Chapter 28

Her brother and her aunt accompanied Georgie downstairs, keeping their faces admirably straight and avoiding catching each other's eyes, and found His Grace busy with his steward. That gentleman took his leave at once, and when the door had closed behind him, Georgiana approached the Duke and said resolutely, ‘I will marry you, if you still wish me to.'

He had risen as they entered, and took her hand, raising it to his lips and saying, ‘Thank you. I hope… But this is not the time, perhaps, for such discussions.'

Their eyes locked, and though they did not speak or move they appeared to have forgotten that any other persons were present in the room; Hal was obliged to clear his throat to drag their attention away from each other. ‘How are we to manage the business?' he asked prosaically. ‘I think perhaps you should arrange for a special licence, Northriding – let's not wait three weeks for the banns to be read, shall we?'

‘Please, God, no. I don't think I could stand it,' said Louisa to nobody in particular.

‘I have, in fact, already sent to obtain one, a day or so ago,' the Duke said. He met his betrothed's outraged gaze steadily, though his lips twitched, and said blandly, ‘I thought it seemed like a useful sort of a thing to have to hand.'

Louisa snorted, and converted it to a cough, but Georgie paid her no heed. ‘Is it possible merely to insert the gentleman's name, and leave the lady's blank, to be added at a later date?' she asked sweetly. She felt a spark of anger at his presumption, and welcomed the hot emotion; it was an easier thing to feel than the confusion that otherwise threatened to overwhelm her. ‘That would have been excessively convenient for your purposes.'

‘Wouldn't it? I don't believe it is, in fact. It seems a sad omission. Perhaps I shall raise the matter next time I speak in the Lords,' he replied with perfect composure. He was so calm, and that annoyed her further, perilously close to tears as she was. ‘I imagine it might prove extremely popular.'

‘I dare say it would. They are all men, are they not? But I am a woman, and I did not come here in the expectation of being married, so I will need clothes,' Georgie stated, refusing to succumb to his teasing and soften towards him. Did she even want to? She wasn't sure.

‘Are you quite positive you shall?' he shot back outrageously in a low tone meant for her ears only. She coloured, and glared at him once more, but he did not seem to be in the least abashed. A little silence grew between them, stretched. He knows, she thought, that he can always win me over; even now, if we were left alone, he'd reach out, touch me, and I would welcome it with pathetic eagerness… But the power of the physical pull between us is not in question. It's everything else that is so difficult.

‘We will be obliged to draw up marriage settlements without loss of time,' Lord Irlam ploughed on heroically. ‘I have a lawyer in York now – it's been useful, with all the tangled affairs of my wife's estate. I presume you do too, Northriding?'

‘Naturally,' said the Duke urbanely. ‘I have business all over the North. And call me Gabriel, please, as we are to be brothers. Perhaps we could repair there in a couple of days, and I am sure, Georgiana, you will be able to find anything you feel you require in the way of trousseau. You will all be welcome as my guests – I have a house hard by the Minster which is most convenient.'

Georgie could only nod and attempt a smile. She fell silent now as her future – hers – was discussed. She had no objection to raise. She'd said she'd marry him, hadn't she? It would be weak and childish, she thought with sudden piercing clarity, to blame others – Hal, Louisa, Gabriel himself – for this situation she found herself in, to say that she was being forced. She wasn't. She must admit that a part of her, not just her body that always yearned for him but perhaps also her heart, urgently wanted this. If only she weren't so frightened – of her own feelings, as much as anything else. And as for his feelings… She had every reason to know that he was obsessed with her. He'd convinced her of the truth of that. What she could not know was whether it could possibly be enough to base a life upon.

‘Oh, and call me Hal, naturally. Quite right. York races?' asked Hal with interest, though Georgie at least barely heard or heeded him.

‘Of course. Not at this time of year, sadly. Next month.' If the Duke felt any fraction of her inner turmoil, he did not show it.

‘Dashed nuisance, that. Could have combined the two things, you know.'

‘That's all very well,' objected Louisa, with a brief roll of the eyes at the propensity of men to be distracted by inessentials, ‘but must we all decamp to York then come back here again directly for the ceremony? It sounds most fatiguing and unnecessary. Could you not simply marry there, perhaps in the Minster itself?'

‘I am sure it could be arranged without too much trouble,' said the Duke of Northriding drily. ‘Many of my ancestors have married there in the past.'

