Love’s Betrayal (30 page)

Sometime later, while Georgette sat on her window seat, gazing blankly at a book, her mother's call rang down the hallway. “Georgette? Come here, child.” Georgette rose, shifting Caramel from her lap to the cushions. He snored on.

As she entered her mother's chambers, Georgette crossed paths with her beaming father. He patted her cheek and winked. “Good girl.” Grateful for his rare approval, she smiled.

Her mother sat up against a silk-padded headboard, her abundant hair cascading over plump shoulders. A wrap supporting her chin tied in a knot above her forehead. Ribbons on her cap rustled as she nodded and smiled. “You look well this morning.”

Her mother's mornings began and ended late.

“Thank you,” Georgette said.

“It appears that, despite your unfortunate illness, your appearance the other night was adequate to attract a serious offer for your hand. So you see, the stays served their purpose. Your father and I could not be more delighted.” Her blue eyes glowed. “Think of it! Your sister's husband comes of good family and has excellent prospects, but he lacks the wealth of your Mr. LaTournay.”

“I care nothing for wealth. I would marry for love, Mother.” Her chest felt tight.
He asked! He truly asked for my hand in marriage!

Her mother babbled on. “Juliette must economize, but you? Never! I shall plan your trousseau immediately, for there is no time to waste. As you know, our finances have been somewhat strained of late, but your betrothed promises to pay for anything you need. How thrilling to have my daughter snare such a catch! Although I had suspected an attachment earlier, I knew for certain Saturday night. I told Victoria Grenville that he was enthralled with you, and now I am proven correct. He could scarcely take his eyes off you even as you danced with other men, and I do not believe he asked more than one or two other ladies to dance all evening. Of course, he might have done so after we were obliged to leave, but it matters not, for you are the lucky maiden he chose as his bride!”

Georgette barely heard her mother's ravings while her thoughts and heart waged war. Her logical mind found voice. “I cannot believe that you and Papa would sacrifice your daughter to an immoral man.”

“What nonsense!” she said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and flinging on her bedgown. “You will marry him and do it with becoming modesty.”

“I would rather die.”

An outright lie, and her mother knew it, for her lips curved. “You should run away to the stage, my dear. Perhaps your father is right and I have spoiled you. A dutiful daughter will yield to the greater understanding of her elders and marry the suitor they select for her.”

“Loving parents would not select a suitor whose behavior the daughter finds disgusting.” Georgette did not have to fake the break in her voice.

“Child, you speak of things outside your understanding. Mr. LaTournay is no better and no worse a man than any other. You cannot be immune to his melancholy eyes? And such legs and shoulders! Were I but ten years younger, I should contend for the fellow myself! If you care anything for the honor of the Talbot name, and I believe you do, you will obey as a dutiful daughter should. The wedding will take place as soon as decently possible, and that is the end of the matter.”

Georgette looked up from the book she was reading. Her mother stood in the doorway. “Your father is away, and I am leaving for the church, dearest girl. Unforeseen difficulty has arisen regarding your wedding. Dr. Inglis is being unreasonable about the entire affair because of Mr. LaTournay's Catholic baptism, and I fear we shall have to convince another minister to perform the ceremony. One would think that in a progressive city like New York, a minister would not be so bound by tradition.”

“He is Catholic?” Such a thing had never occurred to Georgette. Placing her book on the window seat, she rose, picked up Caramel, and strolled about the room. “If Dr. Inglis disapproves, should it not be taken as proof that this marriage is disapproved by God?”

Her mother shook her head. “Mr. LaTournay is a Christian, Georgette. I do not believe he is active in religion of any kind, so what should it matter to you? He has agreed that your children shall be baptized in the church of your choice.”

Georgette decided she would prefer to know the worst. After placing Caramel on the floor, she confronted her mother directly. “Does Mr. LaTournay wish to marry me, or is Father forcing him into marriage using some threat?”

Her mother appeared insulted. “To say such a thing about your own father! Why must you disparage your charms, my child? Mr. LaTournay desires to marry you, and that is all you need to know.”

Covering her mouth with one hand and holding her elbow with the other, Georgette shook her head. “The entire affair is distasteful, and I cannot comprehend why you and Papa seem pleased. Mr. LaTournay may plan to take over the Talbot estates or Papa's business.”

“Stop hiding your mouth, speak clearly, and stand up straight. If you would cease questioning everyone's motives, life would be much happier for all of us.” Without meeting her daughter's eye, she closed the door.

Biddy brought up a calling card moments later. “A lady to see you, missy.”

Georgette read the name. “Lady Forester? Are you certain she wishes to see me?”

“She said your name clear enough, missy.”

“I shall come down directly.” Her thoughts spinning, Georgette checked her reflection in the mirror and hurried downstairs.

“She is in the parlor,” Biddy whispered in passing. Squaring her shoulders, Georgette nodded at the wrinkled little woman.

Lady Forester turned as Georgette entered the room. Her bright green eyes blinked in evident surprise. “Miss Talbot?”

Georgette's heart gave a jolt of recognition. “Yes?”

At first glance, the woman was stunning—voluptuous figure, raven hair, those amazing eyes, and a low voice. Yet as light from the parlor windows touched the lady's face, Georgette saw that her skin was rough.

