Great Hades, he would have sold off everything he owned to give her father the money he needed to marry the girl himself, but he was clearly not worthy of her then. No, the young pup sat and wined and mourned his loss—never fully thinking of what atrocities she would face. George had been angry, to be sure, but not man enough to offer for her instead.
It made him physically ill to imagine the dear frightened girl retreating more and more into herself to become what an old man wished—to be seen and not heard. Her quick mind and wit would have been stanched the first moment she endeavored to say something to him, believing no man would ever want her.
And then to be turned away. To be offered no affection at all. His perfect Catherine had never been kissed. The shame. The horrid belief of self she had to endure. Why? Because he was too craven to care enough to save her. He did not deserve such a creature. And he certainly did not deserve the attention she showed him four years ago, either.
But what was he to do now? She had mentioned that she would prefer to hide herself away from everyone. And for what? So she could prove to herself that her senseless husband was correct all along? Or even worse, was she making an effort to protect people from the monster she believed she was?
And there it was. The truth of the matter. She had begun to think so lowly of herself, she felt it best to leave society behind so no one else would see her inadequacies. What a cruel, harsh, lonely existence. How could one make her see the truth?
His shortcomings were no match for a woman who needed to believe she was beautiful and desirable once more. Yet, now that he identified the truth, he was inclined to help her all he could.
He took a deep breath. Before he commenced, there were a few calls he was obligated to make. It would not be easy, but therein lay the reality of what true maturity actually embodied. It was time he halted this inane need to hide behind his mama’s skirts and acted the man of twenty-five he was. Hard truths were destined to be faced, not disregarded.
Which is how he found himself not some three quarters of an hour later sitting across from Miss Hemming and her mama in their blue drawing room, fidgeting immensely under the latter's glower.
"Could I perhaps take Miss Hemming around Hyde Park this afternoon?" he inquired.
The young lady looked hopefully at her mama, who nodded her approval. "Yes, though she must take one of her younger sisters with her."
"Mama!" Miss Hemming cried. "Can it not be one of the footmen? Or allow Jeb to ride his horse alongside us?"
Lady Hemming shook her head and stared right at George. "Your brother has many other things to attend to today than to listen to whatever sad tale Lord Hamson has decided you must hear."
George blanched and cleared his throat. Lady Hemming must be a mind reader.
The older woman straightened her skirts. "Or, if you are not inclined to take one of your sisters, you are more than welcome to remain here and allow Lord Hamson to speak now."
"Mama! I have never known you to be like this before. Truly, I shall die of embarrassment."
Her mother gave her a cool glare. "Then I hope you die quickly to spare us all unnecessary farce."
George choked back a chuckle just as Miss Hemming opened her mouth to dispute once more. He leaned over and touched her arm. "Your mother is correct. I have come here to ask forgiveness of you, and it would never do to speak of such things as we rode about Hyde Park, where everyone could witness our conversation."
"George?" Miss Hemming queried as her mama gave a haughty smile and leaned back in her seat.
"I refuse to make this easy for you, young man," she said. “I suggest you make your speech succinct and to the point.”
"I see." He tugged at his collar and then took a deep breath. "Miss Hemming, I have come here to face you directly and let you know that I have enjoyed our time together. However, I have turned my attentions to an attachment I once had, and I find I cannot help myself but hope to restore some of those old feelings."
Miss Hemming looked at him curiously. "Whatever do you mean?"
This was going to be much harder than he anticipated if the chit was going to pretend she had no notion what he was speaking of. "These last few weeks, I have been playing court to you, but I shall now disengage myself and allow other men their chance with you."
CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Miss Hemming's eyes grew distressed and watery.
"Forgive me," George said. "I am sorry, yet I feel it would be much more difficult had I walked away and not shared my intentions with you. I did not plan for my heart to betray me as it has."
"This is a grave hindrance," Lady Hemming said, one hand folding itself on top of the other. "Very grave indeed. Yet, if this is to be the case, we will be the ones who reveal the particulars to the public. It shall be on our reports as to why Mary has preferred to leave you, and not one word of the contrary shall make its presence known to the Ton."
George nodded. "I find that perfectly fair. Paint me as the blackest villain you must, for it is true, I am indeed a sore shambles of a man."
"Lord Hemming will not be contented either. Our dearest daughter has been our highest concern since presenting her to court earlier this year."
Were they implying that he compromised the girl? "I have been all that is gentlemanly in her presence."
"Of course you have, or this would be a wholly different conversation altogether. Nay, our concern is, of course, the rumors that will follow her."
His mother had tried to warn him of this. One could not simply pay court to a young lady and then not come up to scratch. It was just not done. The only thing to make this situation worse would be to have already promised for the girl's hand. Thankfully, he had not done so.
"You really do love her, do you not?" Miss Hemming said, her watery eyes suddenly clear. In their place was an odd look of bewilderment.
"I find I do, yes. And it would be a great disgrace to you had I asked for your hand with these feelings still in place."
