“And what does it mean?” I searched his face for an answer.
Peter hesitated, shifting his weight. “Have you ever met someone who enters a room and the whole of the atmosphere changes? The feel, the temperature, the very air you breathe? An angry person could silence a room, intensifying the energy there, while a soft-spoken person could set that same room entirely at ease in the next moment.” He rested a hand on the doorframe as he took a slow, long breath. “With you, Amelia, everything is brighter.”
I’d forgotten to breathe, my heart slowing from its earlier excitement. Peter was not teasing me. Not now. He was quite serious, quite honest. And that was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to me.
“I will see you tomorrow afternoon. Do not think I will go easy on you just because your pride was wounded tonight.” He winked and turned away.
What a teasing, irritating man. Wasn’t he? My words were beginning to feel insincere in my head, as though they smiled in their own knowing way. Even I wasn’t so sure I meant them anymore.
Chapter Seventeen
Georgiana closed the door behind her after the four of us entered her bedchamber.
“You did well, Miss Moore,” she said. “I told you he is good.”
“He was most improper,” Beatrice said. “No matter how entertaining it was to watch. I applaud you for lasting as long as you did.”
“Thank you,” I said from where I stood by the small window across the room. My mind was still whirling from what Peter had said about me. His words were the loveliest I had ever heard, even now as they echoed in my memory.
“They will never let us live it down.” Clara frowned. “Mr. Wood will be infamous.”
Georgiana sat on her bed, letting down her hair. “In a party as small as this, perhaps. Usually, Peter will do anything to stay out of the line of gossip.”
Beatrice sat in a chair by Georgiana’s desk. “Won’t we all?”
“Are Sir Ronald’s parties usually much larger?” Clara asked.
Georgiana brushed her fingers through her curls. “Yes, the Demsworths are nothing if not extravagant with house parties. But when Sir Ronald’s father died, and everything came to light, the guest list was the first thing to go.”
“So it’s true?” Beatrice sat up straighter, eyes questioning.
Georgiana smiled a cat-like smile.
“I did wonder why things were so casual,” Beatrice said.
Clara looked to me, confused, but I had no idea what they were talking about.
“What is true?” I asked. “Is something wrong with Sir Ronald?”
Beatrice turned to me. “Surely you’ve heard. His father was a terrible gambler. No one had any idea until his death, but of course by then it was too late. He left Sir Ronald with mountains of debt, and after he paid them all off, there was nothing left. I hear they barely keep the estate running. A portion of money remains untouchable in the bank until Sir Ronald marries. Or so I’ve heard.”
“It is true,” Georgiana agreed, almost happily. “But I imagine that money will not be untouchable for much longer.”
Her meaning was clear, her words pounding in my ears.
Beatrice added in a hushed voice, “My mother says that is precisely why he held this party. They stayed with family over the Season, on a very frugal budget. Now, he means to choose a wife, have a small wedding, and live comfortably again with the sum his father locked away.”
“He is ... poor?” My tongue felt numb.
“Quite. Which is why not many women from the Season suited his fancy. Too many were only interested in him because they thought he held afortune.” Georgiana emphasized the word as she looked pointedly at Clara. “But he needs only a few good years of farming to replenish his holding.”
A few good years.The walls in the room constricted, and my hands grew clammy. This was not the security I’d imagined. Did he know Clara came with nothing? Surely he planned on a dowry increasing his income. A dowry like Georgiana most certainly held. Would our poverty change his favor? We’d come this far, and I was so close to giving Clara her heart’s desire. But the risk was more severe than I’d anticipated. Even if Clara secured Sir Ronald, could he provide her with stability? Would Father have allowed a match based on such a gamble? Frustration beat upon me like the pelting of hard rain in a storm.
Clara rubbed her temples. What did she think of all this?
“My brother and Sir Ronald are a lot alike, you know.” Georgiana looked to me. Her eyes were sharp, almost unfeeling, and I wanted to turn away.
She continued, “Peter will need a considerable dowry from his wife to replenish the amount mine will cost him. Otherwise, he will have to go back to London and work for more income like my father did for my mother. In truth, Peter isexpectingwealth in his marriage.”
