“Indeed. It includes all the maxims she raised me with.” And that Georgiana’s own experience had proved true. “Do not trust men. Said in a variety of different ways. As well as a very vivid account of all her liaisons. The book will cause quite the stir.”
“She hated men but…” Sarah flushed. “But she did not mind…”
“Sleeping with them? No, apparently not. She considered physical pleasure the one useful skill a man could cultivate, but she found men who had cultivated it, sadly, in short supply. When she found one, she, erm, clung.”
“I see. Why task you with this job?” Sarah stood and laid the pages gingerly on a small writing desk beneath the window.
Georgiana shrugged. “I am her heiress in every way. I inherited her money, her houses, and her philosophies.” The truth of the world is what she’d inherited—men were useless and often cruel, and a woman should prize independence above all else. It was a gem rarely given to women. Georgiana had learned to covet it, hoard it early on.
“I do not think you should listen to her philosophies. I’ve never thought you should.”
“Fortune hunter after fortune hunter, as well as my own father and Aunt Prudence’s husband, have taught me the truth of her words.” Georgiana’s father, the Earl of Hatchetford, had long suffered a gambling problem, so had given nine-year-old Georgiana to his eccentric, widowed, childless sister in exchange for money. Aunt Prudence had wanted an heiress, had insisted on raising one herself. Georgiana shouldn’t despise her father as she did. But every time their paths had crossed on London streets, every time one of her younger siblings stared at her from across a park with a blank, unknowing look in their eyes, she hated him quite excessively. And now that they’d rejected her invitation and failed to offer one of their own to the familial festivities at her father’s country seat… she was done caring. She’d learned a very valuable lesson from her father, her family, from her aunt.
“Independence above everything else,” Georgiana said.
“Even above love?”
Georgiana pressed her fingers to her temples and looked out the window. “You and Xavier. All our friends and your sisters have found adoring husbands. Love. You’ve somehow dug up men who aren’t horrid. Men who seem to… care. I am terribly happy for you. But most women cannot expect such riches.” She’d certainly never expected it for herself.
Sarah returned to the bed, sitting primly on its edge. “What about Josiah?”
Georgiana turned to her, sharp as a whip through the air. “What about him?”
“He’s been… good to you of late. Fighting the fortune hunters away and all.”
“True. He is another good man, I believe.”
Sarah leaned forward tentatively as if teetering on the narrow edge of a high cliff. “I’m going to ask a question you may not appreciate, but I refuse to hint around it any longer.”
“If you must.”
“This fake courtship… is it perchance headed in a… real direction?”
“What can you mean?” Georgiana asked, less from an ability to understand and more from a desire to ignore her friend’s meaning, hoping she dropped the question entirely.
Sarah straightened and lifted her palms up, a soft gesture, nonthreatening. But also, a refusal to back down. “It’s only that I’ve seen it before. The fake courtship rousing real feelings. Xavier’s sister and her husband—”
“Are not me and Josiah. I’ve barely seen him since little Bea’s christening.” Five times in the last nine months. One of those times was the day of Aunt Prudence’s funeral. He’d walked with her in her garden, the both of them silent until he’d made her laugh. She’d needed that laugh.
“He punched a man for you.”
A most humorous day. The best outing to Hyde Park she’d ever had. “Lord Afton. The man proposed to me. An insulting affair in which he compared me to a cow. I was with Josiah to begin with, yet Afton approached and proposed, the nodcock. He deserved that blow.” She grinned. “So much blood.”
“As your friend and Josiah’s sister-in-law, I should tell you... Xavier is growing grouchy about it. Thinks he should punch some sense into Josiah for toying with you.”
Georgiana laughed. “He’s not toying with me. You both know that. Wetoldyou. It’s all part of the ruse. It worked, too. After he broke Afton’s nose, no one dares approach me, fortune hunter or no.” She’d become Josiah’s property in the eyes of theton, though no announcement had been made, no verbal confirmation. He never even touched her in public. And yet, she was his. To everyone else. It irked her, the idea she might belong to some man, even imaginatively, butshe knewshe didn’t, and the lie served a purpose, so she let her ire slip away.
“You do not think he’s even a little bit in love with you, then?” Sarah asked.
“Lord, no! Josiah’s an excellent friend. And he is helping me. As friends do if you will remember.” Her aunt had always said men couldn’t be friends with women. They’d only try to get beneath their skirts once they saw an opportunity. That sentiment was actually written down. On page five of her memoirs.
“You’re sweet on him.” Sarah gave a lazy grin. “When you say his name, your lips twitch, like they want to smile.”
Did they? Georgiana turned back to the window, welcoming the thick curtain to hide her definitely-not-twitching lips. “How is baby Bea? Walking yet? When do they begin to walk? Can she talk? How does she take her tea?”
“It’s clear I’ll have to teach you about babies. Your knowledge is scandalously imperfect. But I’ll not let you distract me just yet. Friendship is a lovely place to start. Wouldn’t you like to marry a man you can be friends with?”
“No.”
