Page 15 of A Scarred Wallflower for the Duke
Something did not feel right about this. For days, Lydia had done nothing but speak of the Baron’s love for her. And now he had appeared on their doorstep wishing to court her sister?
Still, Jane knew all too well what Lydia was like. The child was flighty and irrational—there was every chance she had misconstrued some fleeting attention from Renshaw as a declaration of love. And if that was the case, perhaps the Baron’s courting Georgina would be the best thing for everyone. If nothing else, it would at least show Lydia there was no place for love when it came to marriage within theton.
The sooner she learns that, the better.
Could this courtship truly result in marriage for her eldest granddaughter? Jane had never allowed herself to hope for such a thing. And she knew Georgina had long ago resigned herself to spinsterhood.
The poor child. What greater curse is there for a lady of the ton than to be as damaged as she is?Five-and-twenty years ago, Jane had been present at Georgina’s birth; a dreadfully traumatic event. The Viscountess’s screams had echoed through the hallways of Thomson House for hours. When death had taken her, it had almost felt like a mercy.
No one dared to imagine the child would live. When the girl had been wrenched from her mother’s body, Jane had been sure it would only be a matter of moments before death took her too.
And of all things, thatwouldhave been a mercy, because the infant’s face and arms were so torn and bloodied from the ordeal that Jane knew it would leave scars that would never heal. Such an affliction would have been bad enough had the child been a boy, but a girl… How could she ever hope to experience any kind of happiness amongst theton, with so much damage done to her appearance? But the child had more strength in her than Jane had imagined. She had not succumbed to death but was wailing desperately against her mother’s lifeless body, in clear distress and pain. Jane bundled her up in blankets and rushed from the house.
This was for the best, she told herself. She was doing the child a favor. Saving her from a life of scrutiny and shame, and unashamed stares. And she was saving her son, the Viscount, the pain of raising a scarred and broken daughter.
She found a knot of small trees a little way from the river. Tucked the infant into the undergrowth. Her cries had lessened a little now, and Jane knew it would only be a matter of time before nature took its course.
Regret squeezed her chest. She had so been looking forward to becoming a grandmother. And she knew her son had been overjoyed at the prospect of being a father. For life to have handed them this terrible blow felt almost unbearably cruel. For a moment, she faltered. Looked back toward the bushes where she had left the infant.
No, this is for the best. It is the kindest thing for everyone. Especially the poor child. What kind of life can she possibly have ahead of her?
She turned for the house without looking back. She would tell her son that the child had not survived. She would tell him it was best for him that he not see the body, as it was so horribly damaged. It would not be such a difficult lie to tell. After all, it was not so far from the truth. But when she walked up the front steps of the house, she found her son waiting for her at the front door. His eyes were red and swollen with tears, but there was a fire in them like Jane had never seen. A burning rage directed squarely at her.
“How dare you?”he said. His voice was thin, trembling, as though any second, his fury might tear itself free.“How could you do such a thing to your own granddaughter?”
It turned out that Jane had not been as discreet as she had hoped when disposing of the child. The Baron of Overton’s daughter and her lady’s maid had seen her passing with the child in her arms, while out on their afternoon stroll. They had watched Jane tuck the bundle into the bushes. The moment she had left, they had rushed to rescue the infant.
“I shudder to think what would have happened had the Baron’s daughter not recognized you,”her son said.“Thank the Lord they knew to return my daughter to Thomson House where she belongs!”
Jane paused in disbelief.“The child is alive?”
“Yes,”her son snapped.“Apart from her injuries, she is strong and healthy. Not that you will ever lay eyes on her again.”
“I did what I thought was best for the child,”she said, wiping her eyes.“How can she ever hope to have a normal life? Just think of the damage her birth has inflicted on her.”
The Viscount clenched his jaw so hard it shook, clearly unmoved by his mother’s regret.“Her name is Georgina. And I will see to it that she has nothing but a life of happiness. A life without you in it.”His knuckles whitened around the doorframe.“You are no longer welcome in my house, Mother. You are not welcome in our lives.”He closed the door before she had a chance to protest.
When her son passed away five years ago, Jane knew it was her chance to find her way back into her grandchildren’s lives. The three were young orphans now, and they needed someone to guide them, to help them make the right choices. And Jane knew that this person was her. Perhaps helping her grandchildren navigate theton, and securing their futures, would go some way to making up for the dreadful mistake she had made, the day she had left Georgina to die.
Perhaps it might bring her a scrap of absolution.
She could only pray the children knew nothing of what she had done that day. Thankfully, none of them had ever spoken of it, and Jane felt certain that her son had kept the incident to himself.
What was it that had drawn the Baron of Renshaw to her so? Perhaps it was his belief that his low rank could secure him a no better match. Or perhaps there was something more at play here. Georgina had surprised everyone once by surviving the trauma of her birth. Jane knew well she had it in her to surprise everyone again.
ChapterNine
This afternoon with Miss Lydia had just got far more interesting.
When he had made his way to Thomson House that morning, Vincent had been merely hoping for another glimpse of Georgina. He had not dared hope for this.
“Lord Renshaw and my sister will be accompanying us to the park today,” Lydia had told him sweetly. “I do hope that is all right.”
Vincent had done his best to hide his surprise. Georgina Wyatt had a suitor? She had said nothing of it to him when they had met at Thomson House a few days ago. Then again, why would she?
More to the point, why did that piece of knowledge rankle him so much? In any case, here they were, the four of them rattling along in the carriage, with two lady’s maids tucked into the corners. Bright sunlight was searing through the windows.
Vincent had dutifully sat beside Lydia; a position, he was glad to discover, that put him in close proximity to her sister. Georgina was doing her best not to look at him, but Vincent could tell she could feel his eyes on her. He did not miss the fleeting glances she shot his way, before hurriedly looking back out the window.
