Georgiana’s heart tugged, glancing between the two. A love-match. Clear as day.
“I do not think Lord Rutledge would use that phrasing. I’m fairly certain he quite likes your chaos.” Felicity shot Lady Rutledge a knowing look. “At least if what I saw when I stumbled upon you two at the Marsden’s ball last season was any indication.” She waggled her eyebrows.
Lady Rutledge broke out in a sly grin, not an ounce of embarrassment in her expression. She let out a little sigh. “That was a spectacular ball.”
“Yes, theballwas spectacular,” Felicity said dryly.
Lady Rutledge giggled and shot Georgiana a wink. Georgiana couldn’t prevent her smile. This woman was a spitfire, and Georgiana liked her immensely.
“I have to say, I am so glad to see Mr. Jennings has found such a lovely bride. And by lovely, I mean just as spirited as Lady Felicity here. Your husband is the kindest of gentlemen. A rare gem in our world. You two make quite the dashing pair.”
Georgiana’s stomach sloshed uneasily, and her smile turned strained. “Thank you, Lady Rutledge.”
Felicity’s concerned brows made it clear her upset was showing.
Georgiana hastily changed the subject. “I had wanted to ask you about the foundling home your husband runs. Do they have visiting hours? I would love to visit with the children. I think it is absolutely lovely that your husband and his partners visit them during the Christmastide.”
Felicity bounced animatedly before she caught herself and settled for vibrating with excitement instead. “Oh, what a lovely idea! Perhaps we could visit them in the next day or so and have a snowball fight!”
Lady Rutledge brought her gloved hand to cover her mouth, stifling her laughter. “Egads, Lady Felicity. Have I mentioned I adore you and your fire? You and the children will surely get along splendidly.” Lady Rutledge turned to Georgiana. “I think that is a fabulous idea. The gentlemen do their best to be active with the home, and the staff there are lovely, but it is not the same as having a loving family.”
“I can imagine it can feel lonely,” Georgiana murmured. She knew all too well what it meant to be lonely. Unwanted. “Even as much as I am sure they appreciate the home taking them in.” This was something small she could do, and perhaps it would help her own lonely heart. What was left of it in the wreckage of her husband’s grenade.
“We do our best to set them up for a life of success, finding them positions and apprenticeships. Hopefully, one day, they will be in a position to have the family they were not blessed with.”
Another idea struck Georgiana. “Do you happen to have any young women who could serve as a lady’s maid? I am in need of one, and I would love to offer the position to one of your girls if it fits.”
Lady Rutledge tapped her lip and tilted her head. “I will have to speak with our matron who runs the home. We just might.” Her lips curved softly, her green eyes gentling. “That is exceedingly thoughtful of you, Mrs. Jennings.”
Her gaze shot over Georgiana’s shoulder. “Ah, I see we are ready for supper! I must find the Duke of Ironcrest to escort me in.” She leaned toward Georgiana and Felicity. “Perhaps make Lord Rutledge a mite jealous. He gets all growly when I get close to the Duke. Some old spat or some such between the two of them.” She sent them a wink and left them in a swirl of saucy skirts.
Georgiana huffed out a laugh, watching as the woman disappeared into the crowd. “She is a vixen, is she not?”
Felicity took Georgiana’s arm, and they meandered toward the supper room. “That she is. A woman after my own heart. Us hoydens have to stick together.”
Wasn’t that the truth? If she didn’t have her husband, at least she’d have her hoydens.
She had miraculously managed to get through dinner without crying or casting up her accounts, mainly because she had barely touched her food. But Felicity’s increasingly worried glances made it clear she wasn’t fooling anyone. Which was how Georgiana currently found herself cornered in Lady Rutledge’s drawing room, where the guests had reconvened, subjected to her sister-in-law’s interrogation.
“What is wrong?” Felicity asked, fierce and beautiful as ever in her champagne silk gown.
Georgiana opened her mouth, but Felicity shot up an eyebrow.
“Don’t try to say nothing. You are always smiling, chatty, and bright eyed. You’re like an adorable little bushy-tailed bunny. And now?” Felicity paused, studying Georgiana. “Now you look like a carriage ran over your poor little bunny-self. Bunny roadkill.”
“That’s not very flattering,” Georgiana muttered.
Her sister-in-law let out a hushed snort. “You’re beautiful roadkill, if that helps at all.”
Georgiana’s lips twitched.
“Life! She lives!” Felicity’s smile quickly faded, and her eyes grew serious. “But seriously, G, what is going on? I knew from the moment we stepped out of the carriage something was wrong, but this is the first moment we’ve had any privacy.”
Georgiana’s heart gave a weak flop at the pet name Felicity had just made for her. Apparently, the thing was still in there. She could have sworn she left it on her husband’s study floor. She glanced at said husband. He stood with another scholar, deep in conversation, his brow set in concentration. Her husband had been correct. The Rutledge’s supper parties were different. There were more men in trade and of business than there were other aristocrats. There were many academics, some who made Fitz’s awkwardness appear tame. Even as he destroyed her, seeing him converse so freely, speak so assuredly, it made her deeply happy. For him.
“G?” Felicity prodded.
She glanced down at her ivory gloves and fidgeted with the button on her wrist. “I can’t speak of it right now,” she murmured.
