THE BRACELET

By

Jennie Hansen

CHAPTER ONE (August 1843)

Brushing aside a low hanging branch, Georgiana was rewarded with a splatter of raindrops that had been hiding in the thick leaves since the morning’s early shower. She paid them no mind and hurried on. Sydney was waiting and he was always impatient when she was late. Of course, he of all people, should know she couldn’t just leave Burton House whenever she chose.

Lady Burton had been most demanding today, insisting Georgiana try four different hair styles on her before she was satisfied, not that Lady Burton was ever truly satisfied. Though far more attractive than most women in their early forties, Caroline Burton exerted a great deal of time and expense to maintain an illusion of being far younger than her actual years. Georgiana had been Lady Burton’s hairdresser for two seasons, and before that, she had served in several other notable houses so she knew a great deal about ladies’ fashions. She also poured over the fashion pattern books to which all of her wealthy employers subscribed to keep up with the latest trends.

Sidestepping a puddle, Georgiana frowned for a just a moment. She was an excellent hairdresser and she should still be in London or accompanying a titled lady to the various European capitals, instead of being stuck in the country. Unlike many servants in England’s great houses who had fled domestic service for the textile mills of the north and independence, Georgiana had clung to a lifestyle that promised greater access to her dreams. Her mood darkened as she remembered that fat old cow, the Marchioness of Stanhope. She’d promised to take Georgiana to Paris. Instead she’d dismissed Georgiana when she discovered her loathsome son, the heir to the Stanhope fortune, attempting to steal a kiss from her hairdresser in the music room. As if it were any of my doing! I wouldn’t ally myself with that fat toad even for all of the Stanhope fortune.

Georgiana turned down a familiar shortcut through the woods that separated the manor house from the village, her thoughts still on the events which had resulted in her meeting and falling in love with Stanley Burton. At first she’d been happy to leave Stanhope House and had considered herself fortunate she wasn’t turned away without a recommendation, as this wasn’t the first time her appearance had brought her trouble. Being blessed with wide green eyes, long dark curls, and a shapely form, often seemed more like a curse than a blessing for a woman in service.

Georgiana had long since made up her mind to use her beauty to aid her ambition to wed favorably, but she’d had no idea escaping unfavorable attention would be so difficult. Thank goodness, Stanley was more enlightened than his parents and most of their contemporaries. He was not only rich, handsome, and charming, but he frequently told her that class and the artificial divisions of society it created were no longer pertinent to the modern world. It is no wonder I love him. She sighed and increased her pace.

She resented being considered unworthy of the attentions of the young men in elite households and of being the one punished when husbands or sons assumed she welcomed their flirtations. None of her several employers had been dissatisfied with her work, but twice she had been discreetly recommended to another lady of the ton who had expressed a desire to obtain her services, as a means of removing her from a gentleman-of-the-household’s notice. Nothing had been said to her, but in two cases Georgiana knew her mistresses had agreed to her change of service because their husbands paid her too much attention. Her first position had come to an end when her young mistress had married an older man who was too clutch-fisted to pay for a hairdresser in addition to a lady’s maid, so she had served as both-- until the husband had attempted to add a third duty to her responsibilities. Georgiana brushed back her tiered skirt before it could make contact with the droppings left on the footpath by some careless gentleman’s steed.

Lady Caroline had appeared at first to be the answer to her prayers. It had been a pleasant surprise to discover a mistress so assured of her own beauty, she didn’t seem to notice Georgiana’s appearance. A tinge of anger swept though her. Lady Burton, she had learned, was no different from many others of her class. She not only didn’t notice that Georgiana was beautiful, she didn’t notice Georgiana, or any of her servants, were even people. To her, there was the elite class to which she belonged and everyone else simply existed as nameless, faceless hands to make life smooth and comfortable for their employers. Caroline had been a debutante during the time of the Prince Regent. She seemed to think she still lived in that time when servants were little more than slaves.

Georgiana resented too, that Lady Burton paid her substantially less since their arrival in the country than she had while they were in town. She couldn’t blame those servants who had left the Burton’s employ to try their fortunes in the mills up north where it was rumored some workers earned as much as 30 pounds a year. She’d even considered doing so herself, though she couldn’t see being tied to the long hours and tedious tasks required of factory workers. She wanted more than drudgery in her life and Stanley had promised her travel, beautiful gowns, and security. Of course, it helped that Stanley was handsome, charming, and educated. He was all she had dreamed of in a future husband.

For some inexplicable reason, Lady Burton had retired to the country before the season ended last spring, taking her second son, Sydney, her personal maid, Gwen, and Georgiana with her to the country. Georgiana was well-aware "the season" wasn’t the grand social event it had once been, but it still held a great deal of glamour and was highly valued by Lady Caroline and her social set.