"It is a disgrace to leave me as well," she pointed out, but did not harp upon it. "I am all astonishment to think that you would truly toss everything aside for a widow."
Lady Hemming sucked in a large gulp of air. "You are not serious, Mary. He is leaving you to court a widowed woman?" She was not crass enough to say the word “soiled,” but the implication was clear.
George's jaw twitched ever so slightly, and he had to remind himself that he was the one at fault here. They were only repeating the inane beliefs of society.
Lady Hemming refused to meet his gaze, and instead continued to speak directly to her daughter. "It is enough that he would move on with an old friend, but to continue pursuit of a woman who had already slighted him and then buried her husband? ’Tis outrageous!”
There was no need to tarry longer. To imagine the insults was one thing, but to hear them was quite another. "Excuse me, Lady Hemming, Miss Hemming. I thank you for allowing me to call upon you. I fear I nearly forgot an engagement with my mother, and so must be leaving." He stood up.
"I have no doubt your mama is not proud of you right now!" Lady Hemming huffed.
"No, she is not, though I do not answer to my mother.” He bowed swiftly. “I beg your pardon. Thank you again." Then he turned upon his heel and walked through the doorway toward the vestibule. Perhaps it was a very good thing that he cut his losses now. Perhaps a lifetime attached to the Hemming family would not have been as pleasant as he had assumed.
And though he did have an engagement with his mother, it was not until later that evening, when he had offered to help host her annual ball. She was always a perfectionist when it came to her balls—they turned her into a complete general and left her with little time to do anything but prepare the home for guests.
As George was about to head home, he had another thought. He decided to change his mind and brave visiting his mama in the midst of preparations instead. He knew she would not be pleased to see him, as she would be exceptionally busy, but he wanted to guaran
tee that Lady Romney and the new earl and countess received invitations as well. Even if it was last minute, he could not have her slighted by his family.
He passed by his home and headed to Grosvenor Square. Within a trice, he was walking into the house and searching for her. After attempting to discover her whereabouts from more than one servant, he finally located the mad lady up upon a ladder in the ballroom, no less.
"Mother, get down from there before you fall!" His voice echoed through the large chamber full of servants, who all halted and turned toward him.
"Great heavens, child! You nearly frightened me right off this perch. Now come and speak to me like a gentleman ought, and stop that ridiculous shouting."
George put his hands on his hips as he approached. "Whatever are you doing up there?" Indeed, his mother did not know how to stay out of the thick of things. Even he could not fathom standing on a tall ladder in the middle of the room. “Indeed, it looks dreadfully unsafe up there. You must come down.”
"Someone has to stand here and see that all gets put to rights, George. It is much easier to direct everyone when I can see what they are all about."
"Of course it is, Mama, though I do fear for your safety. And in a gown no less."
She sighed and turned toward him. "And so does half the staff, but no one is going to persuade me off this ladder until the ballroom is ready. So either hush your mouth or help the servants if you are troubled over my safety."
"I would if I were not terrified that you would become more exasperated than you already are as soon as I blunder something up."
She laughed. "No doubt you know me well. Now, whatever do you want? ’Tis not like you to show up in the midst of hosting preparation chaos."
"I have come to ask a favor of you."
She glanced over at the chandelier and then called. "Thomas, I wanted the floral wreath around the top of the chandelier, not the bottom. You did not need to come, George. I have already done it."
"You have already done what?" he asked.
"Invited the widow for you, and her family as well."
"You did not!"
"Most certainly I did. As soon as I saw you mooning over her like a calfling, I sent the invite over immediately. That is what you came to ask, is it not?"
"To procure invitations, yes, though I am surprised you have already done so. Have they replied?"
"Of course, dear. This is the Earl of Kettering's ball—one does not simply ignore an invite."
"No, but they could have declined."
"Do you wish to know if your Lady Romney will be in attendance, dear? If so, you need only to ask, and I will reveal the answer."
"You know perfectly well that is what I wish to know."
She chuckled. "You were always the easiest of my sons to get riled up. Yes, she is attending. They accepted a sennight at least."
His chest became warm, and his breathing attempted to tame itself. "Good. It is essential that she feels a part of society once more."
Lady Hamson held on to the ladder and put her other hand on her hip. "I surely hope you do not plan on alienating all of the other lovely ladies and only dancing with her. You are my son—you are expected to do your part."
"Yes, Mother. I promise to behave and dance with the other ladies, though if I do not dance at least a set with Lady Romney, I fear my heart may break."
"Your heart has lasted all these years and been a great beating force for more than one young lady, so do not go about displaying this nonsense. Besides, have you thought of what to do about Miss Hemming yet?"
"I have only just now returned from that deucedly awkward conversation. It was all I could do to stand there and hear their gossip about Lady Romney. Another few minutes, and I would not have been able to hold my temper."
Lady Hamson began to descend the ladder. There was nothing more exciting than idle gabble when one was hosting the same events those gossiped about were attending. "And what happened?" She shooed him away as he attempted to assist her. "I am forty, George. I am not some simpering old lady who needs help all the time."
