“Don’t be ridiculous, darling,” Liliane soothed her. “None of your admirers would be willing to settle for her. I thought Mr. Salton would prove an admirable choice.”
“Mr. Salton is completely unsuitable for a chit like Georgie.”
“Don’t be a dog in the manger, darling,” her mother said. “You don’t give him the time of day—you’re almost rude to the man. Surely he’s the last man you’d begrudge your sister.”
“He’s...” Norah’s voice trailed off as she made an effort to pull herself together. She turned to Georgie. “Why don’t you go in search of Rafferty and leave us alone? Mother and I need to talk.”
Startled, she looked behind her, and realized to her relief that Rafferty was no longer looming beside the doorway. He hadn’t heard that apparently she now had a suitor.
But Andrew Salton was a kind man. She was not the idiot everyone seemed to think she was—she knew her feelings for Rafferty could lead nowhere. But until she left this house, he was hers, whether Norah liked it or not.
He was in the kitchen, talking with Bertha, and she took a moment to admire his beautiful back. She hadn’t made any noise on her slippered feet, but he stopped and turned, a frown on his face, and she wondered if he knew what Liliane had planned.
“I have a suitor,” she announced glumly.
There was no surprise on his face. “So I gather. It’s all settled then?”
“Of course not. I’ve just met the man last night.”
“He’s not the right man for a young girl like you,” Rafferty said in a tight voice.
“I’m not a young girl.”
“You are to me,” he said in a clipped voice.
Georgie looked up at him, stricken. Was that really how he saw her? Her brand new grown-up dresses seemed to have done her no good.
“Then tell Norah you disapprove,” she said. “She’ll be happy to agree.”
“Your sister is not my problem. You are.”
“Why am I your problem?” she asked.
“Because I don’t care about your sister.”
Georgie had a swift intake of breath. “You care about me?” she said in a soft, hopeful voice.
“I don’t care about anyone,” he said, looking discomfited. “As a member of this household, you’re my responsibility.”
“So is Norah.”
“Norah can take care of herself.”
That stung. “I can take care of myself,” she shot back. “I have been for the last twenty years.”
He said nothing, but she could practically hear his silent scoff. “Then may I be the first to felicitate you on your upcoming nuptials?” he said smoothly.
Georgie ground her teeth in frustration. “I’m not going to marry Andrew Salton, no matter how nice he is. In fact, I don’t intend to marry at all. I intend to live out my years in a house in the countryside, full of books and cats.”
“And how are you going to manage that?” Bertha piped up, having watched their conversation with blatant disapproval. “You think you can look after yourself without a husband to see to things?”
“I’ll have a maid and a butler,” she said hotly.
She saw Rafferty jerk in discomfort. “I suggest you not count on me, Miss Georgie. This is only a short-term engagement, not a way of life. You’ll need to find someone else to look after you.”
“I can look after myself,” she said again.
“Yes,” said Bertha, “but who’s going to?—”