‘My wife can travel down from Skipton, then, to be with us,' said Hal. ‘My brother Bastian is with her there, and will come too, I dare say. Make it a regular family affair, as is only proper, Gabriel. But I am not summoning the younger boys up from Hampshire. Well do I remember the chaos they caused in the days before my own wedding.'

‘Thank God,' said Louisa. ‘They are perfectly happy where they are, and Cousin Leo has charge of them and is – one hopes – keeping them out of trouble. If he can manage a ship full of rowdy sailors, presumably he can manage the three of them. Leave them be.'

Hal explained to his host, ‘My late mother's sister, Mrs Winterton, is with my three youngest brothers at our home in Hampshire. Her son is a captain in the navy, and has been teaching them sailing this summer, heaven help him. Yes, we can well do without them, believe me. You don't understand why yet, but you will soon enough, I promise you.'

‘I look forward to meeting them another time, of course,' His Grace said politely.

‘"Ignorance is bliss",' Louisa said darkly. ‘I recommend you put off that date as long as you are able. A year or so should do very well.'

‘I suppose,' said Hal suddenly, ‘that I should congratulate you both! Wish you very happy! Remiss of me not to, and forgive me for it, but the circumstances, you know…'

‘Indeed,' said the Duke with an admirably straight face, ‘it is perfectly understandable that you should forget. Thank you!'

Georgiana came out of her reverie with a start and murmured her thanks too, glad to have the conversation turn to less awkward matters. Upon discussion, in which again she took little part, it was thought sensible for the entire party to adjourn to York upon the following day, so that they could lose no time in setting about the various pieces of business that took them there.

The preparations for this hasty departure involved a great deal of bustle, and as a result Georgie saw very little of the Duke in the intervening hours, and they were not given any opportunity to be alone for the rest of the day. This rather unfortunately allowed her a great deal of time to brood upon her situation, but lessened her painful confusion not one jot, since there did not seem to be any conclusion that could usefully be reached, or if there were one, she did not reach it. As the day passed she became aware of a growing need, a compulsion almost, to be with him, to be held by him, even just to speak with him: a foretaste, she thought, and an unwelcome one, of what her future might so easily be, yearning for his company. She was in a sorry state, and chided herself for it. She knew he was busy, and she knew why; if nothing else, her pride would not allow her to seek him out. It was not until after dinner that they had the chance to exchange as much as two words, and that in public.

‘Does your house in York also have secret stairs and passages?' she said with unconscious wistfulness as he bent over her hand to bid her goodnight. Just at that moment Hal was deep in sporting conversation with Mr FitzHenry, and the ladies were engaged in a civil but intense discussion over the best places to shop for fashionable apparel in York; Miss FitzHenry was decidedly of one mind, and her mother quite another.

‘Naturally it has secret stairs and passages, as well as any number of priests' holes,' he said gravely. ‘No Mauleverer would ever consent to reside anywhere that did not. We had to have them specially installed at great expense in Grosvenor Square when we bought the house. And in York they did not serve just for romantic intrigues, important though they undoubtedly are, but for much darker purposes. Guy Fawkes was a connection of the family, you know, and on many occasions one or more of us was in imminent danger of ending up with our severed heads displayed on Micklegate Bar.'

She shuddered at the thought. ‘Such a rebellious history. Did your relatives go on to be Jacobites, then?' she asked curiously. She knew so very little about him, about his family, and this at least could easily be remedied, and might serve to calm her a little.

‘It is a reasonable question. My grandfather was of that party, I believe, though it has not been talked of much in the family. He managed to keep his head and his possessions through his father's influence, my great-grandfather fortunately still being alive at the time of the '45 rebellion. The Sixth Duke was a man of great address and pragmatism, while his son at that point was very young and foolish, and came close to losing everything through his romantic enthusiasms. But we learned our lesson, changed even our religion at last to conform with the times, and have been stout supporters of the Hanoverians ever since. Although that does violence to one's feelings sometimes, with Prinny at the helm. He is shockingly bad ton even by my standards, I am sure you must agree.'

