Chapter Twenty-Four

G eorgiana was grateful that Crispin had finally joined them. He walked back with them too, allowing Olivia to return with his horse. Olivia had been speechless. Apparently, riding Mercury was an honor he granted to no one. After she sped off—skirts hitched up, straddling the horse, leaving Georgiana and Alice gaping—Crispin entertained them with a laughing description of the warrior’s welcome Jeremy received at his homecoming, so it was not too noticeable that Georgiana and Reginald scarcely spoke at all.

Lord Billings had already arrived by the time they returned. Georgiana and Alice scrambled to their chamber to wash their faces and change their clothes.

As Jeanette tied her ribbons, Alice asked, “Georgiana, did you and Reginald quarrel?”

“Quarrel?” she laughed stiffly. “Why would you think that?”

Alice shrugged. “You both seemed a bit peeved.”

“No. We did not quarrel. I suppose we simply ran out of conversation.”

“Maybe he’s just tired of being in company all the time. Olivia says he’s not very sociable.”

“Why were you discussing Reginald with Olivia?” She felt a twinge of irritation.

“Her brothers are her favorite topic of conversation.” Alice spoke teasingly, but not without a touch of wistfulness.

Georgiana didn’t want to discuss the Taverstons anymore. The coup de grace would be Alice confiding an interest in Reginald.

“ Voilà ,” Jeanette said. “You are both presentable.”

“Very good, thank you,” Georgiana said, then tentatively shared a smile with Alice. “That walk made me hungry. I hope I don’t astonish Lord Billings with my appetite.”

Alice giggled. “I’m sure he’ll be too puzzled by what Crispin doesn’t eat to notice what you do.”

They went down. The men were waiting in the drawing room, all except Crispin, who would be joining the Earl and the Countess instead. Georgiana and Alice exchanged glances but were not so rude as to laugh.

Mama had arranged the seating, placing Georgiana between Jasper and Lord Billings. Georgiana liked Lord Billings even though he had a high opinion of himself and tended to dominate conversations. He talked over Jasper with the condescension of an old dog batting aside a pup. For the most part, Jasper took this in stride, but when Billings tried insisting he would pay just a short visit to the Earl after dinner, because “surely a visit would do the old fellow good,” Jasper answered with a firm no. “The Earl must not be disturbed.”

Lord Billings appeared put out, but only for a moment. Then he returned to telling them what they were missing in London. “And the first official match of the Season has been announced: Lord Dunstun and Miss Blakemore.” He paused, smiling with satisfaction at the sly way he had delivered the word “official.” Georgiana felt a blush rise on her neck. Was everyone in London awaiting an announcement from Chaumbers?

Mama responded, “How delightful. I’m sure they will be very happy. Lord Billings, have you seen the Duke recently? He had a cough when we left and although he assures me it is gone, he would, of course, say that.”

“I did see him at White’s. He wasn’t coughing. However, he was drinking some sort of toddy.” Lord Billings laughed. “But don’t worry. He looked very hearty.”

He rattled on. Georgiana relaxed and began to enjoy his various bits of unimportant news. As the dessert course was being served, Crispin entered the room. He sat down next to Olivia but waved aside the servant who offered him macaroons.

“Father is sleeping,” he said, tactfully assuring his brothers there had been no change. “Mother suggested I come down.”

Lord Billings paused for breath during the interruption but then turned to focus on Georgiana.

“And you, dear lady! I remember you with your hair down in ribbons. Now look at you. Good show! Though I daresay you left a trail of brokenhearted swains behind in London!”

Then he chucked her under the chin and, over her head, winked broadly at Jasper.

Georgiana reeled back, aghast, but knew of no appropriate response to something so vulgar. Jasper went rigid. She dared not look across the table to see Reginald’s reaction, but slanting her gaze to his left, she saw Crispin’s expression darken.