What had first appeared to be a disastrous train of events, which landed her in the country, she now saw as incredible luck. Crossing a small footbridge, she smiled at her reflection in the water below, seeing the happiness on her own face. It was all because of Sydney. She’d scarcely been aware of him in London. He’d spent little time at the Burton town house on Grosvenor Street, but had rooms of his own near his favorite club and had only put in brief courtesy appearances at his mother’s entertainments.

The sudden flight of birds in front of her reminded her of the recent rash of muggings and thefts in the neighborhood. She looked around nervously, noting the thick woods on all sides of her. Young Lord Haven had been discovered in just such a place in the next county a fortnight ago with his throat slashed and his purse missing. Even with the hefty reward his grandfather, a magistrate of the royal court, had posted, no one had come forward with any information leading to an arrest. She turned quickly down the path leading to the village and her mind filled almost at once with her preoccupation with Sydney.

Georgian recalled how Sydney had spent the first few weeks recovering from a slight wound to his throat that he’d received during a scrape he and a couple of his rowdier friends had gotten into in London. She hadn’t learned the details and when she’d asked, he’d dismissed the wound as trivial. After the first few weeks spent in the country, he’d become bored. The young man claimed the Burton stables didn’t provide much of a challenge, which left him without amusement or companionship other than that which he found at the village pub or in pursuing "the prettiest girl in all England."

With few entertainments requiring elaborate hairstyles for her mistress, Georgiana, too, found the country limiting. At first, boredom had been both the reason Sydney began flirting with her and the reason she had responded. But as they became better acquainted, flirtation had blossomed into romance.

Georgiana’s feet flew down the faint path. It was fair day and she had only a few precious hours to enjoy the summer festivities with Sydney before Lady Burton would awaken from her nap, expecting Georgiana to be there to help her dress and do her hair all over again for that evening’s ball. Her mistress was in a dither over the ball. She was as excited as if this were her first ball, which it certainly was not. Nearly thirty years had passed since Lady Caroline, the youngest daughter of the Earl of Middleton, was presented to the queen and her papa had almost immediately betrothed her to wealthy Viscount Burton, a man considerably her elder.

Lord Burton spent most of his time in town and only visited his estate on rare occasions. Unlike her previous employers’ husbands, Lord Burton paid her no attention, so she didn’t dread his visits, but his arrival the previous week had thrown the staff into a flurry of activity and sent the viscountess scurrying to arrange a ball. The older country servants were almost as excited as their mistress and spent countless hours scurrying about and whispering behind their hands as though the town servants weren’t meant to be privy to the plans for the ball.

Far fewer guests had arrived to stay at the manor until the ball than Georgiana had expected, leaving her with more free time than many of the other staff members whose ranks hadn’t been increased to meet the demands placed on the servants by preparations for the ball. When her last employer had entertained at his country estate, the house had been filled with house guests and extra maids were employed to ensure that all went smoothly. And there had been a bonfire and supper for the servants with dancing afterward.

Once she and Sydney were married, she hoped to spend most of her time in town. She’d had enough of dull country pursuits. Being a second son, Sydney wasn’t required to learn estate management and life in the country bored him as surely as it did her. She shivered in delightful anticipation of becoming Sydney’s bride and wondered at her own audacity in presuming to wed a member of the aristocracy even if he was only the second son of a Viscount. There would be a terrible scandal at first, but she didn’t doubt for a minute she would eventually win over even the highest sticklers. Society wasn’t as stiff as it had been prior to Queen Victoria’s reign. Her time at Lord Burton’s country estate had proved advantageous, but she longed for the elopement Sydney had promised and their return to the city.

Music reached her ears and her excitement grew. Would Sydney dance with her? It had been almost two years since a handsome man had held her in his arms as they swayed to music. She had a fondness for music, but had found little in the way of musical entertainment on the Burton estate.

"Psst! Georgiana! Over here." A whisper came from behind a tree just before the path ended in a break in the hedge that almost surrounded the village.

"Sydney!" She recognized his voice and came to a halt. He sat behind a tree almost hidden from the path. Stepping around the tree she knelt beside him. Before taking her hands, he shoved two small silver pistols into his coat pocket.

"You’re looking lovely!" He grinned in appreciation of her long, dark curls, heart-shaped face, and winsome form. His mouth angled toward her full lips, but she backed up, giving him a slight, but calculated pout.

"Playing with toys?" She arched a teasing eyebrow.

"You mean these?" He pulled the silver guns from his pocket. "They’re not toys, my dear." He grinned mischievously. "They’re very real, as more than one cheater at cards has discovered. I got them from a friend who acquired the matched pair on his recent visit to America, where they’ve become quite popular since they can easily be hid up a sleeve or inside a boot." He returned the pistols to his pocket, then caught her off guard with a sudden lunge, grabbing her around the shoulders and pulling her closer.

"You promised we’d visit the fair." She pouted.

