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Theresa started to laugh. “Just be careful you don’t do so on a dark night. You will have a lot to excuse if you end up picking out the vicar.”
Georgiana dropped her head in her hands. “I want to be able to kiss someone, and then just casually walk away, but not the vicar.”
“What if they stopped you and wanted more?” Theresa challenged, her brows lifted.
Given the ludicrousness of some of Georgiana’s musings, Theresa doubted her friend would ever bring them to fruition. They were the rather wayward ramblings of someone who had just had her heart broken and was desperately looking for a way to prove she didn’t care. While wiling away an afternoon by inventing ridiculously daring scrapes neither of them would have the strength, courage, or opportunity to make a reality seemed a relatively harmless thing to do, Theresa suspected that Georgiana would never outrun her love for Will, not least because she had a connection to Cranbury, and Will. Whenever she thought of home, she would invariably wonder about Will, and that would always bring back the hurt she was experiencing now. Still, she didn’t tell her friend that. Instead, in a determined effort to alleviate some of Georgiana’s distress, Theresa threw herself into Georgiana’s list with as much enthusiasm as her friend.
“I want to scrump for apples,” Georgiana declared after several moments of thoughtful silence.
“Georgiana, you are one and twenty. You cannot go about climbing trees. Not only will you never manage it in a dress without breaking your neck but you are a young woman not a child. It would be better to just pick up any fallen fruit off the floor. It is more ladylike.”
“It is not the same, though, is it? I mean, anybody can pick up fruit. The adventure lies in how you get the fruit. Climbing to the top of the tree is daring, reckless even, I will admit, but I will merely be sampling life and challenging myself to be something more than I am. If I try it and find I am not physically able to do it I can cross it off my list. I shall have to consider my limitations then but until I try to scrump, I have no idea whether I can do it or not.”
“I don’t doubt you can do it. It is just not proper,” Theresa protested. “What do you expect to do, tuck your dress into your undergarments and flash everything at the world while you forage in the leaves ten feet off the ground?”
Her mirth died when Georgiana looked steadily at her.
“Please tell me you don’t?” she begged, unsure whether she should laugh or cry.
“I have seen my brothers do it lots of times throughout my youth. It is something I could do too.” She glanced about them but there were no trees nearby for her to use to show her.
“Yes, but the last time Arthur tried it he broke his arm and wasn’t allowed out for weeks,” Theresa replied.
“Well, they can’t keep me housebound. Like you have just said, I am one and twenty. I am an adult. Most women my age are married with children by now.”
That made both young women fall into thoughtful silence.
“Mother wants me to go to Cambridgeshire to live for a while. My Uncle Cuthbert has sent an invitation,” Theresa confided sadly after a while. “My mother says I should be nearer to London so that I can engage in a more active social life.”
Georgiana nodded. “I am going to go to my Aunt Ruth’s.”
Theresa glanced at her. “But your mother hates your aunt more than everyone else.”
Georgiana grinned wryly. “Why do you think I am going?”
Theresa laughed but her mirth quickly died. “When do you leave?”
“As soon as possible,” Georgiana shrugged. “Tomorrow maybe.”
“Why don’t you tell them?” Theresa asked softly. “Your parent’s I mean?”
Georgiana shook her head.
“You have to leave them a note at least so they know you weren’t stolen in the night, or wandered off in a sleepy daze. They need to be made aware that this has been pre-planned, and at least have an idea of where you have gone,” Theresa said gently.
“No, they don’t.” Georgiana’s tone warned Theresa she wouldn’t budge on the issue.
“He deserves the old hag,” Theresa murmured several minutes later in an attempt to alleviate her friend’s despondency.
Georgiana tried a smile but failed miserably.
“Good morning, ladies.”
Georgiana closed her eyes and wished she could be anywhere else. She hated to have to turn around and even speak with him. It hurt too much and cost her more than she cared to admit to plaster a polite yet disinterested smile on her face and feign indifference as she stood.
“Good morning, my Lord,” Theresa murmured politely when Georgiana didn’t speak. She quickly rose and bobbed a curtsey.
Georgiana didn’t bother with either and remained motionless with her gaze pinned to the grass beneath her feet.