Mama rescued her once again. Her tone was sharp. “I believe Lord Taverston has an entertainment planned. Why don’t you all gather again outside?” She stood, which meant the men all had to rise at once, putting an abrupt end to the meal.

Lord Billings looked startled, then puzzled, then embarrassed, all in the space of a few seconds. But he recovered enough to offer Georgiana his arm. He led her from the dining room. Georgiana tossed a glance behind her to see Alice and Olivia following, but the lords of Iversley had clustered together to exchange a few words. Whatever they had to say to one another did not take long.

Jasper came quickly forward, giving instructions to various servants. The party waited inside until a footman returned and murmured something to him. Then Jasper herded them outdoors.

A shooting range had been established on the front lawn. There were several wafers, bold circles painted on paper, wrapped around metal frames that had been hammered into the ground. They stood three in a row, with the rows placed about thirty to fifty paces away. There was a breeze, enough to set the targets rippling. Chairs were lined up at the edge of the drive for the ladies who would spectate. Servants stood at the ready with pistol boxes.

“Will you shoot first, Lord Billings?” Jasper asked. “Would you like to use the Earl’s guns or your own?”

“Never use any but my own,” Billings said. “And please. You do the honors.”

Jasper nodded. “Very well. I will be using the Earl’s.”

Georgiana watched him take a pistol from a box, then move to a line that had been chalked on the grass. He aimed for the nearest target and blew a hole through it.

“Oh, very good!” Billings said. “You have been practicing.”

Jasper nodded, teeth gritted. “I have.”

Billings turned. “Lieutenant Taverston, you must be next.”

Crispin smiled coolly. “I will not be shooting. As an officer of the King’s Army, I should have unfair advantage. And, if I do not, I should not like anyone to know.”

Billings laughed. He looked to Reginald. “You, young sir?”

“After you.”

Billings cupped the second wafer. Then Reginald cupped the next. They moved to the second set of targets, a little farther away. Jasper missed. Billings hit his, but there was the distinct sound of metal being pinged and the frame tilted.

Billings frowned. “Not very clean, was it? But a hit is a hit.”

“It was a hit,” Jasper agreed.

Reginald said nothing. He stepped to the line, held up his gun, then lowered it.

“It is a bit out of the usual range,” Billings said, with more than a hint of condescension.

“No, it’s fine,” Reginald said. He took his spectacles from his pocket and donned them. Then he took aim and fired, tearing a hole through the middle of the target.

Billings looked disturbed. “Very nice.”

“I’m out,” Jasper said. “The next is too far. They should not have set them that far. Shall we call it quits or have them brought closer?”

“Nonsense,” Billings said, clenching his jaw.

He stepped to the line, aimed, and missed. He moved aside. Reginald took his place. He hit it clean.

“Bit of luck there,” Billings said with forced humor. “Once more?”

Georgiana felt nastily pleased to watch him struggle. Billings missed again. Reginald, after tapping his spectacles into place, did not.

“Let’s move our lines up ten paces or so and shoot from closer,” Jasper suggested. “The targets should not have been placed so far. Not in this wind.”

“No!” Billings thundered. “I’m just now warmed up. I’ll take my shot.”

He missed.

Reginald stepped to the line, but Crispin stopped him. “Let Lord Billings try again.” He said it in a tone so gentle it was cutting.

Furious now, Lord Billings came back to the line while Reginald was still moving aside. He glared at the target and took a long time to steady his gun. He fired. The wafer split along its side. A hit—but barely.

The contestants stood silent, but Olivia applauded and shouted, “Oh, very good!” capping the Taverstons’ triumph by perfectly miming Billings’ patronizing tone.

Billings stomped over to where his man waited and shoved his pistol back into its box. There was a moment of awkwardness. Georgiana could no longer feel angry with him. He seemed rather to be pitied. A man would not wish to find himself with the Taverston siblings arrayed against him.

Jasper went to him and said, “The wind has picked up. It’s not worth the bother to reset the wafers. Why don’t we go have a brandy and discuss this bill you sent me?”