"And we shall, my sweet. I only wished a taste."

Georgiana hesitated. It was important that she and Sydney be seen together in public, and giving into him now could spoil all her plans. If the villagers knew Sidney was squiring her about, it would be far more difficult for Lord Burton to have their marriage set aside when they returned from their elopement. Then, too, she hoped that when Sydney realized that the inevitable gossip which would follow their being seen together would certainly reach his parents, it would spur him to run away with her before Lady Burton could dismiss her and Lord Burton could send him abroad. Sydney was already in his father’s poor graces for some boyish prank he’d involved himself in during the recent social season in London. Thus far they’d been discreet and circumspect, seeing each other only in darkened hallways, the woods, and at the summer pavilion late at night when everyone else was asleep, but Sydney was growing more and more demanding. If they didn’t soon visit the parson Sydney had told her would wed them with only a special license and no posting of banns, she feared she would yield to his coaxing and her own desires.

She didn’t mean to be just another dalliance, easily dismissed when Sydney spied another pretty face. He’d promised to wed her and she meant to hold him to that promise. She loved him, but she wasn’t a fool. Of course, there was the possibility that since Sydney was merely a second son, Lord Burton would show his displeasure by purchasing a commission for Sydney, and she would find herself following the drum. Even that would be preferable to the dull life she now led and, at least, they would be together.

"Just one dance, my love." She pitched her voice to a throaty purr and let one hand slide slowly up his arm. She leaned forward, giving his cheek a fluttering kiss. When he sought more, she clasped his hand to lead him toward the couples dancing just beyond the hedge. He seemed about to draw back, then with a shrug of his shoulders, burst through the hedge a step behind her dancing figure.

He clasped her waist and held her close as they spun about the dirt-packed floor. His fingers toyed with her curls, then strayed to the ribbons of her bodice. The fiddle sounded a faster beat and she twirled away, then back. She’d never felt so alive and happy before in the whole of her life.

Following a couple of country dances, they paused to catch their breaths. Georgiana smiled happily at the couples surrounding them. There were few faces from the manor, though she did spy a dark-haired young man she thought was a gypsy from the camp she’d heard was nearby. She knew his name was Raul, and that he was often in Sydney’s company. He appeared to be watching her, his dark eyes seeming to mock her. She turned her back, refusing to let him dampen her gaiety and was surprised to catch a shared conspiratorial wink passing between Sydney and the gypsy.

Sydney greeted a few of the young men they encountered on the dance floor by name. They grinned and clapped him on the back in a friendly fashion and she had to stifle her annoyance when he didn’t offer to introduce her. She comforted herself with the reminder that they would soon meet again under far different circumstances.

She didn’t protest when Sydney took her hand, leading her away from the makeshift dance floor. They paused at a booth where he bought her a small lemon custard. A short time later he hesitated in front of a table heaped with an odd assortment of items. A toothless old woman beckoned him closer and he leaned toward her. The hag whispered in his ear and they both laughed. As Georgiana grew impatient, the old woman handed Sydney a paper which he dropped into his pocket before slipping a silver coin in her palm. Moments later he whisked Georgiana back through the hedge. His arm encircled her waist as he led her deep into the wood which separated the manor from the village.

Sydney stopped in a quiet glen. Large trees formed a bowery with their branches, allowing only an occasional dapple of light to penetrate to the grassy floor. To one side, she caught a glimpse of a roof through the thick foliage and heard the shuffle of a heavy animal’s hooves accompanied by its blustery blowing of air. For a brief moment she wondered why a horse was stabled in the woods, then she forgot everything except Sydney.

Taking Georgiana with him, Sydney sank to his knees. She was vaguely aware of a blanket spread across the grass, but before she could consider its implication, Sydney kissed her and pulled her closer.

"Sydney." Her protest was feeble as she felt his hands stroke her back and begin to stray.

"Don’t worry, my love," he murmured in her ear. "Tomorrow we will fly to our own destiny. Special license or Gretna Green, it doesn’t matter to me as long as you are mine."

"We should wait."

"Perhaps this should wait too." His voice was soft in her ear as he dangled a piece of jewelry before her eyes. "I bought it as a symbol of all the many facets of my love for you."

A delicate silver chain swayed slightly before Georgiana’s face and she gasped at the sight of five large jewels, each one different from the others, set in the length of twisted shining strands. There was something ostentatious about the large gems and their varied hues that lent the bracelet a gaudy appearance. It both offended Georgiana’s sense of aesthetics and drew her hypnotically. Never in her life, before capturing Sydney’s heart, had she owned anything of monetary value or great beauty. She stretched out her hand and lightly touched the glittering object.

"This is where it belongs. Precious jewels for my precious jewel." Sydney captured her hand and fastened the bracelet around her wrist. She held up her arm, allowing the slanting rays of late summer sun to reflect the varied hues of the bracelet, sending a prism of color to dance before her eyes.

