Georgiana shook her head. “No, Mother. I’ll be with her. This is not about you.”
“And we know you’ll take over and make it all about you,” Cecily said, flushing. “I want Georgiana.”
Lavinia waved her hand dismissively. “Your sister will be working.”
“I’ll take whatever time I need to ensure Cecily’s safety,” Georgiana said.
James could see by the worried dip of her chin that it would indeed be a sacrifice. How was she to earn a living if she spent months in London with Cecily? Then, the solution popped into his head. It required a fib, but this was war. “In fact, I believe it’s the perfect time for Georgiana to be in Town. I’ll be able to make introductions, sharing with everyone that she’s the one who restored my family’s country home. We’ll make it a mission to find the next client.”
Lavinia tilted her head. “That will hardly be helpful to Cecily. A proper debut requires presence, style. Influence. Not the older sister selling her wares.”
James spoke softly but firmly. “Lady Linley, since I’m the one paying for her Season, I get to decide how it’s all to go. Georgie will be the one to accompany Cecily. That’s final.”
“You just called her Georgie.” Lavinia stared at him, a glint in her eyes that made it all too obvious what she was thinking.
“We’re working closely together, Mother,” Georgiana rushed to say. “We call each other by our first names. It’s nothing to be concerned over.”
“Oh, is that right?” Lavinia asked, brows raised. “Because to me, it tells an entirely different story. Lord Ashford sponsors your sister’s debut, settles my debts without question, and you address each other with such… familiarity. You’re together day in and day out. Only a fool wouldn’t see what’s going on here.”
“Lady Linley, consider yourself lucky to have daughters looking after you,” James said, heat rising in his voice. “You are not to criticize them or manipulate this situation to your own benefit. If you continue in this way, you will no longer be welcome in my home. As far as your accusations about the nature of our relationship, frankly, it’s none of your concern. We are colleagues working together. That’s all.”
Even as he said it, he knew it was not so. If he thought his reactions were that of a colleague, he was the fool.
What was he to do now? He was falling in love with his architect.
Lavinia’s lips parted, but no sound came out. For one sharp second, she looked stunned. Then she gave a brittle laugh. “Well, I guess you’ve put me in my place, Lord Ashford. As usual, my daughters think of no one but themselves. As far as the pair of you goes, I’m not an idiot. It’s perfectly clear what’s going on here.”
Georgiana’s cheeks flushed, but she held her mother’s gaze. “This is about Cecily’s future. Not yours. Not mine. The sooner youunderstand that, the better.”
Lavinia didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she smoothed her gloves as if the gesture gave her control. “Go on, then. If it’s already decided, I’ll simply have to find a way to amuse myself in the country. Alone. Excluded from my own daughter’s debut while you three are off to London. I’ll wilt away out here in the middle of nowhere.”
James raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure you’ll manage.”
Lavinia huffed, gave them all a withering look and then swept down the street like a wounded duchess, her plume bobbing indignantly with every step.
The village street was oddly quiet in her wake. A dog barked in the distance. Somewhere, someone was chopping wood.
“Well. That went about as expected.” Georgiana exhaled, closing her eyes for the briefest second.
James glanced at her, arms folded. “She really is something, isn’t she?”
A corner of Georgiana’s mouth twitched before she sobered. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“I do as well,” Cecily said, sounding near tears. “She’ll ruin it somehow.”
“No, I won’t allow that,” James said. “Please, both of you, try not to worry. Everything’s going to be all right in the end.”
Was that true? Or was this whole thing ending with his heart broken over a woman who would never want him and sweet Cecily without a husband?
Chapter Twelve
Georgiana
The fire hadbeen laid, supper cleared, and Georgiana had just settled into her chair near the window with a cup of tea when the sharp echo of knocking rattled the manor’s front door.
Cecily looked up from her embroidery. “We’re not expecting anyone, are we?”
James, standing near the hearth, frowned. “Not that I know of.”
