Secrets of a Spinster (18 page)

“Hello, Geoff?”

“He is looking a bit peaky, isn’t he?”

“You look peaky, Colin.”

“Shut up, Derek.”

“Geoff!”

“What?” he asked suddenly, shaking himself out of his stupor.

His friends all stared at him in confusion.

“What?” he asked once more.

“We have been trying to talk to you for nearly five minutes,” Derek said with a rise in one very ducal brow.

“Thought you had off and left us for the next world,” Colin offered as he sat back in his chair, sending it to the back legs.

 “Aside from the fact that he is still breathing,” Duncan said with a roll of his eyes. He looked back to Geoff. “Where are you at the moment, anyway?”

“Probably back in my bed,” he admitted with a heavy exhale.

Colin grinned, as only Colin would.

“Mind out of the gutter,” he growled to Colin, who only shrugged. Geoff turned back to Duncan and Derek. “I slept horribly. Had this dream…”

Again came Colin’s grin.

Duncan cuffed Colin on the back of the head, sending his chair crashing back down on all four legs.

“Go on,” Derek said as if nothing had happened.

Geoff quickly recounted everything he could about the dream, and found himself unable to infuse the story with the same depth of panic and emotion he had felt. As a result, the whole thing came out sounding wholly pathetic.

He looked up at them with a slight wince when he finished. Derek and Duncan looked confused, and Colin pretended to be asleep.

“That’s it?” Derek asked finally.

“Why wasn’t I there?” Duncan asked, wearing a puzzled expression.

Colin let out a particularly loud snore.

“I can’t explain it,” Geoff told them in frustration, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Obviously,” the sleeping Colin said.

Geoff gave him a look that he would not see. “It was the most panicked I have ever felt in my entire life,” he told the others. “I was just running and all I could think about was that I was going to be late… Too late…”

“Where were you?” Derek asked, the wrinkles disappearing from his brow as his concern abated.

“I don’t know,” Geoff admitted.

“What were you late for?” Colin asked on a would-be patient sigh.

“I don’t know.”

“Were you looking for someone?” Duncan asked him.

“I don’t know.” Geoff gave them all a weak smile.

Duncan huffed and gave him a look. “Well, what do you know?”

Geoff shrugged and sat back in his chair, suddenly just weary of the whole affair. “I was late and I was panicked… no, more than panicked, I was absolutely terrified. As if my life depended on my being on time. No idea why.”

“You need to get out more,” Colin announced, opening his eyes. “I thought after you started being Mary Hamilton’s permanent escort for the season…”

“I don’t want to talk about Mary,” Geoff muttered, shaking his head. In fact, he had spent the majority of his morning avoiding the topic altogether.

Now it was Derek who grinned. “Not having fun, Geoff?”

“You know what they are saying, don’t you, Geoff?” Colin jumped in, leaning forward eagerly.

He didn’t want to know. He did not.

“They are saying even with your history, Mary doesn’t want to spend time with you.”

Geoffrey felt his jaw drop as he continued to stare at Colin in disbelief. Out of his peripheral vision he saw Derek and Duncan do the same.

Colin nodded, his smile fading slightly, because, really, this was not that humorous. “They say that you cannot keep her sufficiently entertained and that you have actually become a devoted follower that she won’t give the time of day to.”

Geoff closed his eyes and released a slow breath through his nose. He didn’t care what Society thought… He didn’t…

Who was he kidding? He did.

Over the noise of his friend’s uninhibited sniggering, he cleared his throat. “Did you know that Mary is talking with Marianne this morning about how to be a better debutante?” he said suddenly, turning to Duncan.

That got the attention of the entire table. Mouths gaped.

One of Duncan’s thick brows rose. “Excuse me?”

“Marianne has agreed to help Mary ‘thin the crowd’,” Geoff told him, his voice sounding a little petulant.

Derek and Colin looked at Duncan without saying anything.

“Has she now?” Duncan said slowly, his low voice seeming to rumble from the middle of his chest outward.

Geoff nodded with a shrug. “Mary told me herself. She was quite pleased. She wants to be able to act as Marianne does when she chooses, apparently.”

Duncan winced, and he wasn’t the only one. “Not sure that is such a good idea. It will work, I’m sure, but my sister has no idea what people actually say about her.”

“I know,” Geoff said morosely as he set his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands. “I don’t want Mary becoming like her.”

Silence met his ears and he moved his fingers. Duncan was frowning deeply, and grimaces graced the faces of the other two.

Geoff realized his error and looked at Duncan with a cringe of his own. “No offense?”

“Right…” Duncan said with a snort and a shake of his head, “Well, I can talk with Marianne, but it hasn’t done any good yet. She doesn’t listen to anybody, let alone her overprotective and overbearing big brother.”

“I always thought Mary was a girl with sense and judgment,” Derek said, turning serious. “It would disappoint me, and I know Kate as well, if she were to suddenly become less than what she is.”

Geoffrey nodded slowly. That was his chief concern as well. This trick of Mary’s, as entertaining as it had begun, was fast losing its appeal.

“She won’t talk to me anymore,” he confessed to them. “Not the way we used to. She’s hiding things, she’s changing her mind, she’s…”

“Treating you like any other woman might?” Colin finished, giving him a raffish grin.

