Who steals the common from off the goose.
Turley surprised Georgie by having a lovely melodic baritone that she could have listened to for hours. He was joined by Frits, with a slightly lower voice, singing harmony during the first chorus. They had both raised their glasses of wine which the butler was happy to refill. By the second chorus, most of the other guests had had their glasses refilled and joined in. In fact, the only one who had not sung was Lord Lytton. Although Georgie had not given it any thought, he might very well be a Tory. In that case, he would not have enjoyed the song at all.
“Bravo!” Mary Turner started to clap and the others quickly joined in. “I do not think I have ever heard such magnificent singing from gentlemen.”
“We must definitely add a singing evening to our events,” Amanda added.
“Or perhaps to augment the evening the ladies were to show their talents,” Mary said.
Low moans were heard from some of the men, but others grinned and raised their glasses again. Georgie would wager that most of them had a great deal of experience singing songs that were not fit for a lady’s ears.
“The question is,” Lord Bottomley said, “do you have the proper sheet music?”
Mary’s eyes widened. “I have no idea. We shall have to sort through it all. But if we are in need of it we have an excellent circulating library.”
Turley barked a laugh. “If not, Littleton and I can write down the words of songs we remember.” Turley pulled a face. “I don’t know about the music, though.”
“That is not a problem.” Georgie had blurted out the words before thinking about them. “If you sing the song to me I can probably pick out the tune. I do not need sheet music.”
“Do you not?” He gave her a considering glance. “That’s amazing.”
Before she could demure, Lord St. Albans came back into the room looking much better than he had when he’d left and very much on his dignity. “Miss Blomefield’s maid said she would be down shortly.” He held up a finger that had a plaster on it, and focused on their hosts. “Before you send your guests to visit the geese, I would suggest you train them not to attack.”
“A very good idea, my lord. I do not know why that was not taken care of before.” Mary’s face flushed, but Georgie did not think it was from embarrassment as her voice shook with what sounded like suppressed laughter.
While the rest of the table stifled their laughter, Littleton caught Gavin’s eye. His friend must have realized that Gavin and Georgie had been accidentally left alone. Damn the man, Littleton was going to subject him to “a talk.” It was not as if he and Georgie had planned to be in the attic alone. If St. Albans had had the sense to listen to Miss Blomefield and look for another painting—it wasn’t possible they were meant to find the same one—they would have been with them. Now that Gavin thought about it, finding the maid had been extremely fortunate. Had the maid left because she was supposed to find the other couple? Somehow, he’d find time to ask St. Albans exactly what had happened, but in a way as to not arouse suspicion. As to Georgie, he had promised he would not compromise her, and if anything happened to cause anyone to think she had been compromised, he would stand by her decision.
Miss Blomefield finally arrived and the Turners and Fitzwalters shooed everyone out to the hall. Fortunately, Fritz had the forethought to call for his coach. Gavin had no idea how far the town was, but he knew Adeline might not be up to the walk back here before going home. Or were they going home? No, they must be. None of them had brought evening kit.
They had reached the hall when Frits said, “I’d like to speak with you.”
Then Gavin heard Georgie say, “I think we should all go outside. I gather we are taking the carriage.”
Frits inclined his head. “Very well. We’ll let the others get sorted.”
The four of them continued out the front door, down the steps, and off to the side of the drive where they could not be overheard.
Littleton’s mouth flattened in a good imitation of a displeased father. “From what just occurred, I assume that another couple was to have been in the attic with you. Exactly how long were you alone?”
Georgie crossed her arms under her breasts, plumping them and making Gavin want to groan.
“Not long at all.” She went on to explain how they’d found the maid and that she had led them to the attic. “She was present while we asked questions. After that, we found the trunk in just a few minutes, gathered the items, and left.”
He nodded his concurrence with what she’d said. “It occurred to me after I saw St. Albans that the maid had probably been waiting for us and went to search for St. Albans and Miss Blomefield.”
“Who were fighting real geese.” Adeline leaned against her husband and started to laugh. “I—I haven’t heard anything that funny in a long time.”
“It was humorous.” Georgie began to chuckle.
He glanced at Littleton and shook his head. “We’d better not start. With four of us we’ll never stop.”
Other conveyances drew up in front of the house and the guests began climbing in. Gavin held his arm out to Georgie, who was wiping her eyes. “We had better go. Have you ever been to this town?”
“I have not.” Her voice still shook a bit. “But it is the one where both the Turners and the Fitzwalters married.”
She went on to relate the story of the ladies wishing to marry on the same day if not in the same ceremony, and Lord Fitzwalter refusing to have a wedding at St. George’s, and Mr. Fitzwalter saving the day by remembering about the church in Croseton, a town owned by both families.
“I daresay it holds fond memories for both of them,” Georgie concluded.
