Page 23 of Counting on Love

“The Earl is doing better than anyone anticipated. She did not elaborate, and I would not have expected her to, so I’m not sure what that means, precisely. At any rate, it seems Olivia will not make her debut this Season either. The girl has been stoic, but she is lonely, and Lady Iversley asks if you and Alice and I can be spared to keep her company for a few weeks. Perhaps through Christmas.”

“Oh, Mama, how awful.” Lady Iversley should invite an actual friend of Lady Olivia’s to keep her company and provide comfort, not three strangers. They were using the poor girl as an excuse to bring her and Lord Taverston together. “That will fool no one. It will feed the fire.”

“Of course it will. Or we can snuff it. I took so long because I composed a careful letter saying it might be unwise to put too much pressure on you children. But then I tore it up. You aren’t children. Lord Taverston will soon be deluged with responsibilities, and it would be convenient to have this, at least, settled. He must have asked Lady Iversley to write.”

“I am to be a convenience for him?” she demanded, irritated beyond measure that her mother expected her to play along with this farce, to play into the hands of the gossipy ton.

“Don’t be snide, love. It’s a very good match and I’m sure you can see that. Neither your father nor I will tell you whom you must marry, but frankly, you’ve turned down many offers that would make any other girl ecstatic. And Lord Taverston is…” She appeared to notice Georgiana’s expression and stopped her scolding. She came closer and tenderly caressed Georgiana’s cheek. “Dear, what are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. Mama, if I knew, I might have some hope of finding it.” She choked back her tears. Was she wrong to think falling in love required something more than summing up a man’s qualities and finding them sufficient? If anyone should understand what she yearned for, it should be Mama, who was blessed with a love-match. That was what she wanted, but she hadn’t the faintest idea how such matches came about. “What were you looking for when you met Father?”

Her mother sighed. “Someone kind. Someone who made me laugh.”

“But surely there were other men who met those criteria. Would you have loved them the way you love Father? Does it even matter who I wed?” Her tears flowed.

“Of course it matters, sweetheart. And we would not let you marry the wrong person. We would not have let you say ‘yes’ to Hazard even though all we adore him. We want you to be happy and you could not be with him.”

She asked, sobbing the question, not defiant but hopeful, “And you think I will be happy with Lord Taverston?”

“I think you could be. But it takes time. I don’t mean a long courtship. It takes, well, years. Years of effort, and arguments, and tears, and laughter. You have to grow together. Your father and I did not find instantaneous happiness.”

“You didn’t?” She shuddered a breath, then rubbed her arm across her nose. She didn’t know whether this was hopeful—she could grow to be happy with Lord Taverston—or terrifying—she could marry him based on that premise and then be disappointed. For the rest of her life. “I should have a handkerchief.”

“I don’t suppose you expected to become a watering pot. Georgiana, I tore up the letter I wrote because I realized I could not decide for you. If we don’t go to Chaumbers, there may be a chance for you and Lord Taverston to court later, but there may not. It’s unfair, but he may see this as a ‘no’ and look elsewhere. There is a chance, too, that you may yet meet someone here in London.”

“But if we do go to Chaumbers, it will seal my fate.”

“That is an ominous way to put it, but I think it’s likely it will.” She laughed a little hollowly. “The ton has already married you two off.”

“Alice will miss her Season.”

“Only a few weeks of it. And Lady Iversley writes that there are eligible gentlemen in the surroundings, and she will be inviting other young folks to help entertain you both and lighten the atmosphere. I don’t see that it will harm Alice any. Her coming out ball is not until the end of the Season and most of the plans for it are already under way.”

“I am beginning to believe the gossips are right and that you and Lady Iversley have been plotting this for years.”

Mama harumphed.

Oh! She was being a child. There was nothing wrong with Lord Taverston. She breathed deeply. “I think we should go.”