*

Perhaps it had been a childish sort of vengeance, embarrassing him as he had embarrassed her, but Georgiana now understood the satisfaction such pranks afforded the Taverstons. After all, no one was hurt. Jasper would smooth things over with brandy. But they had put Billings in his place.

Reginald had put Billings in his place.

When they went inside, Jasper took Lord Billings off to his study. Reginald and Olivia went upstairs to sit with the Earl. Crispin announced he was going to the music room to learn a new piece, so he’d appreciate it if everyone else avoided that wing of the house.

Georgiana flinched inwardly, thinking he must be speaking to her, warning her out of the library. But by the way, the others laughed and groaned, it seemed it was not an uncommon request—his talent was not effortless, for all he might like it to appear so. Besides, he couldn’t know how much time she had been spending there. Moreover, she would not be going there now, or ever again. Instead, she followed Alice back to their chamber because it had been a strenuous morning and, after such, ladies were supposed to rest.

The list of what ladies were supposed to do was exhaustive.

The list of what they could not do was infinite.

*

The Earl awakened briefly but remained in some sort of delirium. He took a bit of broth from Mother’s spoon and a few sips of tea laden with honey and rum from the cup she held to his lips, then murmured a thank you, calling Mother “Lucy.” After that, he lapsed back into a sleep racked with alternating shivers and sweats.

“Lucy?” Olivia whispered. “Who is that? He called me that once before.”

Mother sighed. She looked terribly weary. “I believe his nursemaid, when he was very young, was called Lucy.”

That wasn’t right. Reginald remembered stories. “Wasn’t that Lilian?”

“What does it matter, Reginald? Maybe there were two.” She sounded snappish. Of course, she did. It was an annoying habit of his to seize on details that no one else considered important.

He sat, watching his father suffer, then staring at the window, then watching his father. All the while, he attempted to put thoughts of Georgiana out of his head. It didn’t seem possible for him to have felt so many intense emotions in one day. And the day was but half over. Bloody hell. Now he felt drained.

At one point, he heard a carriage in the drive and went to the window to watch Lord Billings depart. He felt a little guilty for his part. The man was a blowhard, but generally harmless. He wouldn’t have intentionally insulted Georgiana. The devil. If Billings had been correct in his assumption that Jasper had already secured Georgiana’s hand, they would have more readily excused his choice of words and the crass wink. But Jasper had not.

And Jasper had been livid. Livid. If he had not been, he would never have humiliated a guest in his home. He certainly would not have enlisted Reginald’s help to do so.

Seeing Jasper so livid was concerning.

Reginald returned to his chair, flexing his fingers, then tapping his feet, then staring, bleary-eyed, at his father. The room was beginning to darken when Mother started in her chair and looked quickly about. “Oh. I think I fell asleep.”

“You should go to bed, Mama. I’ll stay,” Olivia urged.

“No, I’m awake now.”

There was a rap on the door and Crispin entered. He focused on Mother and spoke very low. “How is he?”

“Still sleeping.”

Crispin let out a long sigh. “If you’ll excuse us, I need to borrow Reginald for a while. Jasper needs to speak with us.”

“Of course. There’s no need for us all to sit here. I’ll send for you all if there’s any change.”

Reginald stood, feeling guiltily relieved for an excuse to escape the sickroom, and frightened by what Jasper might have to say. He hoped Billings’ nudge had not led Jasper to rush his proposal. He left the room with Crispin. As they departed the west wing, Crispin headed for the main staircase.

“Where are we going? Not Jasper’s study?”

“No. Jasper has not sent for us. I sent for him. And for Georgiana. We’ll be congregating in the library.”

Reginald stopped dead and grabbed his brother’s arm. “What have you done? What did you tell Jasper?”

Crispin lifted away Reginald’s hand. “Nothing. And nothing yet.”

“Then why the library?”

