“I am very grateful to Mr. Wylde for—”
“Grateful? Pish! Why are you so afraid of admitting you’re in love with the man?”
Georgie bit her lip. Was she afraid? Juliet wasn’t ashamed to declare her love for Simeon to all and sundry. She threw herself headfirst into it and trusted that all would be well. Such complete abandon could be admiredin theory, but the thought of risking it all on one person still terrified her. It was the shipping equivalent of puttingone’s most valuable cargo on a single ship and sending it straight out into a storm without a compass.
It wasn’t unreasonable to want to protect herself from hurt, was it? Just look at how her own mother had been affected when their father had been taken from her. It had taken her years to be merry again. And yet Mother had often said that she’d rather have had those years with their father—even knowing the heartache that would follow—as opposed to a life spent without him.
Georgie blinked as the blur of London rolled past the windows. Love, it seemed, was like Mr. Johnstone’s submarine—there were no half measures. You had to fully commit. To close the hatch, put your life in another’s hands, and trust you wouldn’t drown. It was easier said than done.
Should she tell Benedict how she felt? What good could it do, when their arrangement was only temporary? He hadn’t asked for her to fall in love with him; he’d probably just feel guilty and awkward because he didn’t return the sentiment. What he felt for her was lust, not love.
Their return to Grosvenor Square elicited the expected flurry of concerned scolding from their mother. Tilly the maid had been cajoled into telling all, and no sooner had Georgie and Juliet been ushered into the drawing room than Mother demanded to know what on earth had possessed them both. Georgie was reprimanded for abandoning Charlotte in the park and “disappearing heaven knows where.” She was given no chance to explain, however, before Juliet was subjected to Mother’s patentedwhat-did-I-do-to-deserve-such-a-trial-for-a-daughterglare.
“Eloping?” she wailed. “Why, Juliet? And with that penniless poet Pettigrew!”
Georgie tried not to snort at the unintentionally amusing alliteration.
Juliet firmed her jaw. “I love him, Mother. We make each other happy. I don’t want to marry anyone else.”
Mother dabbed the corner of her eyes with her handkerchief. “But to be seen leaving with him in a carriage. Unaccompanied. In broad daylight! And then to return homeunwed? Oh, the shame!”
Georgie coughed to interrupt what promised to be a fit of dramatic sobbing and general palpitations. “If you’ll just listen for a moment, Mother, I can explain. Yes, Juliet and Simeon were planning to elope, but they abandoned their plans to come and help me. I was kidnapped from the park by Josiah.”
Juliet threw her a grateful look. Mother clutched her handkerchief to her quivering bosom and gasped. “Kidnapped? Why on earth would Josiah do that?”
“Because he’s gambled himself into a hole and thought the best way to get himself out of it was to demand all my jewelry in exchange for my safe release.”
Mother gaped at her. “Why, that little weasel! I always knew he was a bad one. You didn’t oblige him, did you?”
“I did not. Luckily, Benedict Wylde intervened. He succeeded in subduing Josiah and returning my jewels to me.”
Mother frowned. “Wylderescued you?”
Georgie pasted a bright smile on her face. “Yes. It was the most amazing coincidence. He just happened to be passing by.”
Mother seemed to digest that. “Are you quite sure he wasn’t in on Josiah’s plan? It sounds awfully convenient. Perhaps they cooked the scheme up together so he could play the gallant rescuer and impress you.”
“I can assure you it was nothing like that. Mr. Wyldehas no love for Josiah. In fact, he helped me send him off to Boston with his tail between his legs.”
“Boston? In Lincolnshire?” Mother echoed, bewildered. “What’s there to do in Boston?”
“No, Boston inAmerica,” Georgie clarified, with a satisfied grin. “Josiah threatened me and tried to shoot Mr. Wylde. So we took him to Blackwall and put him aboard theLady Alice. He’ll make no more trouble for anyone.”
Mother sat back in her chair. “America? You’ve dispatched your own cousin to America? Good heavens, Georgiana!”
“He deserved it,” Juliet chimed in supportively. “And Mr. Wylde really was quite heroic.”
Mother shot her a glare, apparently reminded of her indiscretion. “Well, even if Josiah can’t make any more trouble, it hardly matters, since you’ve brought scandal upon us all anyway.” She sighed dramatically. “Oh, Juliet. I had such high hopes for you. But if it’s truly this Pettigrew you want, then I suppose you’llhaveto marry him now.”
Juliet blinked at this sudden about-face. “I can marry Simeon?”
Mother nodded. “I suppose so. I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed at his lack of title, but if you really love him, then that’s not such a bad thing. I married your father, after all, despite him not having a title, and I never regretted it for a moment. Just promise me you’ll appoint someone like Edmund Shaw to look after your assets. Mr. Pettigrew doesn’t seem particularly skilled when it comes to financial matters.”
Georgie chuckled at the irony of Mother presuming to lecture anyone on budgeting. Her idea of “economizing” was wearing a dress more than twice in one season, but since she made sure to disguise the fact by purchasing new shawls, hats, gloves, and earrings to match—whichinevitably cost more than a new dress—there was no saving whatsoever.
Juliet gave a watery squeal. “Oh, yes, I promise! Thank you, Mama!” She leapt from the sofa and went to embrace her, but Mother waved her off, already in full planning mode.
“If we announce your engagement immediately, it should put a stop to any gossip, especially if we hint that the two of you have had a private agreement since before you even came to town.”
