****
George and his mother conversed well past their discussion on Lord Flannery's will, and by the time he returned to his study, he was more than a little fatigued.
He dropped down into his seat and gazed out of the floor-to-ceiling window, admiring the roses growing outside. Those roses, Lady Cecelia had always stopped to smell whenever she visited. In fact, it was always one of the very first things she did.
He smiled at the memory as he realized,I cannot chaperone Lady Cecelia.
It would not be in the least bit appropriate, he decided, and knew he should take the decision to the Flannerys the very next morning.
How they might react, he was not certain, but his mind was set.
Chapter 5
“Now, remember girls, you must be on your best behaviour,” Catherine said, impersonating their mother as their carriage headed towards town.
Cecelia had to bite back laughter. She had to admit that she felt a little better outside of the house, out from under her mother's oppressive gaze.
Though she hadn't mentioned it for the last couple of days, Cecelia knew very well the matter that flooded her mother's mind.
“What does she truly believe we could do that would be so terrible?” Mary asked.
The three of them looked at each other and laughed all over again. Even Cecelia's lady's maid, Sophia, looked amused.
“I suppose it is most likely to be me she is concerned about,” Cecelia said, thinking of all the rebellious things she had done when she was younger.
“And rightly so,” Catherine said. “We are all concerned with you.”
Cecelia grimaced. She hated being the centre of attention.
“Let's just get to the modiste and get home before mother has kittens,” she said, hoping to get things over and done with.
“Don't forget the bookstore,” Mary reminded her, “you promised.”
Cecelia scowled and ruffled Mary's hair. “How could I possibly forget?”
“I don't see why we have to do this anyway,” Catherine complained, “it isn't as if you will actually attend any events this Season.”
“Be that as it may,” Cecelia sighed. “I promised Mother I would see everything arranged in case Lord Cumberland has a change of heart.”
Just to utter his name made Cecelia shiver.
“Do you think he shall?” Mary asked, her expression growing excited. “Wouldn't it be wonderful?”
“Something like that,” Cecelia grumbled as the carriage pulled up outside the modiste. She could think of many other words to describe it.
Their trip inside went just as Cecelia had anticipated.
She spent much of the time trying to avoid being pricked by pins, listening to Catherine complain of how bored she was, whilst Mary continued to insist that they must get to the bookstore before it closed for lunch.
“I promise, we shall go to the bookstore,” Cecelia insisted, adding, “and if you quit complaining, Catherine, I shall take us to the tearooms for ice-cream once we're finished.”
“And to buy apples at the market?” Mary chirped, her big blue eyes round with hope.
“And to buy apples,” Cecelia promised, smiling. Her sister had always been fond of Mrs Mable's apples.
“If you wish to buy apples, you had better make haste,” Catherine said, her scowl assuring Cecelia that she only cared to get home. “Mrs Mable likes to close the stall early sometimes.”
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