“We are both of age, so why wait?” added Jamie.
And no one questioned it.
It was long afterwards, when the maids had been sent in to clean, and arrangements made to prepare a larger apartment tomorrow, and space had been found for Jamie’s things in the press and chest of drawers, and wine and cake had been sent up to put them on until dinner, that they were finally alone. Jamie wrapped his arms around Georgie’s waist, and leant forward to kiss her.
The door flew open and Rowena strode in, her face bewildered.
“Is it true? Oh, it is. And how long has this been going on?”
Georgie could not speak a word. Rowena was upset with her! Rowena, her best friend for years, her dearest and most cherished confidante was unhappy with her.
It was Jamie who answered calmly, releasing Georgie from his embrace, but taking firm hold of her hand. “It is hard to be sure, but we have been working together for some months now and our mutual affection has grown during that time.”
“And you never thought to tell me of it?” Rowena said, her eyes fixed on Georgie. “You were falling in love… thinking ofmarriage… yet you never mentioned a single word to me! I thought we were friends, Georgie.”
“We are! But… I didn’t think… there was nothing to tell… not even hopes…”
“Neither of us knew how the other felt until—” Jamie began valiantly.
“Yes, but she knew howshefelt!” Rowena cried, rounding on him with a spurt of anger. “When have we ever kept secrets from each other, Georgie? What about Henry? When did you stop loving him and start loving someone else? Was there no point at which you felt the need to confide in a friend? No point when you wanted advice? Or simply totellme that you had changed?”
Stung, Georgie cried, “You were always so busy with the baby.”
“Never too busy to talk to you.”
“But I couldn’t… it wasn’t…” She was crying too hard to find any more words. She could not tell Rowena the truth, and anything less felt hollow.
“I thought we were better friends than that, Georgie,” Rowena said quietly. “It is hurtful to discover that you have been keeping secrets from me all this time, very hurtful indeed. I cannot tell you how disappointed I am.” And so saying, she swept out of the room.
Georgie’s legs gave out on her and she crumpled onto the edge of the bed. Jamie was beside her at once, his arms around her, holding her tight.
“I cannot make her understand!” Georgie wailed.
“I know, my darling. Perhaps we can never tell her the whole story, but always remember this — we did the right thing, theonlything we could do to correct the mistake we made. There was always likely to be some trouble as a result, but we will weather this storm as all storms from now on — together, facing the future side by side.”
And even through her bitter tears, Georgie was comforted by his words and the reassurance of his arms around her.
13: A Letter
Jamie looked round the familiar room with the oddest feeling that he was a child again. The worn rug, the carving on the wooden mantel, the sideboard with the stiff drawer… was it still stiff? It was. The ornaments had all gone off to the cottage when the family had moved out, but everything else was just as he remembered it, only smaller, darker, older.
“Well, this will need some work,” Hester said, gazing around with her hands on her hips, puffing a little from the long climb up the stairs. “I asked the maids to remove all the holland covers and do a bit of dusting, but those curtains are so faded, and this rug… what is that stain?”
“Blood,” Jamie said. “I bumped into the edge of the table and had a nosebleed. My mother spent hours on her knees scrubbing at it, but it never would come out.”
“How old were you?” Georgie said, with a smile that warmed him inside. What a lovely smile she had!
“Oh, six, seven, something like that.”
“Are you especially attached to that rug?” Hester asked, one eyebrow lifted.
He laughed. “Not especially, no. The whole place looks so shabby now.”
“Indeed it does,” Hester said, wrinkling her nose. “The duke’s orders are that you can look through the eastern attics for anything you want. That is where we put any furniture that is still usable. We will have to make up new curtains, though, and you can choose new paper and paint for the walls if you like. I shall send the girls in on Monday to give the place a thorough clean, and you can move in after that. I shall leave you now, since you hardly need me to show you around. Ask Charlotte if you want anything. I have no intention of struggling up here several times a day. I just cannot catch my breath after so many stairs. Charlotte knows where everything is.”
Jamie wandered from room to room, remembering. Beyond the parlour, where he and his parents had spent most of their time, there was a dining room cum study, a small kitchen and scullery, and three bedrooms. Needing only two bedrooms, his mother had used the smallest bedroom as a sewing room.
“Happy memories?” Georgie said, as she followed him.