The hint of a sneer curled Lady Forester's mouth. “I cannot believe it. There must be more to the tale than I am aware.”

“Madam?” Georgette began to suspect the woman's purpose, and anger heated her face.

“LaTournay must have some ulterior motive for choosing you as his bride. Perhaps he wishes to allay my husband's suspicions.” She perused Georgette's figure.

“If you intend only to insult me, I must request you to leave.” Georgette spoke through clenched teeth.

“I came in kindness to warn you. LaTournay may avow fidelity, but he will not keep that promise. Such a man can never satisfy his needs with one ordinary woman.” Her tone implied that she, Lady Forester, transcended the common female.

The parlor door opened and Biddy announced, “Miss Grenville to see you, miss.”

Georgette had never been more pleased to see Marianne's angelic face. “Madam, have you met Miss Grenville? Marianne, Lady Forester. She is just leaving.”

Lady Forester's lips disappeared into a tight line. Angry red blotches marred her complexion. Lifting her skirts, she brushed past Georgette.

As the front door closed with a thud, Marianne looked puzzled. “Did my arrival anger her, Gigi?”

“She was angry before she arrived,” Georgette answered. “I am overjoyed to see you, dearest friend. You rescued me from a most unpleasant encounter. I thought the woman might rend me with her claws as well as her tongue.”

Marianne's cheeks turned pink, and her eyes expressed sympathy. “She came concerning your betrothal to Mr. LaTournay. Word of the match has spread throughout town. I pray you are happy, Gigi.”

“Come.” Georgette linked her arm through Marianne's and led her into the garden. The girls strolled between beds of sprouting perennials. “What have you heard?” Georgette asked after a thoughtful silence.

“Only that the banns would soon be read for your engagement. Gigi, I have news of my own.”

Grateful for the change of subject, Georgette brightened. “Tell all.”

“Mr. Pringle has been calling upon me, and Papa has given permission for us to court. Yesterday Mr. Pringle took me riding into the country in his chaise. He tucked the lap robe around me and worried lest I take a chill. Imagine! The day was balmy.” Marianne giggled. “His voice gives me the shivers, so sweet and mellow. Oh Gigi, I have admired him for years. Never dared I believe that he might notice me!”

“I am happy for you.”

“And are you happy?” Marianne's gentle blue eyes held concern.

“I shall never know happiness again unless God provides a way to escape this nightmare.”

“Gigi, you mustn't say such things. God cares for our needs, and He wants to fulfill our desires, but sometimes we desire wrong things. We need to have our hearts in tune with His perfect will.”

Georgette gave a sharp laugh. “My parents pledge me to a soulless rake, and I am to see this as God's will?”

Marianne cringed yet refused to yield. “I think you should start asking God to give you love for Mr. LaTournay. God can use a wife's godly example to bring her husband to Himself. Mama says she did not love Papa when she married him, but she prayed to love him, and now she cannot imagine life without him. They adore each other.”

“But your father is a good man. If your mother did not love him, at least she did not despise him when they married. Do you know why that Forester woman came to see me? She told me that Mr. LaTournay will still be hers even after I marry him.”

Marianne looked wise. “That is what she wants to believe. I know better. Mr. LaTournay adores you, Gigi. You have the advantage over Lady Forester, no matter what hurtful things she says. Your love will make him forget her entirely.”

Tears burned Georgette's eyes as longing burned her soul. Turning away, she covered her face with both hands. “I confess—I wish that were true. But never will I be able to trust him. He travels to the city often, Marianne, and she will be here waiting for him. I do not want to share my husband with anyone. I cannot marry him. I simply cannot!”

Marianne wrapped her in a tender hug. “If you refuse even to try to love him, all hope of happiness is gone. How my heart aches for you, Gigi!”

Arms about each other's waists, the two girls circled the garden at a slow pace, heads bowed.

Georgette sighed. “Very well. I shall attempt praying to love him.”

Mr. LaTournay joined the Talbots for dinner that evening. Georgette picked at her food and kept her gaze lowered while the men talked politics. More than once her parents tried to draw her into the strained conversation. When these efforts produced no response, she sensed their perplexity escalating into irritation.

Mr. LaTournay's presence was like an ache in her soul. Sorrow blocked her throat.

“Tell us about your home, Mr. LaTournay,” her mother demanded. “Do you have servants?”

“There are many people living on the farm. Our servants work for hire; we keep no slaves. All speak at least some English, and several have children. We also have frequent guests drop in at Haven Farm. My wife will not lack for company when I am away on business.”

Georgette winced inwardly.

“Haven Farm,” her mother repeated. “How charming. Did you name it?”

“My grandfather, Piers Vanderhaven, settled the land and chose its name.”

“Did you grow up there?” Georgette's father spoke around a mouthful of food.

“My mother was born on the farm,” Mr. LaTournay said. “My grandmother died when my mother was born, and Grandfather never remarried. He left Haven Farm to me and my sister, Francine.”

“So your mother was Dutch?”

“My grandfather was Dutch, but my mother's mother was French, as was my father.” He sounded uneasy.

Georgette sensed displeasure emanating from her parents.

“You seem so English,” her mother said.

“Neither France nor Quebec claims my loyalty. New York is my home, and it receives my allegiance.”