she can for her children. Even to the extent of—’ She stopped. Glanced at Georgie. Flushed. ‘Well, I am sorry, dear, but though I grew fond of your father by the end, you have to admit he was not exactly the stuff of a maiden’s dreams.’
Georgie gasped. ‘Do you mean to say, you married Papa to...that you were...put up to it?’
‘Well, I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but you have no notion of how hard it is, trying to maintain standards when you are a widow and your husband has left you with nothing but debts. I was at my wits’ end when Lady Ashenden approached me with what sounded like a wonderful opportunity. A chance to give Sukey every advantage she should have had, what with her being so pretty. Her ladyship told me she knew of a widower, a man of substance, who had a daughter in dire need of feminine guidance. That she’d arrange a match between us and see Sukey had the chance to rise in the world.’ She reached for a handkerchief to dab at her nose, which had grown pink with distress. ‘Well, of course, I agreed on the spot. And married your father.’
Georgiana was suddenly aware she’d been clutching Edmund’s hand so tightly his fingers were going white. She made a determined effort to relax her grip, even though it felt as though he was the only solid thing left in a world that was splintering apart.
‘Had my mother,’ he said, flexing his hand as his fingers flushed pink once more, ‘by any chance, had a word with him, too?’
Stepmama nodded vigorously. ‘At our first meeting, he told me that Lady Ashenden had felt obliged to warn him that his daughter was on the verge of creating a scandal that was entirely his own fault for bringing her up in such a lax manner. And that if he didn’t do something soon, she—you—would become the talk of the county. Very upset, he was. Admitted he’d made a mull of things. Said he should have seen he needed a woman about the place to teach you how to go on,’ she said, turning to Georgiana.
Lady Ashenden had told Papa he’d been a bad parent? When he’d been so utterly wonderful?
‘Lady Ashenden had told him how well behaved Sukey was and what a good influence she’d be, just by living alongside of you. And said that if I’d brought up one girl so nicely, she was sure I could achieve the same with you. Well, he only had to meet Sukey the once to see the difference.’
When Edmund winced, she realised her grip on his hand had reached painful proportions once more. But her own pain was so great it was a wonder she wasn’t howling.
‘Begged me, he did, to steer you back to the straight and narrow. As well as explaining all...’ she waved her hand at the bed in which Georgie lay ‘...this sort of thing.’
Now, that Georgie could understand. Her father would never have been able to cope with explaining what was happening to her body, when she started maturing. She’d always, instinctively, tried to keep all this sort of thing hidden from him.
‘He said he hadn’t the heart to discipline you for the faults you’d acquired, when he was the one who deserved a beating for not teaching you right from wrong.’
Georgie let go of Edmund’s hand to press her hands to her own mouth to stifle a sob. Because she finally understood why Papa had seemed to suddenly turn against her. Knew what lay behind those looks he’d given her—as though he was disappointed in her. It hadn’t been any such thing. It had been guilt. He had been trying to correct a fault for which he felt responsible...
No wonder he had turned away whenever Stepmama got out the cane. No wonder he had been unable to look her in the eye.
He hadn’t been ashamed of her. Disappointed in her.
He’d been ashamed of himself.
Edmund slid his arm round her shoulder as though he knew how hard she was struggling not to weep. She turned her face gratefully into his shoulder. For all these years, she’d thought first Edmund, and then her father, had turned against her. But it hadn’t been the case at all.
It had all been Lady Ashenden’s work.
‘Why did she do it?’ Once she’d regained control of herself, she lifted her face to Edmund’s and looked beseechingly into his eyes. ‘Why go to such lengths to make us hate each other?’
‘She wanted to make sure the split was permanent.’
Georgie frowned, her confusion only growing. ‘But...why?’
He sighed. ‘She didn’t want me to have to marry you.’
Her confusion only grew. ‘Marry you? Then? But...we were children. Far too young to be thinking of marriage.’
‘Juliet was only fourteen when she conceived her fatal passion for Romeo, I believe,’ he said. ‘When Mrs Bulstrode told her how she’d found us together, I dare say she thought you were more precocious than that hot-blooded Italian. And took steps to prevent me from succumbing to your charms.’
‘My charms? Succumbing? You?’
‘Well, I think that is quite enough of that,’ said Stepmama, who had clearly regained control of her equilibrium. ‘Put Lord Ashenden down, Georgie, there’s a good girl,’ she said firmly.
And because she was in the habit of obeying her stepmother, Georgie, who’d been clinging to him like a limpet, forced herself to do so.
‘And now, my lord,’ she said, going to the door and opening it, ‘if you would care to take tea before you leave, while we discuss the legalities?’
It was framed as a question only out of deference to his rank. What Stepmama was really doing was ordering him out of her room.
‘Leave? No, Edmund...’ She reached for his hand. He couldn’t leave, not as things were. It was all very well to have cleared up the misunderstandings that had blighted their childhood friendship, but if he left it like this, they would end up married. When it was the last thing he wanted.
But Edmund evaded her questing fingers and stood up. ‘Your stepmother is correct. The mode of our betrothal has been unorthodox enough to cause gossip. I shall not subject you to more by doing anything likely to tarnish your reputation further.’
Unorthodox? What an understatement. If Stepmama hadn’t blundered in, or if she hadn’t set up such a screech that it had brought the servants running, there wouldn’t be a betrothal.
But now that Edmund had pointed out the advantages such a marriage would mean for Sukey, Stepmama wouldn’t rest until she’d seen the notice in the Morning Post.
‘No, Edmund, there must be some other way to straighten out this mess.’
He turned to her, his face grim. ‘You regard being betrothed to me in the light of a misfortune?’
‘Of course it is!’ He’d turned her down when she’d all but begged him to save her from having to come to London and go through a Season. Since then, he’d done all he could to teach her how to handle suitors, including getting her to itemise the things that would make some other man bearable as a husband.
Some other man.
‘You know it is!’
He gave an elegant shrug of his shoulders. ‘Nevertheless, we will marry. We have been caught in a compromising position and this is the only way to salvage your reputation, and ensure that Sukey’s remains untarnished. You had better,’ he said, striding to the door, ‘accustom yourself.’
And with that Parthian shot, he stalked out, Stepmama hard on his heels.
Edmund waited until the notice of his forthcoming marriage to Miss Georgiana Wickford appeared in print before calling upon her again. He wasn’t going to give her any opportunity to wriggle free now he’d got her hooked.
Besides which, it turned out that arranging a wedding at short notice required a great many hours of work.