She had strong opinions of her own on the subject, and would have like to prolong the discussion, to remain in his company, but Louisa swept her off to bed. Georgie supposed that there would be time enough in the future to talk of such matters – they would have a whole life together in which to do so. It was a strange idea, and hard to encompass in her mind. She thought she would not truly believe that she was indeed to marry Gabriel, as she must learn to call him, until she stood at the altar with him, or perhaps later…

They left the Castle early the next morning: two travelling carriages for the ladies and their abigails, Hal in his curricle, and the Duke driving his own sporting vehicle and team of famous greys. Louisa expressed the hope that they would not engage in a childish sort of a race, as men were prone to do, so foolishly competitive as they were, but as Miss Spry wisely said, if that was their inclination there was nothing any of the ladies could do to stop them. When the slower coaches arrived at the respectable inn where it had been agreed they would meet to take nuncheon, the gentlemen were found toasting each other amicably in tankards of ale; it seemed there had indeed been a race, and His Grace had won it. ‘I had perhaps an unfair advantage, as I know the roads so well,' he said with a deprecating smile. In some mysterious masculine fashion, the contest appeared to have cemented the bond between them, and the two men seemed to have resolved to be fast friends, despite the undeniably awkward circumstances of their meeting, which Hal at least seemed to be well on the way to forgetting.

After they had eaten, they set out again. The ladies' carriages kept pace with each other, and Lord Irlam slowed to stay with them, but Gabriel drove ahead to ensure that his house in Petergate would be ready to receive his family and guests.

It was late afternoon by the time the Pendleburys entered the city through the imposing turreted barrier of Monk Bar – Georgie craned her neck to look for severed heads, but not a one was to be seen – and made their slow way through the narrow, crowded streets to the Mauleverer mansion. The housekeeper and many of the indoor servants came to meet them, and Georgie could not help but blush, as she was well aware that they must know she was their master's intended bride, and as a result regarded her with a great deal of frank Yorkshire curiosity. Nobody was in any way discourteous, and she could not blame them for their interest; she supposed she would be obliged to accustom herself to it, as to so many things in her new life.

The house was quite large, though of course much smaller than the Castle, three red-brick storeys high, and of a symmetrical, modern appearance from outside, with an imposing stuccoed portico sheltering the door. Georgie knew from what Gabriel had said, however, that this classically regular fa?ade concealed a much older, partly medieval building, and had stables and other outbuildings not visible from the street, all of which had been extensively remodelled by the previous Duke and his favourite architect John Carr many years previously.

She was shown to a fine panelled bedchamber with its own private sitting room furnished in costly silks and precious carpets; she thought it was probably the Duchess's suite of rooms that had been prepared for her, so grand as it was, and she wondered if one of the doors led to where Gabriel slept. She dared not explore. The thought of him so close must set images moving in her head that made her blush and bite her lip even though she was alone: images of things they had done, pleasures they had tasted, and things they had not done, yet. She wondered too if the door would remain firmly closed, or whether her prospective husband would be impatient and think to anticipate their marriage vows. She was herself unsure whether she wanted to anticipate them or wait until convention called it decent – more than decent, necessary, vital, a matter of obligation rather than mere carnal desire. It seemed a foolish and arbitrary distinction: sin one day, duty the next. She also knew, more strongly with every passing day, that she sought more than sensual pleasure from his embraces, and that to have him here holding her would bring her a deeper comfort than simple physical release, and soothe, at least for a while, her roiling thoughts.

But that night, at least, she remained alone in the high four-poster bed. She lay in the darkness in her virginal nightgown and let her hands drift down her body as she thought of him, and despite all her fears and ever-present uncertainty she could not deny the treacherous little spark of excitement that had been kindled deep inside her when they first met, and that would flare to a flame with a word, a look from him. If he came to her now to claim her… But he did not, and she slid into sleep, to dream of him and wake unsatisfied.

Bastian, and Hal's wife Cassandra – tiny, red-haired and green-eyed – arrived from Skipton the next afternoon, much to her husband's delight; one would have thought, Louisa observed, that they had been separated for a month rather than a day or two. The succeeding week was a whirl of activity, which combined visits to dressmakers with the signing of legal documents, and much consultation with the officials of the Minster. As His Grace had slightly cynically predicted, these gentlemen were delighted to be asked to conduct the wedding of one of the senior noblemen of the North. There would be a choir, and all the ceremony of which the Church of England was capable at a few days' notice.