"It’s beautiful." Tears dimmed Georgiana’s eyes and her heart beat faster with the thrill of being loved by handsome, generous Sydney.

"You’re beautiful," Sydney whispered. With one hand he drew her mouth to his. The bracelet pressed deeply against her skin, weakening her will to resist. Softly her fingers brushed the red welt at the base of his throat.

"Sydney!" The peremptory voice of Sydney’s brother, the Honorable Gerald Burton, drifted toward them. The call was repeated, sounding closer. Sydney removed his hand from where Georgiana realized with a burst of heat suffusing her face, she shouldn’t have permitted it to stray. Sydney scrambled to his feet while Georgiana struggled to straighten her dress.

"You’re mother will be expecting me," she mumbled, her face downcast.

"Look, Love," Sydney’s hands cupped her cheeks, drawing her close for a final kiss. "We have to go, but tonight, after Mother’s ball, meet me here. She keeps the Middleton betrothal ring, which is my bride’s right, locked away. Until I can persuade her to give it to me, this bracelet will serve as a symbol of our betrothal and before dawn you shall be my bride."

CHAPTER TWO

Georgiana ignored the glare Lady Burton gave her when she walked into the lady’s dressing room. She didn’t apologize for being late, nor for the fact that her mistress had sent a maid and two pages to summon her. The silly woman maintained an icy silence as Georgiana twisted and curled her hair into the elaborate style she had chosen for the evening. As a final touch, she wove three pale pink rosebuds into the coiffure around the base of a long feather died to match Lady Burton’s deep rose, multi-flounced gown.

Her mistress examined the flowers with a critical eye, then preened into the glass as they met her approval.

"Ah, they were worth the search." Georgiana let her voice convey an insinuation that her tardiness was due to searching every bush in the garden for the perfect buds to adorn her mistress’s hair.

When Lady Burton was satisfied with the elegance of her appearance, she rose to her feet and made her way to the door of her chamber. She paused once to tap her closed fan across her left palm, a sign Georgiana had learned was an indication her ladyship was up to something.

"You are to assist Gwen in preparing our young guests for this evening’s entertainment. After they have gone downstairs, you may straighten my suite and set their rooms in order. You will not be needed after that and may retire to your bed." With a swirl of her flounced layers of skirt, she turned sideways to the door to accommodate her wide hoops and was gone.

Georgiana crept after her, just to where she could glimpse the musicians warming up their instruments. She watched Lady Burton descending the grand staircase to join her husband who waited impatiently in the hall. Georgiana flung one longing look toward Sydney, standing beside his parents, prepared to greet their guests. He was attired in a lemon-colored waistcoat, buff pantaloons, shining boots, and his cravat was knotted in the latest fashion. She noted that Sydney’s older brother, Gerald, and his mousy wife had also arrived in the hall and joined the receiving line. Elizabeth’s hoops were narrower than Caroline’s, revealing she wasn’t nearly as particular about fashion as was her mother-in-law.

Gerald and Elizabeth had been married four years without producing an heir, though not from a failure of trying to secure the family name and fortune. Elizabeth had suffered two miscarriages and delivered a stillborn son. Georgiana’s lip curved up in the faintest hint of a smile. There was a good possibility her children would eventually be heirs to the manor, the Burton fortune, and the hereditary title since it didn’t appear likely that Elizabeth would manage to produce an heir.

"Georgiana!" She heard Gwen’s impatient voice. "Lady Burton said we should assist the Wellington ladies in their dress. Come at once!"

Georgiana turned back, doing her best to hide her reluctance. She should be standing beside Sydney, not dressing his mother’s guests’ hair! The fingers of her right hand slipped beneath the left cuff of the unfashionable gown she wore. Dreamily they ran across the five jewels set in the bracelet Sydney had given her just this afternoon as a token of his love. Only his reluctance to anger his parents by skipping his mother’s ball had delayed their running away before the wee hours of the morning. The touch of the bracelet served to brighten her mood and she turned away to follow Gwen to the guest wing.

All four of the Wellington offspring were dressed in shimmering white satin and lace gowns adorned with different hues of ribbon on each gown. They, with their mother, were gathered in the oldest daughter’s room. Their mother, a large, loud, pasty-faced woman obviously considered them incomparables and had spared no expense for their shoes and gowns, though with their pale hair, the white made them look insipid. The countess fluttered about her darlings, smiling and showering them with compliments, in short, generally making a nuisance of herself.

Georgiana felt a tug of sympathy for the eldest daughter, who appeared almost ill with her pasty face and pinched lips. This was Lady Daphne’s third season and the only suitors she’d managed to attract thus far were younger sons with pockets-to-let and crass fortune hunters. Georgiana ignored the younger girls’ giggles and whispered conversation as she set about curling and braiding their hair. Daphne didn’t join her sisters’ gay chatter, but she occasionally sighed as though greatly troubled. Georgiana’s observations of the Wellingtons was superficial and failed to penetrate the cloud of happy dreams surrounding her own plans for that momentous night. She’d become adept at blocking out silly chatter in favor of her own thoughts as she worked.

