Her stout Irish maid, Stella, interrupted her thoughts, slipping into the room. Stella, close-mouthed and loyal to a fault, had been Georgina’s maid for only a short time when her marriage to Masterson was announced. The maid had nodded in her no-nonsense way upon being informed her mistress was bound for England and had assured Georgina she had no intention of seeking other employment. She didn’t want to return to her parents’ house in the Bowery. Stella had ten siblings and things were a mite crowded at home. And she’d always wanted to go on an adventure.
“I overheard Ingrid speaking to Lady Masterson,” Stella said, keeping her voice low. “She’s poking about in your business again. Asking all sorts of questions.”
Ingrid was Clarissa’s maid. Nosey and as superior as her mistress. She’d taken a keen interest in Georgina’s health of late. Fortunately, Georgina and Stella had hidden the worst symptoms of Georgina’s pregnancy. The maid had found a tea that helped with the nausea. Georgina stayed away from eggs and claiming her grief along with the need for solitude, took most of her evening meals upstairs.
Whenever Clarissa or Harold questioned why she mourned so deeply for a man she hadn’t even liked, Georgina launched into a detailed recitation of Masterson’s final moments, complete with blood and excrement. Georgina didn’t have to pretend to be horrified.
Clarissa had eventually stopped asking. Harold had merely watched with his pebble dark eyes and said he hoped seeing such a thing hadn’t permanently harmed Georgina’s mind.
A trickle of fear slid down her spine. She couldn’t wait to leave this house.
“Your courses. That’s what Ingrid was wanting to know. Whether you’ve had them or not. Even asked me if you’d had relations with your husband before he died and how often.”
“The very idea is offensive.”
“Says her mistress is just wanting be certain of your welfare due to the tragedy you’ve suffered so that she can properly care for you.Concerned.” Stella gave a wiggle of her brows. “That’s what she is.”
Georgina snorted. “I’m sure she is, especially given her own state.” Clarissa, it appeared, might be barren.
“Don’t worry. I have the situation well in hand.” Stella gave her a determined look. “Pig’s blood. Took a small bottle from the butcher when he was busy flirting and boasting about how fine his shop was. I’ll make sure Ingrid sees me launder your underthings. Might ruin something.” She frowned.
“I’m more concerned you flirted with Mr. Simon so you could steal pig’s blood,” Georgina whispered. “His wife is known to be jealous.”
“Mrs. Simon was right around the corner and didn’t seem the least concerned. I think she’d appreciate it if I took him off her hands for a bit.”
Under no circumstances could Clarissa or Harold suspect what Georgina was about to do. The pretense she still had her courses was one that must continue until she left for the country. In a few days, Georgina and Stella would be leaving for a small, very remote estate in Cumberland belonging to the Duke of Averell. A forgotten piece of property that he assured her no one had been to in years. He only ever remembered he owned Green Glen when his solicitor reminded him of the property’s existence.
“Do you think he’ll try to find you? His lordship?” Stella asked.
“No. The duke is a master of diplomacy. He assured Harold, confidentially of course, that it is best for Clarissa to have me gone for some time so she can firmly establish herself as Lady Masterson. Harold plans to invite Averell to a dinner party.”
“The duke is very wise, my lady. I’ve taken to speaking quite freely down below. How terrible it was for you to nurse your husband. How gruesome his death. You just need to put all of it from your mind.” Stella bit her lip. “Are yousurewe can’t return home, my lady? I’ve heard Charleston is lovely. No one knows you there.”
Georgina shook her head. “The way to ensure my child’s future is to make sure Harold never knows a child exists. If I run off to America and don’t return, Harold might seek me out.” Not for her own sake, but for Beechwood Court and the sum Masterson had left her. It would be disastrous if he found her alone with an infant. “The only reason he hasn’t questioned my leaving London is because he wants to further his connection with a duke.”
Once her child was safely in New York with her sister, Lilian, Georgina would return to London. Not forever. Six months at most. Only long enough to put any lingering suspicions Harold had to rest. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, waiting for him to appear.
Just the other night, Harold had sat by the fire, brandy in his hand, staring at Georgina, the dark, flat gaze moving to her mid-section, then her breasts. Calculating her worth. He’d become even more dangerous if Masterson’s debts were called due by Elysium. The existence of the markers was just the sort of information her husband would have kept from his detested nephew and heir.
“Will you write to Mr. Cooke again when we’re settled?”
“Yes.” She’d only written to Ben and Lilian once, entrusting the letters to the Duke of Averell. Another service he’d done Georgina because she didn’t trust that Harold wouldn’t read her correspondence. Once settled at the duke’s estate, she would write both her cousin and sister with detailed instructions. At least one of them would come to her aid. Hopefully both. Ben had been her best friend since she was a child, and she trusted him completely.
“Your plan is a good one, my lady.” Stella gave her an encouraging smile. “A tad complicated, mind you, but sound, for all of that. But are you certain you must go to such great lengths?”
“I am. Haroldismad, Stella.”
“Then I’m grateful we are under the duke’s protection. What abouthim, my lady?”
Georgina looked away, pretending to study the view of the maple tree outside her bedroom window. Most days, she was successful in not thinking of Leo, at least for the most part. Now that her anger had abated to a dull wounded hum, Georgina could examine their conversation in the garden in a more objective light. Stella’s question brought with it a small prick of guilt, especially when she remembered that flicker of pain in Leo’s eyes. But not enough to change her mind about what she must do.
There was someone else to consider now.
“He isn’t important, Stella.”
Stella nodded. “Why don’t you have a rest, my lady, from all this planning? All will be well. I’m sure of it. I’ll have tea brought up in a bit.”
“What would I do without you?” Georgina impulsively hugged the maid, feeling the other woman’s surprise before she returned the embrace. “I truly do not know. I would be so alone. You have been a true friend to me. Not just my maid.”
