If he hadn’t heard she was engaged to Rowley, he would have asked to court her. He knew now there would have been nothing preventing her from saying yes.
From there, they would have been married. Everyone would have been there, her aunt and uncle, his mother, and all their friends. Then, they would have settled down at Bartlett Manor. His mother would have enjoyed planning the season’s events with her.
As the thoughts of what might have been continued to bombard his stunned mind, he couldn’t help but picture in his mind what his life with her would look like now had not been for that confounded lie…
Walter had gone home to the townhouse after a long meeting. Though it had been tiresome, he was quite pleased he had accomplished the signing of a business contract which would, hopefully, increase the profits of the shop he owned.
As he entered the house, he had been surprised to note Georgiana was not there waiting for him as she usually was. Then, he smiled as he recalled where she was likely to be.
He went through the house and to the terrace, where his wife sat, two servants on hand, as she looked through samples at the small table set up there. She was so busy, she didn’t even notice his approach. Walter motioned the servants to silence, intending to surprise her.
He felt himself grinning broadly as he stepped up behind her and grabbed her about her waist. With a small scream of surprise, she flailed a little as she turned to see him, her surprise almost instantly turning into a glare as she tried to catch her breath.
“That was uncalled for, Walter,” she told him with a pout, but she did not pull out of his arms, which stayed wrapped around her.
He could not entirely refrain from laughing at her expression. “I know. But you being here is also uncalled for. I thought we had an agreement…”
She had the sense to look slightly ashamed of herself. “It was such a lovely day, and I don’t feel at all in need of resting.”
With one of his hands, he lifted her chin. “I agreed we would only attend this season if you did not overexert yourself and said you may plan one event, so long as my mother does most of the work. You agreed to it.”
Georgiana heaved a dramatic sigh as she put her arms on her husband’s shoulders. “But I don’t feel simply looking at menus and place settings and such like, is any trouble at all…”
“And where is my mother, by the way?” he asked, wondering how she had let such a thing slip past her.
A grin almost instantly appeared on his wife’s face, hinting at some form of mischief. “Come, I will show you,” she said as, with a quick peck to his cheek, she removed her arms, grabbed one of his hands, and led him back into the manor.
Curious as to where they were going, Walter let her lead him through the halls and towards the drawing room. Understanding and a fond smile formed on his face when he saw what she wanted to show him.
There, fast asleep on the sofa, was his mother. In her arms was a little bundle, also fast asleep. “See?” Georgiana whispered. “I couldn’t bear to wake either of them, I did try to take Elise away, but Sylvia was already fast asleep and did nothing more than tighten her arms around her little granddaughter.”
Walter put his arms around Georgiana and set his chin on her shoulder as they both stood there for a long moment and watched the two sleeping. His heart felt so full, as it did almost every time when he saw his daughter.
While it was assumed, as a Baron, he should prefer a son to carry on his name, he was secretly pleased to have a little girl who would, hopefully, look like her mother.
“It is hard to believe she is nearly two months old already…” he heard his wife whisper softly.
“It is,” he agreed in a voice equally soft. “She is so adorable. Perhaps, after we have our son, we could have another girl.”
Georgiana huffed. “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself, Baron Bartlett. While I may have had an easy time of it, I am not in any rush to have another little one too soon.”
“And when we do, Baroness Bartlett, does that sound pleasing?” he asked.
“Hmm… I suppose a boy and then another girl might be acceptable,” she replied as her gaze turned towards him with a look of love and adoration…
Walter was pulled from his reverie by the sound of Georgiana’s voice beside him. He returned his attention to her, as he asked, “Pardon me. I am sorry, I was thinking of … what was your question?”
Looking at her now, he saw her seemingly calm and composed, her eyes looking into the distance as she repeated what she had said, in a voice that seemed cold after what had just been on his mind. “I asked if you had any idea who started the rumor about Ambrose and I being engaged.”
Walter tried to recall if Felicia had mentioned it to him, but he was forced to shrug, as no name came to mind. “I am afraid Felicia is the only one who would know. She would remember who had told her, but I don’t know if she is aware of the origin of it.”
“Perhaps you could ask her the next time you see her?”
He shook his head regretfully. “She is still in France and, more than that, in her last letter to me she wrote to say she was going to spend several weeks with one of her friends. She didn’t mention which friend she was visiting, so I have no way of getting word to her.”
The silence that followed was a long one, and it became increasingly awkward. Just as he was about to ask her a question to fill the silence, she spoke first.
“I suppose we might never know, then. Not that it matters now. What’s done is done,” she said with a barely perceptible sigh.
Walter had no idea what to say to that; he almost didn’t want to know what she could mean. Her tone of voice hinted at finality, which did not sit well with him. Now he knew what had happened, what had caused the misunderstanding between them, perhaps…
“If you will excuse me, I think I will go and … find my aunt,” she said without looking at him as she rose from her seat.
“Wait,” he exclaimed, standing up and catching her hand to stop her. “You don’t have to— I know you well enough to recognize an excuse when you try to use one. Now we know the truth…”
She still didn’t look at him as she deliberately removed her hand from his. “No. We have both been faring perfectly well without each other for a long time now. There is no need for us to become … reacquainted. I think it would be best if I left you now.”
Even as she replied, she didn’t look at him, and something about that refusal hurt him, but he made no further attempts to stop her as she left him alone at the table.
He stood there for what felt like a long while, watching as she found her aunt among the other guests. Finally, he shook himself out of his thoughts. Or, at least, he tried to.