There was little opportunity to talk privately with her sister-in-law – when the gentlemen withdrew, Lady Blanche was always there, and her daughter, not to mention Louisa and Miss Spry, that lady only imperfectly concealing her impatience to return to London and advance her own affairs. Cassandra was accompanied by Kitty, who was both her own maid and Georgiana's former nurse, and Georgie had thought that one or both of them might take her aside and ask her how she felt about the enormous change that was about to overtake her life and set her on a new path. She was half-expecting to be questioned particularly on her feelings for the Duke, by Kitty if not by Cassandra, but rather curiously she encountered no such interrogation, and she was glad of it, for she had at this delicate moment no desire to examine her emotions more deeply than she was obliged to. The questions she anticipated never came, and in the bustle of preparations she did not have time to stop and ask herself why. What Hal said to Cassandra or even to Kitty in private, of course, she could not know.

Despite the Duke's words, Georgie could see no evidence of secret stairs and passages in the mansion in Petergate. The formal rooms at the front of the house, the dining and withdrawing rooms, all presented a modern appearance, consistent with the aspect it presented to the street, and apart from her bedchamber she had not yet penetrated to the family's private quarters. In any case, whether there were indeed passages or whether he had been teasing her, she received no nocturnal visits in those days before her wedding. Perhaps, she thought, he was constrained by considerations of propriety or merely of good taste, now that his family and a great part of hers were gathered together in such proximity, for the house was inevitably crowded with so many visitors. For a while she told herself that she was unsure if she wanted him to come to her in secret or not, and when upon reflection honesty compelled her to admit that she did want it, that she desperately missed being alone with him, missed his conversation just as much as his touch, she resolutely pushed away the idea, and refused to dwell on its implications. There was, she told herself, no need to brood over the matter. They would be married soon enough.

But still she lay awake each night for a while, waiting, thinking of him and wondering if he was thinking of her, lying just a few feet away in his own lonely bed. She wondered if his imagination was running riot, if his hands, too, sought a sweet release he would rather have gained from touching her, from her touching him… She tried very hard not to wonder if he might ever want more than that from her, if he were open to such feelings, or would even acknowledge them if they came. He'd known so many women intimately, or so she had heard, though she knew frustratingly little detail of his apparently scandalous past. All those women… Had he ever loved one of them? Been faithful, even for a while? Such thoughts were not conducive to restful sleep, she found.

There was little time for introspection or serious conversation with anyone in that hectic week, but one afternoon, when it happened for a wonder not to be raining and no appointments presented themselves for an hour or so, Georgiana's brother Bastian told her very firmly that she must put on her bonnet and pelisse and come out for a walk with him. They would explore the interesting ruins of St Mary's Abbey, he said; it would be a crime not to do so when they stood just a few hundred yards away from the house, and furthermore he expected that some air would do her good. She agreed that it would, and they set out, passing the glorious fa?ade of the Minster on their way, before anybody could stop them or find some urgent matter that required her instant attention.

They were a handsome pair, very alike, with the glossy black hair and shockingly bright blue eyes that characterised all the Pendleburys. They attracted a good deal of attention as they made their way towards the Abbey, and Georgiana was a little surprised to be greeted warmly, by name and title, by several persons of all ranks as they walked. She smiled at them all, and made the appropriate responses, but she did not stop.

When they had admired the impressive remains of walls, windows and doorways, and wandered under the ivy-covered arches for a while, Bastian said, ‘I am glad to have seen it, of course – Matthew told me I should on no account neglect to do so – but what I really wanted, Georgie, was an opportunity to talk with you alone.'

This could hardly be news to his sister, and she thought she knew what he was about to ask her. She supposed it was inevitable that someone would, after all, though she had not expected it to be Bastian. ‘Do you truly want to marry Northriding?' he said now, frowning. ‘Something my aunt said in passing the other evening made me think that Hal is in some sense forcing you, though I could scarcely believe it of him, and indeed he laughed the idea off as nonsense when I charged him with it. But I could not be easy in my mind until I had spoken to you and made sure. What in the devil's name is going on?'

‘I… It is complicated, Bastian. Hal is not forcing me, precisely. He did point out to me that I must marry Gabriel, that I owed it to him after my recent actions and their consequences, but in truth he was not telling me anything that I did not already know.'

‘My God, Georgie, are you with child? Has he?—?'

She cut him off, with a wry smile at the sudden recollection of Hal asking her the same question a year ago, during her entanglement with Captain Hart. It was not entirely flattering to be the object of such repeated enquiries; nor was it entirely unjust. She had not been quite so reckless, not quite, but she had come perilously close, and she feared that any self-control that had been exercised in recent days had been on the Duke's part and not hers. If he had come to her bed here in York, would she really have turned him away, or denied him anything? She knew the answer.