Geoff opened his mouth, then closed it again. Was that what it was? Their connection was fast becoming a thing of the past because she was losing what made her stand out to him. What exactly that was he could not put his finger on, but he found himself wishing that things would go back to the way they were, when she was largely ignored and only he knew who she really was.

He wasn’t even sure he knew her anymore.

“Tell you what,” Colin said, holding up a finger. “I’ll go over to her house today and pretend to be a candidate. I’ll keep an eye on the men that are there, see what Marianne has got up her dainty little sleeves for Mary, and report back to you all everything I find.”

Geoff looked at him with skepticism. He knew Colin too well. “Will you be a suitor or a spy?” he asked slowly.

Colin shrugged. “Whichever gets me the better outcome. I can be very charming,” he added with his best roguish grin.

Geoffrey Harris did not glare often; he was too polite and considerate for that. And so it didn’t come as much of a surprise to him that when he cast a very unexpected, very long, very dark glare at one of his oldest friends, there was an equally unexpected reaction.

Colin’s grin faded and he cleared his throat, hastily standing up. “I, uh, I have just realized that I am… late… for something…” He threw a few coins on the table and left without looking at any of them.

“Bravo, Geoff,” Derek commented with a smile of his own. “He hasn’t moved that fast since Clara Maxfield learned he could waltz.”

Derek and Duncan chuckled, but Geoff found that his sense of humor was not in full bloom. His glower remained fixed in place.

“Stop worrying, Geoff,” Duncan said with a hand on his shoulder and a rough shake. “Mary is too smart to become a complete debutante, and Marianne won’t be able to change her beyond hope.”

“It’s true,” Derek offered. “And as for what the gossips are saying, who cares? They think Colin is an angel, and we all know what a load of rubbish that is.”

That, at least, managed to coax a smile from him, and he found himself starting to relax a bit. They were right; he was worrying for nothing. He would see Mary on Friday for the theater, and underneath her disguise, she would still be his same, wonderful, dependable Goose.

As she always was.

C
hapter
T
welve

G
eoffrey paced in the foyer of Mary’s home absently, hiding a yawn behind his gloved hand. He had had the exact same dream twice more and each time he got a bit further down the blasted corridor, but never saw the finish, never knew what he was running for, or why it was so important. He never felt refreshed after that dream and he couldn’t sleep again after waking from it. The lack of sleep was starting to get to him, not to mention showing on his face. His brother had let him in on that point of fact none-too-gently this morning at breakfast.

He was also far touchier than his usual temperament allowed. That had been Duncan’s contribution, which had not been received well. What had been said in the club, and by Mary herself the night of the musicale, had only festered with the time passed. He was half tempted to interrogate Mary in the carriage on the way to the theater.

Assuming she actually showed.

He had been waiting nearly a quarter of an hour and his patience was wearing thin. Winston had let him in, which should indicate that all was going to go according to plan, but Geoff was not entirely sure he could fully trust Winston to be loyal to him.

He exhaled sharply and looked up the stairs once more, tempted to run up and fetch Mary himself only to find that she was at last making her grand descent. As angry and irritated as he was with her, he couldn’t help but be awestruck at the spectacle she presented.

Her gown was a rich midnight blue that seemed made from the night sky itself, with the very stars in the fabric, all of which shimmered in their own time as she moved. It was a tight-fitting gown, but not boldly so. Just enough to emphasize her remarkable figure, and to hint to any admirers the quite desirable possibility she had the potential to present. She would have no shortage of attention tonight; he highly doubted the eyes of those in attendance would look anywhere else.

Faintly it occurred to him that he had seen her in this dress at the shop that day, though he could hardly believe it. Mrs. Farrow had obviously completed her work on it and tailored it to Mary’s taste and style, and the end result was breathtaking. He was not one for appreciating fashion regularly, but he could see a very great reason to petition to have Mrs. Farrow named a saint.

Gradually his eyes reached Mary’s face and found her complexion positively glowing. When had she become such a stirring beauty? It seemed that more of the stars had found themselves lost in her tresses, which were delicate and smooth and begging to be toyed with. And her eyes held the remaining stars in them as they danced with excitement.

“Do I pass your inspection?” she asked in musical tones, a small smile toying with the edges of her lips. “You have been at it long enough.”

He shook himself out of the fog he had so suddenly found himself ensconced in, and bowed slightly. “Indeed. I am no match for my companion tonight, and no one will remember that it was I who attended her.”

Mary laughed and reached for the wrap that one of the maids held out for her. “Come now, Mr. Harris, nobody remembers the men who escort any woman to these sorts of things. Has anyone ever noticed you before?”

He frowned at her back as she exited the house. Her statement was probably true, but he had not expected that from her. He had meant to pay her a teasing compliment, and perhaps receive one in return, as they had done for so many years. Yet she had doled out a veiled insult, not harshly, but coyly… Just as Marianne would have.

He followed her quickly, donning his hat and entering the carriage, sitting opposite her once more. He rapped on the carriage, and fixed his eyes upon her with no small degree of criticism as the carriage began moving.

Mary studied and readjusted her gloves aimlessly, never once looking at him. But he never got the sense that she was ignoring him. It was more as if he was not even there.