Thinking a ribbon in the older girl’s hair might give her a bit more color, she wove a bit of pink satin into the elaborate braids she’d used to give the girl an illusion of height.

"Oh, this won’t do!" Lady Daphne stared at her image in the glass when Georgiana finished. She looked as if she might burst into tears.

"But Lady Daphne . . . the color . . ." Georgiana began only to be cut off by the Countess.

"She’ll be wearing the Wellington rubies tonight." The Countess huffed proudly and set a small casket on the dressing table, then slipped a key into the lock. After the tiniest click, it opened to reveal a magnificent tiara of blood red rubies the size of robin’s eggs sitting atop a glittering rainbow of jewels.

Georgiana barely managed to suppress the gasp that arose to her lips. Even a lowly hairdresser such as herself had heard of the fortune in rubies that were part of the Wellington heiress’s dowery. Georgina’s right hand went unconsciously to her left wrist, fingering the slight ridges she could feel with her fingertips. She had never expected to own even a small fortune in jewels, now thanks to Sydney, five beautiful gems were hers, including one that was an almost identical match to the amazing stone at the center of the ring Lady Wellington returned to the case that held the glittering array of jewels.

"Yes, I see, madam." Georgiana returned to business, stripping the offending ribbons from the girl’s hair and beginning to build a style worthy of the tiara. Only to herself did she complain that a great deal of time and irritation could have been saved if she’d been informed of the tiara to begin with. And what does Lady Wellington expect to accomplish by allowing Lady Daphne to wear the famous rubies tonight ? And to a country ball no less!

When Georgiana finished Lady Daphne’s hair, she noticed the brilliant stones did bring out some color in the girl’s cheeks making her look almost pretty. Turning to the girl’s sisters, she asked if any of them were planning to wear jewelry or any sort of ornamentation in their hair. They giggled and Lady Wellington announced that ribbons would do for them, though they would, of course, wear jewelry, there would be no more tiaras.

The stout, horsey-looking woman tossed her head and Georgiana noticed the sparkling sapphires encircling her thick neck. They were likely as valuable as the rubies and she had heard it said that just one of the Wellington rubies would feed the British navy for a full year. It was no wonder Lady Daphne was plagued by fortune hunters.

Georgiana stifled a groan when she saw the heavy necklaces, ear bobs, and bracelets the Countess draped on her younger daughters. The ornate ruby pieces at Daphne’s throat and dangling from her ear lobes came close to being too much for the young girl, though they did improve her color. But the glitter of jewels on her younger sisters looked absurdly ostentatious. But at last the girls were ready for the ball and their mother shepherded them from the room. Georgiana was glad to see them go.

A sound behind her reminded her she wasn’t alone. Gwen, too, seemed to be relieved to see the fluttering young women depart. Lady Burton’s maid had been the only other female servant to accompany her mistress to the country. She was much older than Georgiana and had been with Caroline’s mother before becoming Caroline’s personal maid. Though Georgiana and Gwen shared a peaceful coexistence, they’d never become close friends.

Giving a sigh, Gwen arched her back, revealing the toll age and arthritis had inflicted on her. She looked around the room, now cluttered with discarded clothing and toiletries. "We’ll have to straighten it before they return," she said with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. Georgiana felt a twinge of sympathy for the woman who had served Lady Burton for more than thirty years and Caroline’s mother before with little to show for her hard work and loyalty. She’d been granted few privileges for her many years of service. Though she must have been pretty as a young woman, she had no husband, children, or life of her own. Georgiana touched the bracelet beneath her sleeve. Thankfully, she wouldn’t share the older maid’s fate.

"I’m not a maid," Georgiana protested even as she bent to pick up a discarded stocking. She wasn’t really complaining; she was too happy for that. Besides there was something about Gwen that reminded Georgiana of her own mother’s struggle with declining health before her death.

"Lord Wellington’s man and her ladyship’s maid will do their rooms, the housemaids have all been pressed into service to help with the refreshments and other guests, which leaves only the two of us to set the young ladies’ and Lady Burton’s rooms to rights. On a night like this, everything must be just right." She cast a glance which seemed almost sympathetic toward Georgiana.

Doubtless, Gwen thought Georgiana was feeling left out because she hadn’t been included among the servants given assignments which would bring them in contact with the beautifully decorated ballroom, the orchestra, and glittering guests Georgiana guessed. She did feel a tinge of resentment, but for an entirely different reason. Except for Lady Burton’s silly ball, this would be her wedding night. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she bent to the task, whisking discarded items into their appropriate places. She closed the jewel casket, noticing again that the spectacular ruby ring was the only piece of the set Lady Daphne hadn’t worn. She looked around for a place to leave the jewel casket, then tucked it out of sight in a drawer.