“Because that is where I’ve been for the past two hours. I need to know what Georgiana found because…well, because I could not discover it.” Damn it! Crispin meant to interrogate her. And in front of a witness. “Why bring Jasper into this?”

“Because he’ll be the Earl. And we’ll have to abide by what he decides to do.”

“Do about what ?” Crispin said he hadn’t discovered anything! Oh, hell. Even if he knew nothing, he obviously suspected something. And the probability was high that it had to do with the same financial shenanigans Georgiana had been investigating. Crispin’s digging risked exposing the family and Georgiana!

Crispin drew an irritated breath. “I need to know first that I’m right.” He let the breath out with a resigned-sounding sigh. “I hope I’m not. God, I hope I’m not. If I’m wrong, I’ll intercept Jasper and give you a chance to speak with Georgiana alone.”

Reginald gave up. He was powerless to stop whatever Crispin had just set in motion.

“Do not embarrass her, Crispin. Don’t press her. If she does tell you anything, don’t ask her to explain how she knows.”

Crispin looked at him oddly. “What is going on?”

“Just don’t make this about her.”

“The deuce, Reg! What is it? Witchcraft?”

“Don’t be an arse.”

“Well, don’t be a pigwidgeon. I don’t care how she knows. I just want to see what she knows. Now, come on. Unless you want Jasper to get there before us and embarrass her with a proposal.”

Bloody hell! Reginald hurried down the stairs, terrified and furious, swearing at Crispin the whole time.

They met Georgiana at the foot of the stairway leading from the guest chambers. She looked worriedly from Reginald to Crispin. “Is it your father?”

“No,” Reginald said. “His condition is unchanged.”

Then she paled. Her eyes grew huge as she continued to search Reginald’s face for an explanation. He wanted to flatten Crispin, but even Crispin appeared disturbed by the magnitude of her fear.

“Georgiana,” Crispin spoke very quietly. “Please, let’s go to the library. I want to show you something and ask you something.”

“No. No, I don’t think you do,” she said, shaking her head as she lowered it.

“If you’d prefer,” Crispin said, taking her hand and raising it toward his chest, drawing her gaze back to his face, “we can leave Reg here, and he can keep Jasper away.”

“Jasper’s coming too?” Now she swiveled her gaze back and forth between them, chin trembling. “This is wrong. I can’t.”

“He won’t be here for another fifteen minutes at least. Georgiana, would you rather speak with me alone?”

“The devil, Crispin!” Reginald swore. “Not alone. I won’t let you bully her.”

Crispin said, “Georgiana?”

“Oh, all right!” she cried. “Reginald, you may as well come too.” She ground out through clenched teeth, “I cannot believe you told him.”

“I didn’t. Georgiana, I didn’t say anything. And he is not going to interrogate you or, by God, I’ll—”

“Yes, that’s enough,” Crispin said, grabbing him and Georgiana each by their elbows to steer them to the library. He nudged the door open with his foot, pulled them inside, and shut the door with a gentle kick. While they huddled close to the exit, Crispin let go of their arms and strode to the desk to pick up a stack of ledgers that he then brought to the nearest corner table. He dropped them on its surface and gestured to the leather chair. “Sit,” he ordered in a way that reminded Reginald that his annoying brother was now an officer in the King’s Army—and no doubt a very effective one.

Georgiana sat. Crispin knelt on the floor in front of her, picked up a ledger, and opened it to a page marked with a slip of paper. Reginald came to stand next to the chair, peering down at the book in Crispin’s hand.

“This is odd. Don’t you think?” Crispin set the open book on Georgiana’s knee, then opened another and displayed that also.

Georgiana glanced down, then back at Crispin. “Yes,” she admitted. “I thought so.”

“What?” Reginald asked.

“Your Cambridge tuition is twice that of Oxford’s,” Crispin said.

