Chapter Thirty-Four
Sally soon arrived with the bath salts in hand. The Countess remained with Georgiana while the girl was bathed in what was evidently the first time in a long while. The bathwater had to be emptied and refilled twice before Georgiana was truly clean, even with the help of the Countess’ favorite lavender salts.
Georgiana’s condition was alarming; though clearly with child, she was far too thin, her ribs visible beneath her skin. And those bruises on her arms! And her poor hands, so red and raw!
“Are you hungry, my dear?” she asked.
Georgiana nodded. “I think I am always hungry,” she confessed.
“Sally, a tray,” the Countess said. Sally nodded and disappeared, returning shortly with a tray laden with cold chicken, bread, butter, a large slice of cake and a pot of tea.
“Slowly, dearest,” she admonished her niece, as Georgiana began to devour the food as if she had not eaten in a long while. “Did he not feed you?”
“Oh, Aunt, it was everything terrible! He did not love me and he – and Mrs. Younge – and –“
“Wait, Georgiana. Your uncle will want to hear every detail, and I do not want you to have to tell your tale twice. Perhaps a bit of rest now?”
“Oh, yes. But, Aunt, George will try to get at me; you must not let him in. He is not truly my husband and has no claim on me.”
Other than his bastard child, the Countess thought, but she said nothing. Sally had already returned with one of the Countess’ older nightrails, which Georgiana slipped over her head.
The Countess pulled down the covers of the soft bed and helped her niece to climb in, tucking the blankets around Georgiana as if she were just a child. “Sleep, dear, as long as you like. Pull the bell cord when you awaken and Sally will find me.”
Sally opened the door for the Countess and then followed her out into the hallway.
“Sally…”
“Of course, I will say nothing.”
“And Agnes?”
Sally pursed her lips. “She loves to tell tales, that one.”
The Countess sighed. “I should have called for you to help me undress her. I knew I could not conceal Georgiana’s presence, as both Agnes and Mr. Robeson had already seen her, but now Agnes knows Georgiana is pregnant as well.”
“Mr. Robeson will not tell tales, of course. Let me talk to Agnes.”
“Do you think you can silence her?”
“I think I can, yes; she does not wish it known that she is often found kissing Alfred downstairs.”
“The footman?”
“Yes, my lady.” Sally’s eyes were sparkling with mischief.
“Sally, is it not wonderful how the wrongdoings of one person are kept secret by the threat of disclosure of another person’s wrongdoings?”
“I do not know that I ever thought of it as wonderful, my lady, but just now it is certainly convenient.”
“It is. I thank you, Sally.”
The Countess made her way downstairs to await the Earl’s return.
***
The Earl returned to Matlock House early. His usual practice of spending the entire day with his cronies, discussing politics, had ended with his niece’s misstep. He made it a point to leave the house each day, so as not to become a recluse, but he was glad to return to the safety of his own home.
He was usually greeted by Mr. Robeson who, with a completely impassive face, would take the Earl’s hat, umbrella, and whatever else he had carried, while the Earl himself would ascend to his room, there to have his valet help him change out of his uncomfortable street clothes and into less unforgiving informal attire.