"I’ll finish in here," she told Gwen. "Go ahead and start on Lady Burton’s suite."

Gwen smiled to be granted this small consideration and left, closing the door behind her. Georgiana finished straightening the Wellington misses rooms and instead of joining Gwen, she made her way to the gallery where she could hide behind thick curtains to watch the ball below. She was much too excited to return to the room she shared with the other female household help. Smiling a secret smile, she remembering how once Sydney had caught her in the upper hallway and had pulled her into the gallery for an impromptu kiss. He’d told her how he and his brother had been allowed to go there with their nanny when they were small boys to watch their mother’s parties. A cloud of dust arose, leaving her struggling to suppress a sneeze as she slid behind the long velvet draperies. She supposed that with no children in the house and a smaller staff than was once employed to keep the mansion spotless, this part of the house had become neglected.

Peering through the curtains, she found the ballroom ablaze with candles and the dancers were a swirl of color. Music drifted to her ears and she couldn’t help swaying to the rhythm, imagining herself dancing in Sydney’s arms around the grand room. How she loved to dance.

It took several minutes before she found Sydney’s elegant form moving among the dancers. She didn’t recognize his partner, a tall auburn-haired beauty who coquettishly tossed her curls and laughed each time the country dance brought them together. It seemed to Georgiana that the young lady was allowing each touch to linger longer than was called for by the steps of the dance

When the music ended, she watched Sydney escort the young lady to a chair next to her chaperone, bow deeply, then turn away. Moments later he presented himself to Lady Daphne. Georgiana tried not to mind. It would be expected of him to dance with the daughter of his mother’s house guests. The girl’s slipper caught on the hem of her gown and she stumbled a bit as she rose to her feet. Georgiana smiled ruefully, knowing the matrons would cluck and the poor girl would only be saved from their scorn by her father’s fortune.

The musicians struck up a waltz and Georgiana watched jealously as Sydney held Lady Daphne close and glided with her across the floor. The poor child appeared almost graceful in Sydney’s arms. When the music stopped this time, everyone stayed in place. Viscount Burton stepped to the dias and held up his arms. He then beckoned for Sydney to join him.

Georgiana didn’t know what was happening, but she felt a nervous tremor in the pit of her stomach. She watched Sydney extend his arm to Lady Daphne and saw the encouraging smile he gave her as she placed her hand above his. Even from the distance of the balcony, Georgiana could see the glitter of a huge diamond on the girl’s left hand. A ripple of approving noises emanated from the assembled crowd, then as Sydney and Daphne made their way toward Lord Burton, Georgiana clapped her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to hear Lord Burton’s speech. Nausea was now threatening and she doubled over in pain.

In spite of her efforts, Lord Burton’s deep voice penetrated her senses, piercing her heart. ". . announce betrothal . . . Sydney . . . Daphne Wellington, daughter of . . . banns to be posted . . . a toast . . ." Georgiana took a stunned step forward, disbelieving, and totally oblivious to the swarm of servants balancing trays of fluted glasses moving through the crowd. Her mind conjured up her last glimpse of the jewel casket the Countess of Wellington had carried to Lady Daphne’s room. She’d draped the entire ruby collection on her daughter, save one piece. Daphne’s fingers had been left bare because the countess knew her daughter’s hand would be adorned that night with the Middleton diamond betrothal ring that had come to Lady Burton from her mother and hence to Sydney.

Georgiana’s hand clawed at the bracelet on her wrist. Tears ran down her cheeks and dropped on the bright stones. Sydney had promised her the Middleton diamond would be hers after they wed. It came from his mother’s side of the family since the Burton betrothal ring had gone to Gerald’s wife. Because Sydney couldn’t access the ring without his mother’s approval, he’d chosen a bracelet of bright jewels to pledge his love. Had it all been a lie? Was Sydney going to marry Lady Daphne? Or was he simply taking part in a charade while planning secretly to elope with her? The answer was more than she could bear. The candles grew dim and Georgiana felt herself falling. It didn’t matter. She would rather fall to her death at Sydney’s feet than live seeing him wed to Lady Daphne.

Groggily, she came awake. For a moment she was uncertain of her whereabouts, then she realized she was lying on the floor of the gallery balcony. And she was very much alive. Sitting up slowly, she noted that the ball was continuing. The sounds that reached her were those of a celebration. Then she remembered.

No! This is Lord and Lady Burton’s doing. Somehow they learned their son had fallen in love with a woman in service. The betrothal means nothing. In a few hours Sydney will take me away just as we planned! He’s only going along with the betrothal to avoid suspicion.