He started and leaned to look at the figure. That made no sense. “That can’t be—”

“Wait,” Crispin said. He removed those ledgers, set them on the floor, then opened four more and stacked them, open, on Georgiana’s lap. “Did you notice this as well?” He shuffled the books, pointing at something. Reginald tried to see what he indicated, but Crispin moved the ledger too quickly.

But Georgiana had seen it. She exhaled, closed her eyes, her expression pained, and nodded. “I could not make sense of that. I didn’t…have time.” Her voice was small.

“To correlate all the changes in tuition costs at Harrow with the irregular salaries for tutors? I’ll help. Look. I had to leave school here .”

She opened her eyes and then nodded. He flipped to another book. “And here. Father hired tutors for me for six months first, and then for a year.”

Georgiana’s eyes widened. Reginald recognized the look that came into them. Excited. Challenged. He felt a warm rush of communion . However strong her fear of violating society’s norms, it was evidently no match for her drive to pursue her passion—just as he was driven to abandon a perfectly respectable profession as a clergyman to translate long-lost Greek philosophies. She pulled the book from Crispin’s hand and scanned it. “Give me the other again.”

He handed her the ledger and she scanned that too. Then she looked at the pile on the table beside Crispin and pointed to the spine of one. They were marked by year. Crispin passed it to her. She turned several pages rapidly, then paused, then looked up at Crispin and nodded.

“What?” Reginald said. What did they see that he didn’t?

“Your Harrow tuition was also about twice the cost of mine and Jasper’s.”

“That’s nonsense. Why would it be?”

“Because he was sponsoring another student,” Crispin said. “And Bradwell was hiding it.” He was still looking at Georgiana rather than Reginald. Then he asked, “Do you know what I am asking? Do you have proof?”

“Of the student?” Georgiana asked.

Crispin shook his head. “I know who he was. And frankly, his mother does not interest me. But his father?”

Georgiana tightened her grip on the books, then nodded.

“The Earl?” Reginald said. Loudly. Too loudly . “You can’t mean the Earl. Our father? Crispin! You’re saying he had a son? Another son? I don’t believe you. That isn’t true. That can’t be true. He may have sponsored a boy’s education, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

Crispin asked quietly, “Have you proof? In case Jasper wants proof.”

“Bloody hell!” Reginald shouted. His entire world was crashing down on his head. “I want proof!”

Georgiana answered Crispin in a soft voice, but one that was matter-of-fact, without any polite ladylike apology. “It isn’t proof. It’s conjecture.”

Reginald saw how Crispin had not once removed his focus from Georgiana. While he had been having quite reasonable-under-the-circumstances fits, Crispin had maintained a steady, calm demeanor while coaxing her along. By God . Reginald could picture him cooly organizing his regiment while under fire—and just as cooly sending his men to their deaths.

“Will you show me?” Crispin asked, with an almost soothing deference. “Only if Reginald wishes it too.” A tiny bit of steel entered her tone. She would not allow Crispin to lead her like a lamb to the slaughter.

Crispin looked at him. “Reg?”

No. This could not hinge upon him. It was not his role to decide the fate of the Taverstons, to destroy their belief in the rightness of their familial bonds. I don’t know why you are digging—”

“Because he’s our brother.”

“Who?” For God’s sake! Who?

“Tibury, goddamnit! He’s our brother, and we never knew it, and he never knew us! Except that we are ‘the lords of Iversley’ and he is not. And we have all this! And Olivia. And each other! And he gets the worst of the two benefices and has to thank Father, then slink out while we are all gathered to support each other through a deathbed vigil. Can you live with that? Can you? Because I cannot!”

Reginald stared. His mind was a scramble. All he could manage was, “Tibury?”

“I read the recommendations. He’s a good man, our brother. But it wasn’t simply that his friends were putting him forward. Father had evidently written first . He must have asked the rector, asked the elders, asked Tibury’s ordination examiners—he wanted to know. He wanted to know more about his son than he did.” Crispin put his face in his hands, then shook his head and murmured, “At least he must have been proud of him, from what he read.”

