“It was rather exciting,” Honoria replied, settling into a chair. “But I must tell you, I have no idea how you managed to plan your wedding.
“I had little say in it,” Georgina admitted with a wry smile. “My mother and mother-in-law took it all upon themselves. I only had to be there.” She poured the tea and looked up. Honoria’s sober expression made her think she had said too much. She gathered her thoughts. “And when do you and Barrington plan to marry?”
“The week before the Hartleigh masquerade,” Honoria said with a sigh. “And, before you ask, I have neither the gown nor the cake decided. What I do have is the date and the venue, the inn at Rosalynde Bay, where Barrington and I met.”
“I am happy to help in any way I can.”
“I’m glad for your offer,” Honoria replied warmly. “I could use both inspiration and courage. In the meantime, I shall invite you to tea. There’s quite a bit going on in Sommer-by-the-Sea that you ought to know about.”
Mrs. Bainbridge set down her teacup, her gaze thoughtful. “And what of you, Georgina? Once this house is cleared, what will you do?”
Georgina hesitated, her fingers curling loosely around her saucer. “I had thought to return to London,” she admitted. “Fortunately, the property is not entailed. The plan was to sell the manor, settle the affairs of the estate, and… begin anew. But things have changed.”
There was a silence before Mrs. Bainbridge’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Well, that is a tidy turn of fate. Isn’t it? “There’s more Ravenstock in you than any of the men who came before,” Mrs. Bainbridge said with a smile. “And I mean that as a compliment.”
Georgina managed a soft laugh, though it carried a thread of unease beneath it. “I only hope I carry it well enough to see it through.”
Mrs. Bainbridge’s eyes sharpened, a gleam of approval there. “You will. Of that, I have no doubt.”
Mrs. Bainbridge’s gaze lingered over her tea, thoughtful. “Ravenstock holdings and the mine,” she mused. “That is no small inheritance, Georgina.”
“No,” Georgina agreed quietly. She traced the rim of her cup with one finger, watching the faint reflection ripple across the liquid surface. “It is rather more than I intended to claim.”
“You sound as though you’ve been burdened with an unwanted parcel from an aged relation,” Honoria replied, her smile dry but not unkind.
“It feels nearly the same,” Georgina admitted. “I had thought my ties to this place ended with Rowland. I never imagined the family would see fit to bind me so tightly to its affairs.”
“Or so wisely,” Mrs. Bainbridge countered. “The Hawkesburys might not have appreciated their good fortune at the time, but you are well suited to stewarding these lands.” She paused, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “A woman of sense and strength, with her wits about her and no need to answer to a husband’s vanity.”
“Until I choose to marry again,” Georgina said, her tone light but edged.
“Until then,” Honoria allowed, lifting her cup. “But perhaps not even then, if you are clever.”
Georgina offered a faint smile in reply. Her thoughts were less certain. The burden of responsibility had not yet settled, although she could feel its shape, like a cloak draped across her shoulders.
“Then perhaps it is time to surprise them,” she said quietly.
Honoria raised her cup in salute. “That is precisely what I hoped to hear.”
As they set their cups aside, Mrs. Bainbridge’s gaze drifted toward the window, where the pale light of morning touched the edges of the old drapery. “And what of the household? Do you intend to keep the staff?”
Georgina followed her glance, considering. “Mrs. Hemsley has been with this house longer than I’ve been alive. I could not dismiss her even if I wished it. The others… we shall see. Some have family nearby and may prefer to find new positions rather than wait for my plans to settle.”
“A fair approach,” Honoria approved. “Better to let them choose their course than to bind them to uncertainty.”
Georgina allowed herself a moment of reflection. “The house echoes more than it used to,” she murmured. “I wonder if it always did, and I simply failed to hear it.”
“It will echo less with purpose in its halls,” Mrs. Bainbridge said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Houses are much like people in that regard.”
Mrs. Bainbridge’s gaze sharpened as she set down her empty cup. “You should know, Georgina, there are those in Sommer-by-the-Sea who expect you to sell. Quietly, of course. They whisper it over their accounts and at the market stalls.”
Georgina’s brows lifted, not in indignation but surprise. “I had not considered that anyone beyond myself cared what became of Ravenstock.”
“Oh, they care,” Honoria assured her. “Some because they fearchange. Others because they hope for it. And more than a few because they wonder what manner of woman inherits a house and a mine and chooses to stay.”
Georgina absorbed this with a quiet breath. “Then let them wonder.”
“Good,” Mrs. Bainbridge said, a spark of satisfaction in her tone. “Let them wonder, Georgina. Let them see what you choose to become next.”
