“Lord Silvertonis your Uncle’s title, Georgia,” Aunt Clarissa stepped out of the dining room, chin raised.
“AndYour Graceis the proper address for a Duchess,” Keaton snapped, eyes leaping to Clarissa with unerring precision.
“Ah, but then this is not a true marriage,” Uncle Benjamin chuckled as his wife joined him, “so I think my wife—”
“Is being unconscionably rude,” Keaton snapped, “and I will overlook it only once. Your niece is my wife in the eyes of the law and God. Your opinions of the marriage’s validity are neither here nor there. I would have you address her correctly.”
His tone was as hard as an Arctic glacier but colder. Georgia schooled her face to stillness and stood by his side, hand on his arm, when she wanted to be running through the house calling for Amelia. She clung to him like he was anchoring her in place.
“…Of course, Your Grace,” Aunt Clarissa muttered stiffly, then said the same to Georgia.
Being addressed in such a respectable way sent a thrill through Georgia.
Aunt Clarissa hasn’t spoken to me in such a polite manner since Elias disappeared. She never dared show her true self when he was around.
Georgia glanced at Keaton. He looked proud and regal, and the Vexleys seemed to shrivel before him. She squeezed his arm, wanting to communicate her gratitude that he had insisted on accompanying her.
“Where is Amelia?” she asked, keeping her voice level.
“She is not here… Your Grace,” Aunt Clarissa murmured.
“Oh, that is a shame. I hoped to be able to speak to her. Where might I find her?” Georgia pressed.
“Your cousin is unwell and we have sent her to a seaside sanatorium to recover. The sea air is said to be medicinal,” Uncle Benjamin explained from a wooden face.
They are lying! They have done something to Amelia, I know it!
“Well then, if she is indeed unwell, I wouldvery muchlike to visit with her. Where is this sanatorium?” she asked.
“I do not recall the address of the place, though doubtless we can find the correspondence,” Uncle Benjamin said, looking at his wife, who nodded primly. “Not during dinner, though. I’m sure you understand.”
“Oh, I understand completely, Uncle,” Georgia smiled as sweetly as she could.
“We would offer for you to join us, but the kitchens have prepared dinner for two, and, as you have intimated, you already have dinner plans?” Aunt Clarissa sounded hopeful.
“We have. And we have intruded upon your time enough for one evening,” Keaton grumbled.
“But I should like the address. Could you send a messenger with it tomorrow morning?” Georgia requested.
“Why, yes, if we can lay our hands upon it,” Aunt Clarissa replied.
Georgia allowed Keaton to guide her from the house, but one thought rang out in her mind like a bell
They are lying!
CHAPTER 13
“Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Westvale!” came the sonorous announcement from Edric's butler.
Keaton stepped easily into the hall, Georgia on his arm. His trust in his uncle was complete. He knew the layout of the house and that Edric would keep other guests from milling where Keaton would walk. He could move through the house with almost the same ease as a sighted man, which was his goal every day.
“Your Graces, thank you for coming. Welcome to Swinthorpe!” Edric greeted them effusively. “No one here that will not help spread the word of respectability and contentment in the Westvale household,” he whispered, leaning close.
“Thank you, Uncle,” Keaton breathed, before turning to regard Georgia. “Now, shall we get this circus begun so that we may end it all the sooner? You are smiling, I hope?”
“For all I am worth. I am just as keen to be done with this as you. I cannot stop thinking about Amelia...” Georgia sighed.
“Your Aunt and Uncle gave a reasonable explanation.”