“‘I’ve good boys. All of them,’” Reginald said, remembering. He swallowed hard. His head swam. “Father said that the other day. I thought he meant us .”

Crispin laughed hoarsely. “I don’t think Reg or I need any more proof,” he told Georgiana. “But Jasper might. He’s not going to do anything that will upset Mother. Not that I would wish to. Especially not now. But I want to reach out to Tibury. I have to.”

“Because it is one of those conversations that you live for?” Reginald realized aloud.

Crispin sniffed. “Yes. Exactly.”

Reginald said, “The proof that Jasper may need is that there are about one hundred and twenty pounds missing, unaccounted for, every year since…” He looked to Georgiana.

“Since the Earl married Lady Iversley.” Georgiana bit her lip. “Before that, it was accounted for. Buried in with the servants’ salaries. After the marriage, the expenses were hidden, but they are there.”

“Expenses?” Crispin asked.

“I don’t know how it works.” Georgiana blushed. “Thirty pounds a quarter, fairly regular gifts each spring, small amounts here and there. And the tuitions.”

“He may not have been visiting her—whoever she was—the entire time,” Reginald said as a thought struck him. “He may have given her a pension.”

“It may have been on again, off again,” Crispin said dryly. “But the sad fact remains that you and Tibury are nearly the same age. There is a slight family resemblance. I’d wager Tibury got sent to Eton to be certain your paths never crossed.”

“And that was why Father agreed so readily to Cambridge for me. He could send Tibury to Oxford like a true Taverston.” Reginald felt hollowed out but forced himself to laugh.

Georgiana stood up abruptly. The ledgers fell from her lap to the floor.

“How can you laugh? Are all men…are all Taverston men…so wicked? So heartless? Have you all mistresses? Children that you won’t acknowledge? That your wives will have to pretend don’t exist? Is this funny to you?” Her voice cracked. Reginald was horrified by the way she fled from them, pushing past Crispin to reach the library door. There she collided with Jasper, who stood in the doorway, wooden-faced. Reginald had no idea how long he had been standing there.

“I won’t marry you!” Georgiana said, shoving Jasper aside. “Don’t you dare ask for me! Don’t you dare!”

She ran out. Her footsteps faded down the hall.

Crispin said, “Jasp? How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

“Will you permit me to reach out to Tibury?”

“What do we say to Mother?”

“Merely that we know.” Crispin stood. Then he threw up his hands. “She knows, Jasper. Mother is no fool. I’m convinced she knows.”

“God,” Jasper said. “What a bloody mess. Yes, I should think Mother knows. And once she is no longer protecting us, she’ll probably insist that reaching out to Tibury is the decent thing to do. Mother is a rock. But how the devil did Georgiana become involved? How am I to continue to court her when she’s disgusted with us?”

Reginald tensed, but Crispin said, “I don’t think that’s the important question.”

“Then what is?”

“What do you intend to do about Vanessa? Or is this to be an intergenerational curse?”

Jasper slammed his hand against the wall before he turned and walked out.

Crispin and Reginald stood a few moments in silence. Reginald could not absorb all of what had just occurred. All he knew was that he hurt. Everything he had ever believed about his father was a lie. And worse, their family’s dirty truths had been vomited out before the woman he loved. For God’s sake—the woman he loved had uncovered them!

Worst of all, Jasper evidently still meant to pursue her.

Crispin bent to pick up the ledgers, stacked them on his arm, and carted them back to the desk. He set them down and stared at them for a moment. Then he looked up.

“She was tallying it all in her head. And not just what I pointed to, but things she remembered. She calculated the Harrow tuitions and my tutors and the difference—my God, I could see it in her eyes. The numbers clicked instantaneously.”

Reginald said nothing. There was nothing he could say.

Crispin shook his head. “If you don’t marry her, Reg, I wash my hands of you.”