What foolishness was this? "Mother, you are over sixty! Or need I remind you?"
Her jaw dropped. "George Verl Hamson, if you utter such lies around the staff, I shall have you horsewhipped. Now, head to the drawing room. I will have tea brought in, and you and I shall discuss all that has happened with Miss Hemming and her mama. Even the final preparations for the ball can be postponed for this news."
George sighed. Why were women so difficult? "I cannot stay long. I must be home to prepare for the ball myself."
"So you shall. So you shall. I only ask for a flash of your time. Now run along as I give the last of these instructions, and we will take an opportunity to take respite and cease for a minute or two."
CHAPTER TWENTY:
George helped himself to a few finger sandwiches, as well as some sliced fruit and cold meat as he cooled his heels in his mother's drawing room. He had nearly finished the sandwiches by time she came in.
"Oh, perfect! I see Cook has outdone herself again.” She sat down on the chair nearest him. "I do not know how that woman does it. Never have I had a cook who works such miracles. All of my acquaintances are madly envious—as they ought to be!" Lady Hamson gathered up some meat and fruit from the tea tray upon the small table at her right. "Though I did tell her she could hire as many people as she needed to help with the dinner we have for our guests tonight. No fewer than three turkeys, six pheasants, and eight Guinea fowl, as well as all the other courses. You are remaining for dinner, are you not, George? It will upset my table completely if you did not stay." She passed him a cup and saucer.
He swallowed down a sip of tea. "Of course I am coming. I know your rules well, and I would much rather have my hide intact tomorrow. You are always quick to remind me that you will guarantee not a stitch of my hide is left if I were to abandon you before dinner."
"You are very wise, George." She grinned and then sipped her tea. "I think you will be very happy you have planned to stay, since I am seating you next to Lady Romney throughout the meal."
He nearly dropped his cup. "Are you jesting?"
Lady Hamson set her tea down and placed her hands on her lap. "Anyway, I have an apology to give you. I am doing my best to make amends so as not to harm those you care for."
"Mother?"
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. Indeed, he had never seen her look so unsettled before. When her gaze met his, he was astonished at the depth of emotion he saw within them. "I was cruel to mention Lady Romney in such a light earlier. You were correct to leave me in a huff. I would have done the same, had I come to someone I loved and asked for guidance only to be scorned and my choices mocked."
"Do not be so hard upon yourself. You are not the only one who has such thoughts about her."
"Yes, dear, but I should have been the one to champion you." She reached over and clutched his hand. "I was worried for you and did not want to see you throw away your future. In my own conceit, I had forgotten you were a grown man, wise enough to make your own decisions."
He looked down at their joined hands. "Nay, not very wise. I fear I harmed her most bitterly."
"George, no!" She squeezed his fingers. "Did you tell her what had been said?"
"Only that others were saying it, not whom."
She shook her head. "I feel so much worse now. The poor dear. How did she react?"
"With more grace than anyone I know." His gaze connected with hers. "Yet that is not all. Indeed, it is much worse." He did not know how he was to bring up the details of her marriage, but he felt his mother must understand this small portion. "I fear the old earl never touched her. Not once.”"
She gasped. "No." She sat still for some time, contemplating that little bit of information, and gave a tiny shake of her head. A frown formed upon her lips. "George, you no doubt know more of the situation, and I applaud you for not revealing it all to me. I cannot imagine what this young la
dy has gone through, but it grieves me more to hear of her innocence and my heartlessness in assuming otherwise."
"Mother, my feelings for Miss Poleton—nay, Lady Romney—grow deeper and more eagerly real than even I was willing to acknowledge. I care for her, yet she does not desire to marry again. She wishes to hide herself away and protect those she loves, to buy a house and live alone forever.”
"She needs you, my son."
"Aye, she does. However, she is headstrong, and will require a lot of coaxing into seeing herself and all the good that she is."
"Will you forgive me, George?"
“Of course. I have found that life is not about what one's neighbor thinks of you, but how you are willing to think of another."
"This is the point where I mock you and say—do not repeat such nonsense again. Yet, I wonder, my boy, if you have not uncovered something much more kind and meaningful than society would have you believe. Can you imagine such charity? If we all stopped looking so outwardly? Why, all of London could become a much more joyful place."
"Ironically, I do not think this about London. No, I merely see the error of my ways and the cruelties of my words, thoughts, and actions. Because of me, there is an incredibly wonderful lady who feels less of herself than she should." He cleared his throat and let out a breath of air. "It makes me see life on a grander scale. A much less selfish scale, as well, for when would I have ever looked past my own broken heart to see hers?"
"Oh, George. You are deliberating very strongly on this, are you not?"
"My heart has thought of nothing else at the moment. It has struggled with this a fortnight at least. Truly, before she came back into my life, I only pitied myself and my loss of her. Never once did I worry about her and her existence and what horrors she must be facing." He suddenly stood up. "Mother, I am afraid to admit I was envious of the earl, but I could not look past my own egotism to see her fears and worries, or even how much she might have missed me and dreaded the decision she was forced to make."