Crouching low she hurried from her exposed position to the safety of the thick velvet drapes. She was shivering with cold and she paused to wrap the heavy folds of fabric around herself to stave off the chill while she attempted to gain control of her emotions. She couldn’t let any of the other servants see her in this state.

Voices caught her attention, freezing her to the spot where she stood wrapped in the deepest folds of the velvet curtains.

"Put that toy away and get back to Lady Wellington." It was Gerald’s grating voice.

"I assure you this is no toy. At close range it is as deadly as a full size pistol. I have to . . ." She recognized Sydney’s voice and longed to throw herself into his arms, but Gerald cut his brother off.

"What? Make certain your mistress doesn’t cause a scene? If you had any sense at all you would have paid her off and made certain she was nowhere near here tonight. If Wellington even begins to suspect you gambled away your inheritance from Grandmother Middleton’s estate and are now penniless except for the allowance you receive from Father, he’ll call off the betrothal. He won’t allow his precious daughter to be the means of repairing your fortune."

"I’m not that much of a fool. I gave the chit a bracelet and made arrangements," Sydney responded in an indifferent voice. Georgiana’s hand went once more to the jewel-laden chain encircling her wrist.

"And if I know you, the bracelet is nothing but brass with a few bits of glass." Gerald’s voice was scathing. "And why is your little hairdresser still here? She should have been gone before the Ladies Wellington arrived."

"The time wasn’t right." Sydney’s voice was sullen. "And Mother had need of her skills."

"It’s a good thing I caught a glimpse of her on the balcony. Wellington will cut up if he catches wind of this. It was your plan to restore your fortune with Lady Daphne’s dowery. And you know perfectly well that if you make the chit happy, you stand to inherit the Wellington fortune since there is no male heir. You’re finally in Father’s good graces because he sees you might produce the heir Elizabeth and I have thus far failed to give him, but you stand to lose it all if you don’t get your paramour out of here."

"It’s taken care of!" Sydney snapped back in a voice Georgiana had never heard before. "I’ve made arrangements. She’ll be gone before first light. Raul assures me she will fetch a tidy sum." Why Georgiana’s memory flew to the exchange between Sydney and the old gypsy woman at the fair, she didn’t know, but she was suddenly afraid. She scarcely dared breathe until the brothers moved on.

"Get back to Lady Daphne!" Gerald ordered. "I’ll look for the wench."

She didn’t hear Sydney’s response, but she stayed hidden for some time. Slowly the shock receded to be replaced by anger. Sydney had lied to her. He had no intention of marrying her. His proposal had been a sham calculated to get past her guard. She curled her fingers into her palms, forming fists in her fury. Far greater than the blow to her heart was the pain of being made a fool. She wanted to make Sydney pay for her smashed dreams. She thought of sneaking into the ballroom and making her own announcement. It would serve him right to lose Lady Daphne’s dowery–and the Wellington fortune!

Before she could act, another voice reached her ears. "Georgiana?" She recognized Gwen’s voice. She was afraid to answer. What if Gerald had sent Gwen after her? He was determined to get her out of the house and she wasn’t sure what lengths he’d go to to accomplish that feat. She’d been a fool to assume the other servants hadn’t noticed Sydney’s attention to her. And what did Sydney have in mind? Something sinister, she guessed, remembering the set of small guns Sydney had boasted of and the dark-eyed gypsy who had followed her with his eyes as she danced on the common.

"Georgiana, you must come with me now." The curtain moved and Gwen clasped her hand. "Hurry--and be quiet."

"Gerald . . .," she stammered.

"He won’t look in my room. Now be quick." Georgiana had to trust someone and Gwen had always been kind to her. She ran down the darkened hall behind the older maid until they came to the small room off Lady Burton’s dressing room. Once they were inside, Gwen guided Georgiana to a chair before demanding the whole story. By the time Georgiana finished she was in tears again.

"Shush!" Gwen demanded. "We need to think and we mustn’t risk any sound that will alert the Burtons or the other servants. The local staff are a clannish lot and I’ve suspected for some time they were snickering over your infatuation with young Sydney." Gwen ratified her own belated conclusion concerning their fellow servants.

"I’ve suspected the Burton fortune was faltering for some time," Gwen mused. "Lord Burton and young Sydney both gamble extensively. Gerald’s marriage to an earl’s daughter bolstered the family resources for some time, but apparently it needs another financial infusion. Sydney has never had an ounce of scruples, and it was his gambling losses, coupled with fear that his latest escapade would endanger the Wellington arrangement that drove Lady Burton to retire to the country with him until the formal betrothal was announced." Gwen paced the floor, taking short, agitated steps.

"I thought he loved me." Georgiana covered her face with her hands, but already snatches of memory were painting a different picture of Sydney than the one with whom she’d fallen in love. "He gave me this bracelet as a token of his love. He said the stones were precious jewels." She unclasped the chain and thrust it toward Gwen, her heart twisting at the sight of green marks left by the cheap metal on her wrist.

