Walter laughed good-naturedly as if the truth was of no bother to him.
“I don't think I have ever seen you so distracted,” he said, shaking his head. “Whatever the reason, colour me intrigued.”
George shrugged. “There was much business being discussed last evening. It plagues me.”
George was more than a little relieved when his friend seemed to take his answer seriously.
“Speaking of business, I had the pleasure of becoming reacquainted with an old friend some two days ago,” Walter said. He paused to take a drink, his face still quite flushed as George suspected his own was. “You might remember Henry Beaumont?”
George laughed at that.
“How could I not?”
There was no mistaking that he, Walter, Daniel, and Henry had been solid friends during their schooldays.
Yet, in all the turmoil of the last few years, he had not seen hide nor hair of him. “How is he?”
“Well,” Walter nodded, and his expression suddenly became contrite, “though he had a great deal to say about a certain Lord Greystone.”
George's back straightened at the mention of Cecelia's latest suitor.
He gritted his teeth against the urge to demand all Walter had learned. Taking a quick breath, he said, “Well?”
“Apparently, the man is still well acquainted with several unsavoury characters,” Walter said, and George's jaw clenched. “He has been seen at many a disreputable establishment since returning to London.”
Bile rose in the back of George's throat.
“Considering your conversation with him at the club, I decided you ought to know,” Walter said. Struggling to contain his sudden anger, George laid a hand on Walter's shoulder.
“Thank you, Walt, you are a good friend.”
Silently, he cursed himself for not having gone with his gut and investigated the man further.
Walter shrugged.
“I could not forgive myself if anything bad were to befall our Cecelia,” Walter admitted, and the mere mention of her made George's heart skip a beat.
His determination to see her well cared for was immediately renewed. His first order of business once their fencing had finished was made clear to him.
“I shall see the matter investigated,” he assured his friend. Laying his glass back on the table, he asked, “Shall we continue?”
Walter laughed and shook his head. “I fear I shall do you an injury in your current state. Besides, I know you cannot wait to make your enquiries. Your chaperoning duties being your top priority as they are.”
The way Walter looked at him then made George quite uncomfortable. Perhaps the feelings he'd had for Cecelia all of this time were not quite so hidden as he had once believed.
Chapter 19
It had been two days since Lord and Lady Rosehill's ball, and two days of receiving callers. Two days in which Cecelia was greatly surprised that she did not see George.
Though she ought not have been surprised after their kiss that evening, it still stung her to wonder why he had yet to show his face at Fernworth.
The manor had begun to feel like somewhat of a prison over the last few days, her mother insisting she give equal time to all the gentlemen at their door, otherwise instructing her on all she must do to find a match and secure it before it was too late.
And she was most relieved when a quiet lull in visitors allowed her and her sisters a respite to enjoy a walk in the park.
Truly, she would much rather have been running through the meadows of Fernworth, the only place she felt truly free, but the park came a close second.
Watching Mary attempt to juggle the handle of her parasol and the two books she had insisted upon bringing, she felt the weight upon her shoulders ease off a little.
