Page 61 of Much Ado about a Widow

As Georgie headed for the door to shut it, she met Rob’s gaze in the uncertain light. The longing in his face exactly matched the longing in her heart. She sighed and gave him a small smile that he returned before he vanished into the dark corridor.

They had to wait this time. But not for very much longer.

Chapter Twenty

“I believe I could have slept the clock around after last night’s excitements. Would you pass me the strawberry jam, Elizabeth?” Slathering butter on a piece of toast, Georgie looked expectantly at Elizabeth.

“Why didn’t you, my dear? You certainly deserved to keep to your bed much later than this.” Elizabeth handed her the pretty-cut crystal jelly dish, fashioned like a shell.

“I really had thought I wouldn’t awaken until well after noon, since I don’t believe my eyes closed again until almost dawn.” Even then she’d fallen into a fitful sleep, starting up at imagined noises until exhaustion had claimed her for a little while. “However, I found myself awake and alert at eight o’clock, my stomach very noisily demanding food. So I rang for Clara, and here I am.”

“You should rest today, my dear. Gather your strength for the coming journey.”

Eying her half-eaten toast, and imagining the rough seas ahead, Georgie slid the bread and jam back onto her plate. She needed to find a way to distract herself from thinking about their voyage. At least at mealtimes. “Perhaps I shall nap this afternoon. I do want to speak to Rob, but I’ve not seen him this morning.”

“My son is currently in the kitchen questioning the servants about some intruder who appears to have accosted you last night, Lady Georgina.” Lady St. Just sailed into the breakfast room in a swirl of cerulean-blue silk. “Good morning, ladies.”

“Good morning, Lady St. Just.”

“Good morning, my lady.”

“As I predicted, we shall not be in need of any other type of excitement now that Lady Georgina has come to stay.” The lady sat at the end of the long table nearest Georgie and Elizabeth. “I trust you were not injured in any way, my dear. Rob assures me you acquitted yourself rather handily in thwarting the villain.” Nestling a napkin in her lap, Lady St. Just apparently ignored the strangled expression on Elizabeth’s face and Georgie’s choked-back laugh.

When she could compose herself, Georgie reached for her abandoned eggcup and tapped smartly on the shell. Appetite restored. Lady St. Just would provide a wonderful distraction. “Thank you, my lady. I believe I did go a far way toward helping with his apprehension.” She looked up from her methodical cracking of her egg. “I fear I did use some unorthodox weaponry, so in the process one of your chamber pots was destroyed. I don’t know if your son mentioned it or not.”

The marchioness stirred her tea, round and round, her eyes mere slits. “He did not. One raises one’s children to be forthcoming; however, I warn you, Lady Georgina, that does not mean you always reap what you sow. When Robin returns from the kitchen, I shall speak to him about the chamber pot without delay.”

Good Lord. The last thing Georgie had meant to do was to get Rob in the suds. She hit the egg a glancing blow that took the top clean off. It sailed across the table, onto Elizabeth’s plate.

Wide blue eyes met hers. The utter shock on Elizabeth’s face only made it worse.

Georgie bit her lip trying to smother the laugh that would not be stopped. She whooped, laughing so long and so loudly that tears came to her eyes. When finally she calmed enough to gasp in a breath, the laughter continued, not only from Elizabeth, but also from the marchioness herself. Georgie looked up in astonishment.

“Oh, my dear. I see you prefer golf to tennis then. Well played, indeed.” Lady St. Just touched the napkin to the sides of her eyes. “No wonder my son is enchanted with you. You would have the Prince Regent himself in an apoplexy.”

“Who is having an apoplexy, Mamma?” Rob strode into the breakfast room on the tail end of his mother’s comment. Looking about the room as if expecting to see someone prostrate, he frowned. “What is going on?”

That sent them all into another peal of laughter, Georgie holding her sides as her eyes streamed. “My dear, you have come at the exact worst time to get any sense out of us.” Breathing hard to stop her giggles, which then brought on a fit of hiccoughs, she stared fixedly at Rob and held her breath. This often worked when she got the dratted nuisance.

Still frowning, Rob sat down beside her and laid his napkin in his lap. “I do not see what is so funny about having an apoplexy.”

They burst out again, laughing even harder. Poor Rob. He must think himself the butt of the jest. Now he was sitting back, eying her coldly, his arms tightly crossed over his chest. “Georgina, please tell me what is going on. I have news about Travers, and here you sit, laughing like lunatics.” He trained his stare on his mother. “Even you, Mamma. I am surprised.”

“Do not be, Robin. I still have a sense of humor, despite my decrepit appearance.”

The marchioness was an extremely handsome woman, scarcely touched by age, save a tinge of silver in her dark hair. Neither could her face or skin give away her years. Rob, of course, must have heard this all before.

“If you looked any younger or lovelier, Mamma, the villagers would suspect you of witchcraft or perhaps assume you had found a fountain of youth somewhere in the smugglers’ tunnel.” He managed to shake off his brief fit of pique and smiled at them. “Good morning, ladies. Please forgive my lack of greeting earlier, but I was so completely startled by your conversation, which I still do not understand, that I neglected to give you my greeting. Please accept it now.”

“Good morning, my lord.” Elizabeth had sobered quicker than the other ladies.

“Good morning, Robin.” His mother’s glance was sterner. Perhaps she was about to inquire about the dratted chamber pot he hadn’t mentioned.

Taking matters into her own hands before things could get any more out of hand, Georgie smiled brightly at him and grasped his arm. “Good morning, my dear. We have been conversing about a great many very interesting things this morning.” She cast her mind back, trying to retrieve anything that did not hint at their hilarity. “Such as golf.”

Elizabeth sputtered and dropped her napkin over the incriminating bit of egg.

“Why, my love? Do you play?”