Page 33 of Debtor’s Daughter

Chapter 10

Georgette stared at her reflection in the looking glass. Her hair, once glossy and a rich chestnut, now appeared a dingy mud colour, her eyes obscured by spectacles. Surely, in this guise, she would be safe, and no one would recognise her.

Excitement rose in her breast, the future before her suddenly full of possibilities. She had thwarted her grandfather’s scheme to marry her off and now she was free. The vile Lord Hanover could find another poor little heiress to marry, for it would never be her.

―Excerpt from ‘His Grace and Disfavour’, by an anonymous author.

3rd October 1850, Montagu House, St James’s, London.

“—and then I discovered he was haunting the cuckoo clock he gave me,” Aunt Connie said with a tragic sigh.

Maggie groaned inwardly and closed her eyes. Well, this was it. If Lady Montagu decided they were too peculiar for her to wish to be associated with, they would know shortly. Gingerly opening her eyes, she discovered Lady Montagu did not look the least bit dismayed by this unusual confidence, however, but intrigued.

“How fascinating. I wish I could introduce you to our old housekeeper, but she is very elderly now and prefers to stay at home. But she is—well, I suppose one would say a wise woman,” Lady Montagu said with a smile. “And the things I have seen her do would open your eyes to a great many possibilities about life and about feminine power and… oh, a host of things. I certainly do not dismiss the possibility of ghosts, and why not the cuckoo clock, if it was his only connection to the woman he loved? It’s terribly romantic, though such a sad tale. I am so sorry for your loss,” she said, reaching over to pat Connie’s hand.

“Thank you, my lady. I felt sure you would understand. I said to Maggie just this morning that I sensed you were a woman who is in touch with the other side.” Connie mouthed these last words as if they were too powerful to speak aloud.

“Well, I cannot say as to that,” Lady Montagu replied thoughtfully. “I have never had such interactions personally. Truthfully, I believe I am rather afraid of the possibility. For it is one thing to allow that such things exist, but quite another to invite them into your life.”

“Would you not like to attend a séance, then?” Connie persisted.

“That would be a little difficult, I fear, even if I did, which I am not at all certain of. But so many of those who purport to have such talents are charlatans; it is terribly hard to discover someone who truly has the gift. My husband is rather protective of me, I’m afraid, and he would not like me mixing with anyone if he did not trust their motives were genuine.”

“A pity,” Connie said with a frown, but before she could persuade Lady Montagu into accompanying her to some dodgy séance, the door opened, and Miss Barrington appeared with Gideon in tow.

He was still gazing at his companion with a look that bordered upon worshipful, but he looked relatively clean, and though Maggie discerned a jam stain on his previously pristine sailor suit, she sighed with relief. The two children were obviously still friends, and nothing had been torn or ruined beyond saving.

“Ah! Tilly, darling, come and give me a kiss,” Lady Montagu said eagerly, holding her arms open for Tilly to run into. “And who is this handsome fellow?”

“This is Master Gideon,” Miss Barrington replied, kissing her grandmother on the cheek. “But he prefers to be called Giddy,” she added with a giggle.

“Mama!” Giddy said, running to hug her. “We had cake!”

“And so did we,” Maggie said, laughing and tweaking his nose. “Aren’t we all lucky?”

“What cake you had, Mama?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she whispered. “Make your bow to Lady Montagu now, just like we practised.”

Maggie gave her son a gentle push, and he stepped forward. “Good day, lady,” he said solemnly and gave a very low bow.

“Nicely done, Master Gideon,” Lady Montagu said, smiling warmly at him. “What a fine gentleman you are.”

“Fanks,” Gideon replied, and ran back to bury his face in his mother’s skirts.

“He’s adorable,” Lady Montagu said, laughing, before turning back to her granddaughter. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Yes. He’s very funny, and he certainly loves cake,” Miss Barrington said, grinning.

Everyone, certainly Gideon, deemed the visit a splendid success, and when Mr Weston returned, they said their goodbyes. Once settled in the carriage, everyone had something to say.

“So much cake!”

“—and did I not say we had a connection? She is certainly as spiritual as I believed.”

“—and Lady Montagu is sending her own modiste to our home, to measure me and begin work on my gown for my presentation at court!”

Maggie laughed and nodded and tried to speak to everyone at once, relieved and delighted that they were all in such high spirits. She looked up, a little disconcerted to discover Mr Weston watching her. He was the only one who had not spoken, and she felt the strangest sensation as his eyes met hers. Warmth surged beneath her skin, and an odd, ticklish sensation fluttered inside her. She smiled at him uncertainly.