Her gladness at his evident recovery faded in an instant. “I beg your pardon? Whatever do you mean?”
He cleared his throat, and, linking arms with her, led her toward the large seating area in the chamber’s center. “Let us not be impolite, my g’al. You haven’t yet greeted Mr. Mealy.”
Her father drew her to a halt before the man, seated in an oversized wingback armchair.
Mealy heaved himself to his feet with some effort. As ever, his pink cheeks glistened like the skin of a well-polished apple. His eyes drifted over her with an avaricious gleam that when coupled with the raspy mouth breathing he tended toward made her skin crawl.
“Pleasure to see you, Lady Georgina. Looking as fetching as ever.” He grasped her fingers in his warm, meaty hand, and bent over them, pressing wet lips to her knuckles.
Glancing up, his eyes locked with hers. Only then did she recall the spectacles she’d left atop her desk.
As quickly as she could, she withdrew her hand from his. “Kind of you to say so, sir. You’re well, I hope?”
“Never better, my dear, never better.” He slid her father a canny smile. “Now, then, I shall be on my way. I’m certain you and your parents have much to discuss and I would not wish to delay your doing so.” He started for the exit.
Her mother, who had been a silent observer from the doorway, hurried toward Georgina and her father, hands flapping, a scowl on her face for her husband.
“Allow me to see you out,” her father offered, seeming to remember his manners.
Never pausing, Mealy waved this off. “No need, Belfry. I know m’way.” At the door, he glanced back, a smug grin curving his mouth. “Let us say, tomorrow morning? Nine thirty? Breakfast, hmm?”
“Quite right, sir,” her father replied.
Georgina’s gaze shifted between Mr. Mealy and her father. Shewaited until she heard the thump of the front door, indicating Mealy had left.
“I never,” Georgina cried. “The man oversteps. Seeing himself out, and inviting himself to breakfast as if he owns the place. I do not understand what it is that compels you to associate with him.”
“Georgina, that is most uncharitable of you,” her mother said.
“Be that as it may, you must admit I have a point.”
Her father folded one arm over his chest, propped his elbow on his arm and his chin in his hand. “I admit no such thing. Mr. Mealy has been a good friend to this household, when certainmembers,let us say, chose to turn their backs.”
Georgina recognized the tone, and the implication, and opted not to take the bait. She moved to the vacant sofa and lowered onto it. “As you wish. Tell me, sir. How do you feel? Mama informed me only this morning of a serious ailment, yet you seem quite hale and hardy, which pleases me very much.”
Her parents exchanged looks, and without a word, seated themselves in adjacent armchairs.
Only then did her father speak. “I am well, Georgina, though, I will say, for a time, I suffered in silent agony as I imagined your mother losing her home, her jewels, as I feared collectors would come any day to strip the walls bear of familial artwork, and sell our furnishings out from under us.”
“Papa,” Georgina began, “you must control these urges of yours to gamble away—”
“Silence,” he snapped, cutting her off. “I am the man of this house and I say what must be done, not you, g’al, though I admit to being at fault for allowing you such free rein.”
She barely knew how to respond. Her father had never addressed her with such harsh words.
In an instant, she thought of Teddy. Of his query, “Was I happy?” Of the sketches he’d made of his own father and the inference he’dmade concerning his father’s treatment of him. She’d barely given it a thought.
She glanced at her mother, who seemed consumed with nonexistent wrinkles in her skirts. She was missing something. Something important.
Lifting her chin, she faced her father, and waited for the second shoe to drop.
He coughed, looking somewhat embarrassed by his outburst. Then, without meeting her gaze, said, “I’ve been remiss, neglecting my parental duties for far too long. You are well-past marriageable age, and, as it happens, I have—your mother and I—have found the perfect solution.”
A sick surety pitted out her stomach, moments before he went on.
“We have a signed and sealed contract, betrothing you to Mr. Mealy. Congratulations, dear. You are to be married in six months’ time.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