‘I am not with child, and I promise you he has done nothing to me against my will, nor has he hurt me or offended me in any way. But it is true that I am compromised – Gabriel and I were discovered in a highly awkward situation, by Louisa and Jane, and more to the point by others who do not wish me well, and he had no option then but to announce our engagement.'

‘That does not mean that you must go through with it,' Bastian said hotly. ‘I am surprised at Hal, and sadly disappointed in him too. I did not think he was a man to place the proprieties above his sister's happiness. You know he has never shown such petty concerns before. He has been nothing but understanding where my own situation is concerned, and has accepted Matthew without question, when not another brother in a hundred would have done so, but would instead have cast me out and forbidden mention of my name. Is it because you are a woman? Because if so, I am?—'

‘You do him an injustice,' Georgie said swiftly. ‘The matter is more complicated than you know. What has passed between Gabriel and me is only the half of it, though I know that for almost any other guardian it would be more than enough. It is not that at all, Basty. Gabriel is obliged to marry, to secure an heir now that his younger brother and his cousin are dead. The next heirs are quite ineligible, and the future of his estate and all its people depends on him siring a son. And through my foolishness I have made it almost impossible for him to win another bride of suitable birth and breeding.' She saw the doubt still lingering on his sweet, loving face and went on urgently, ‘You must see the truth of this. He announced our betrothal to half the noble families of the North at his family's grand ball; he had no option because of the compromising situation in which we were discovered. And if I jilted him now, what would people say? His reputation is bad enough without that. Hal says that in common decency I cannot do it to him, and he is quite right.'

‘He gained his bad reputation over many years, and quite without your help! And if you behaved improperly, so did he, and he is a man of great experience, and a good deal older than you! I do not like to see you made a sacrifice of, even if you have been foolish. We all do foolish things, but are not made to suffer such lifelong consequences for them.'

Georgie laughed. ‘Most people would stare to hear you say that marrying one of the most eligible men in the country made me a sacrifice of any kind.'

‘We are not most people! You have no need to marry for wealth and social standing, thank God, and when have we ever truly cared what people thought of us?'

‘Have you not been listening? It is not a matter of reputation, of what strangers think, but of taking responsibility for my own actions at last. I owe this to Gabriel, and as for compromising me, he had already asked me to marry him once before we were… surprised in each other's arms.'

‘And you refused him? And still he forced his attentions on you? Good God, Georgie, I begin to think his reputation is not near as bad as it should be!'

‘He forced nothing on me, Basty, I promise. He never has.' She sighed, and set out to spell out something of the true nature of her situation once more. ‘When we are alone together, we cannot seem to prevent ourselves from… from giving way to passion. It is a sort of madness that possesses both of us. So in the end it must be for the best that I marry him. If I am honest with myself, and I am trying very hard to be, I simply cannot endure that he marries another, even if someone suitable could indeed be found. I would suffer the fiercest torments of jealousy if he so much as glanced at another woman; I know, because I already have before we were betrothed, when he was obliged to court another because I had refused him. I hated it! And you must see that it would certainly be unwise for me to wed another man, when he has only to look at me and I lose all sense. I think, I fear, that if I married someone else, or he did, and if he came to me after and asked me to run away with him, I would go. No – speaking of it now, I know I would, without hesitation. And I am quite sure he feels the same. So if this, this spark that is between us is unique to us, and endures, very well. We may have a chance of happiness. If it is not, if it has revealed some defect in my character, then better I am married, I suppose, to a man who has no illusions about my nature, before some other worse disaster overtakes me. I only hope I can indeed give him the son he needs.'

‘You make no mention of love,' her brother said tentatively.

‘I do not, and nor does he. And I beg you will not, Sebastian. Seriously, please don't. I couldn't bear it.'

He took her hand, and squeezed it warmly. ‘I think I understand. When did life become so complicated, Georgie?'

‘When Papa and then Mama died, I think.'

‘You must be right. Oh, my dear, I wish I could help you. I hope…'

‘I know. Let us not talk of it any more. We should go back, for I am sure there must be a thousand things still to be done.'

Bastian was still troubled in his mind, but he accepted Georgie's evident wish to turn the subject, tucking her arm through his and leading her back towards the busy streets of the old city, and the uncertain future that awaited her.