Georgina’s gaze drifted to the window again. “Perhaps it’s time I stop standing at the edge of my own life.”
She watched Honoria lift her cup, her laughter still warm in the air, and for the first time in days, something like steadiness returned.
Honoria set down her cup and leaned back slightly, studying Georgina over the rim of her glasses. “And what of your neighbor, Lord Hawkesbury? It seems to me his return is not a mere coincidence. He’s taken quite an interest in the mine, has he not?”
Georgina lifted her brow, affecting mild surprise. “Honoria, you make it sound as if you’ve appointed yourself mistress of Sommer-by-the-Sea’s intelligence.”
“A headmistress must keep informed of the important players in her town,” Honoria replied crisply, a gleam of amusement in her eyes. “And since you are now co-owner of that mine, Georgina, I suspect Lord Hawkesbury’s attentions may serve you well.”
Georgina’s fingers tightened subtly around her saucer. “So he has,” she allowed.
“A fortunate arrangement,” Honoria continued, “to have a neighbor with experience in both land and enterprise. You will need every sharp mind you can gather.”
Georgina did not answer at once. The image of Alex Weld surfaced in her thoughts. The burden he carried on his shoulders, the measured calculation in his gaze. She had once assumed he was simply a steady hand at his father’s side. Now she saw the steel beneath.
“He is capable,” she said, keeping her tone even. “Practical.”
Yes, there was something different in him. Not just purpose, but a quiet authority, as though command had become instinct rather than inheritance.
“And, I dare say,” Honoria added smoothly, “loyal to the land and its people. He knows the veins of the mine as well as the veins on the back of his hand. Perhaps better.”
Georgina met Honoria’s gaze directly, her expression calm though her pulse quickened beneath it. “We shall see.”
And yet, she had seen something already. Not the boy she once knew, nor the man shaped by war and duty. But the space between the two, a man who still surprised her.
Honoria’s smile was sly but approving. “Indeed, we shall.”
A quiet resolve began to form, threading through her doubts like a seam stitched tight. She was no longer simply closing a chapter. She was pausing to consider what the next might hold.
As their conversation ebbed into a comfortable quiet, Georgina let her gaze drift around the familiar room. It looked different today, not because of the absence of certain objects, but because of the presence of something she had not expected to find again, possibility.
She had intended to dismantle the pieces of her past and scatter them like autumn leaves, carried off by the next season’s wind. Yet here she sat, not sifting through remnants, but considering foundations. Solid ground, as Honoria might say. If only it felt that way beneath her feet.
Her thoughts flicked to Mrs. Hemsley and the other staff. They had kept the house running long after its purpose had faltered. Perhaps it was not the walls that defined Ravenstock, but the people within them. And perhaps, she thought, that could include herself once more.
Mrs. Bainbridge rose, gathering the puzzle box beneath her arm with the globe already claimed. She paused at the door, glancing at the room and the bundled memories left behind.
“When my pupil solves this box,” she said, tapping it lightly with her gloved fingers, “I shall insist you join me to see what clever trickery lies inside.”
Georgina allowed a smile to touch her lips. “Only if you promise not to let her outwit you first.”
Honoria’s answering laugh was genuine. “I make no promises, Georgina. Only that you will not face these challenges alone.”
With that, she stepped into the sunlight, leaving behind the quiet assurance that, even in uncertainty, Georgina’s course was hers to chart.
Alone again, Georgina stood for a long moment by the door, her hand resting on the frame. Through the rippled glass panes, sunlight caught the lingering mist, turning it to silver. Possibility, she thought once more, a fragile thing, yet glimmering all the same.
She lingered a moment longer in the stillness, her gaze drifting to the bundled memories stacked against the far wall. Her future might be uncertain, but at least she knew where it would begin.
A gentle rap at the doorframe drew her attention.
Mrs. Hemsley appeared, a folded note in her hand. “This arrived for you, miss. Brought by one of Lord Hawkesbury’s men.”
Georgina took the missive, her fingers brushing the rough paper. Breaking the seal, she read the concise lines:
Lady Georgina,
As we agreed, I shall call for you at half past nine tomorrow morning to visit the Ashdown Hill Mine.
