will make yourself swoon.’

He turned to
her aunt who was hovering anxiously. ‘Please see that the patient is not
disturbed or troubled by anything for the next two or three days. Time is all
that’s needed.’

Georgie’s
effort to try and sit had left her breathless and exhausted and she was glad
enough to be left alone to sleep. She drifted off, smiling to herself in spite
of her throbbing head. Now she would not have to receive Lord Barbour, not
today anyway! And she had been in Richard’s arms. And he had kissed her after
he had lifted her into the carriage and sat on the floor so that he could hold
her on the seat. He had, hadn’t he? She had not dreamed it. The memory of that
butterfly touch on her cheek would have to sustain her in the future because it
was all she would ever know of love.

When she woke,
she found Felicity sitting by her bedside and Fanny busy arranging a huge basket
of flowers on the table by the window. There were more flowers on the
mantelshelf and on other tables round the room. ‘Where did they all come from?’
she asked, astonished that anyone could have heard of the accident so quickly
and taken the trouble to send flowers.

‘Most came from
Lord Barbour.’ Felicity told her. ‘He has been almost camping on the doorstep
and anxious to know when he can see you. Aunt Harriet has been keeping him at
bay.’

‘And the rest?
He surely did not send them all?’

‘That basket by
the window came from Lady Hereward and Juliette with their good wishes, and the
vaseful on that table from Mrs Sopwithy, and those from Major Baverstock.’ She
pointed to a small posy of marguerites almost hidden by the foliage of an
ostentatious basket of hothouse lilies. ‘He brought you home, did you know
that?’

‘Yes, though I
was out of my senses most of the time.’

‘He said you
had been galloping. I am afraid Aunt Harriet will ring a peal over you the
minute Roscow says you are fit enough. It is just not done in town, you know.
And you were alone.’

‘Tom...’

‘He could not
keep up with you. He saw you thrown and went for help. Fortunately the first
person he approached was the Major, so there will not be a scandal about it.’

‘I am sorry to
have been so much trouble to everyone.’

‘No matter. We
are all prodigious relieved no lasting harm has been done.’

‘How long must
I stay in bed?’

‘Until you feel
well enough to get up without becoming dizzy.’

‘Then I shall
remain dizzy just as long as I possibly can.’

‘Goodness,
Georgie, whatever for?’

‘Until Lord
Barbour tires of coming. I simply cannot face him.’

‘Well, of
course, if you do not want to, you do not have to, but he is not going to give
in, you know. He has been here every day.’

‘Every day?’
Georgie repeated. ‘How long have I been lying here?’

‘Three days and
three nights. The first was the worst, you were in some sort of delirium and we
were very worried. Oh, you do not know how glad I am to see you restored to
your senses.’

‘Did I talk
much?’

‘Not that anyone
could understand, just odd words. And you cried. Do you know, Georgie, I do not
think I have ever known you cry before? You were always so strong. Is there
anything amiss?’

‘No, I expect
my head hurt.’ She struggled into a sitting position and put her hand on her
sister’s arm. ‘You have not stayed at home to be with me, have you? You haven’t
given up all your social engagements?’

‘Of course I
have. Did you think I would go out and enjoy myself when you were lying here at
death’s door?’ She smiled. ‘Well, not quite at death’s door, but you have been
very ill. I could not leave you.’

‘But the
Major...’

‘He quite
understood. He said it was very commendable of me and he would not have it any
other way.’

‘Has he spoken
to you? Are felicitations in order?’

‘No, he has too
much sensibility to broach such a subject when he could see I was so worried
about you.’

‘But he has
spoken to Uncle?’

‘Many times,
but, I am persuaded, not about marriage.’

Georgie could
not understand her sister’s light-hearted manner. ‘Are you not disappointed?’

‘No, why should
I be? There is plenty of time.’ Then, changing the subject abruptly she asked,
‘Now, what would you like for luncheon? Cook has some chicken broth, or beef
tea, or perhaps something a little more substantial?’

Georgie
laughed. ‘I am as hungry as a hunter, but whatever you do don’t let Lord
Barbour know that. As far as he is concerned I am still very weak and unable to
receive visitors.’

‘Very well,’
Felicity said, getting up to give orders for a light meal to be prepared. ‘But
anyone would think you fell off your horse on purpose.’

‘I did not
fall, I was thrown,’ Georgie called after her. Her pride would not let her
admit that she could not stay on a simple hack, side-saddle or astride, but she
smiled as the door closed on her sister; the accident had certainly been
opportune. She would have to see Lord Barbour sooner or later, but if she could
manage to hold him off until just before her aunt was ready to leave for France
she could get the unpleasant interview over with and then she and Felicity
could return to Rowan Park. Once there, she would prepare herself for her
sister’s wedding in surroundings which would make it easier to bear, among her
beloved horses.