Gwen took the bracelet from Georgiana’s hand and studied it carefully. "Hmft! Precious jewels all right!" She snorted. "Ten years ago the village church burned down. The heat exploded the stained glass windows, which depicted Jesus with a group of children gathered around Him. It was entitled "Precious Jewels." The ground was covered for some distance with bits of bright, colored glass. Children collected the pretty lumps of glass to play with and Sydney came home from exploring the ruins with his pockets full of the brightly colored bits."

Georgiana sat up straight, suddenly recognizing the extent of his betrayal. "He plans to send me away tomorrow without a referral. Without any money and only a worthless piece of jewelry, what will become of me?"

"I fear his plans are worse than that." Gwen folded her arms and looked greatly troubled. "I heard him send word by the kitchen boy to Raul over at the gypsy camp, telling him to come at once. That’s how I knew something was afoot. I don’t like to speak harshly of my mistress’s son, but Sydney has had a cruel, selfish side since he was a boy and he has always resented not being the heir. His mother excused the drowned kittens, servants’ accidents, and the times he was sent down from school as childish pranks, but I’ve had my suspicions about Sydney since he sent for Raul the day Elizabeth began labor while he was the only other family member at home.

"Raul brought some strange woman here who claimed she was a midwife. The old hag insisted Elizabeth drink some vile mixture that put the poor girl to sleep. Raul and the woman were gone and I couldn’t awaken Elizabeth when the real midwife and Gerald arrived. Her wee babe never drew breath and that poor girl hovered at death’s door for nigh a week. When she was able to sit up and speak again, she had no memory of her ordeal and I thought it best to keep my lips sealed."

"What!" Georgiana jumped to her feet and Gwen had to remind her to be quiet. Her heart pounded with fear. The enormity of Gwen’s words sank in. Gwen had accused Sydney of murdering his own nephew. If Elizabeth’s baby had meant nothing to Sydney, certainly her own life would have no value.

"Why didn’t you warn me? Though Sydney and I took care not to draw attention to our meetings, surely some of the staff must have been aware of our interest in each other and talked among themselves. I’ve seen you have tea with the housekeeper and know the staff hasn’t shunned you as they have me."

"Oh, my dear." Tears came to Gwen’s eyes. "After Sydney got in trouble over that actress, Lady Burton was frantic to keep him out of London until his betrothal was made public. She expected she couldn’t keep him here once his throat healed without a distraction. That is why she brought you here. I assumed you had agreed to . . . uh entertain Sydney and keep him from rushing back to London and that actress with whom he is obsessed."

"She knew . . . Lady Burton expected . . . She had no right to think that I . . ." Rage and mortification churned inside Georgiana, rendering her nearly incapable of rational speech. "I’ve got to get away. Now! Tonight!" Georgiana paced across the small room.

"I have a little money," Gwen told her, reaching out to touch her arm. "It isn’t much, but I’ve been saving for the time when I will no longer be able to earn my keep. It will get you away from here."

"I can’t take . . ."

"You must." Gwen was suddenly fierce. "I was much like you when I was a girl. I too loved unwisely. My mistress, who was just a girl herself, discovered my feelings for her brother and that her parents were dismissing me without a reference. She made some quiet plans of her own. She convinced Lord Middleton to hire me to care for his new bride and whisked me out of the house. Without her, I would have starved or been forced to turn to an unsavory life. I vowed if I could ever be of service to another young woman in a like situation, I would."

"But . . ."

"No, you mustn’t argue. Just stay here until I return. I’ll pack a few clothes for you and get the money. Do you have any keepsakes in your room you especially value?"

Georgiana shook her head. She had nothing–nothing but a useless bracelet. She watched Gwen check the hall, then move soundlessly toward the servant’s wing before closing the door that led to the hall.

By the light of the moon streaming through the window, Georgiana examined the bracelet she’d believed was a token of Sydney’s true love. It glittered brightly and she contemplated throwing it from the tiny window in Gwen’s room to the paved driveway below. With my luck, it will land on some dutiful servant’s head who will take it to Gerald. She let the bracelet drop to the floor.

With Gwen gone from the room, she was again assailed by doubts. Could she trust Gwen? Even if Gwen was being honest with her, how could she take the older woman’s money, and how could Gwen have saved enough to be of use on her meager salary? She hung her head, wondering where she should go and how she would get there. Her eyes caught the bright array of colors in the bracelet she’d flung to the floor. If only the bits of glass were real jewels! A picture of the ruby ring Lady Daphne’s mother, the Countess, had left behind in the little jewel casket flashed into her mind. A piece of red glass seemed to wink at her from the bracelet at her feet. Her knees bent and her hand reached out for the bracelet, almost as if it had a will of its own.