Regency Mistresses: A Practical Mistress / The Wanton Bride. Mary Brendan
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time for everything. Heavens! I hope he has not come to ask for his money back,’ Helen muttered, not wholly joking. ‘He might have been in his cups when the guilty feelings took hold of him.’ Stepping back from the door Helen instructed Betty to deal with the delivery while she and Charlotte went to the parlour to receive their brother.
George had barely stepped into the room, his hand hovering at his coat buttons, when Helen burst out, ‘Why have you done such a stupid thing, George? You have paid cash? Cash?’ she stressed angrily. ‘Did it not occur to you that half of what you have spent on fuel might have been used for food? Do you think we might eat coal? And I am quite capable … as ever I have been … of ordering in my own supplies. I know what we need better than do you. Had you given the money to me, I would have used it far more wisely and—’
‘What in God’s name are you going on about?’ George demanded. ‘If you think that coalman is my doing, you are very much mistaken.’
Helen looked amazed, then distraught. As the consequences of what she had heard penetrated her mind, she dashed to the door. ‘I knew it! It is the wrong house,’ she muttered, appalled at the knowledge that the merchant would be in no mood to want to remove his wares from her bunker.
George caught at her arm as she made to fly past him. ‘I doubt it is the wrong house and, if it is, it is that fellow’s error, not yours.’
Helen saw in her brother’s eyes a gleam of something akin to amused satisfaction. She was further convinced he was pleased with himself when he gave her a bright smile. Helen chewed at her lip. Past experience had taught her that it boded ill when George looked smug.
‘Do you know more of this than you are letting on, George?’
George recommenced unbuttoning his coat and seemed about to shrug it off. As though suddenly conscious of the chill in the room, he pulled the woollen lapels together to cover his chest. Dropping his hat and gloves on to the table, he informed her with a slanting glance, ‘Sir Jason Hunter came to see me earlier in the week.’
Helen felt her complexion heating beneath her brother’s significant stare. Helen was aware of Charlotte’s mystified frown at their brother’s odd declaration. She had not mentioned to her sister anything about her meeting with Sir Jason. The opportunity to improve Philip’s prospects had been forgotten and she felt rather guilty about that.
‘Mr Goode and Miss Goode are arrived, ma’am.’ Betty had again appeared in the doorway.
Charlotte immediately smiled shy pleasure at that news, unaware that her brother had muttered disparagingly beneath his breath on learning who were the visitors.
Helen was well aware that George had little time for Philip. On the few occasions they had come together at Westlea House in the past, George had made little effort to be friendly.
Once ushered into the room, Philip bowed courteously to the ladies, then immediately strode towards George and extended a hand. ‘We have not met in some while, sir. It is good to see you.’
With scant enthusiasm in his greeting, George briefly shook hands before withdrawing and striding to take up position by the empty grate.
Undisturbed, Philip drew forward his sister, Anne, and introduced her to George. George managed an approximation of a bow to the plain young woman before drumming his fingers on the mantelshelf.
Anne Goode blinked rapidly, sensitive to the snub. Philip took his younger sister’s arm and patted it into place on his sleeve, his smile still present.
Helen felt her temper rising at her brother’s churlishness. Quickly she said, ‘How nice to see you both. I had no idea you were to call by.’ Helen slid a look at Charlotte to see her sister blush.
Philip might manage to appear impervious to George’s moods, but he was unable to ignore his beloved’s consternation. Quickly he said, ‘Oh it was not arranged. Anne and I just thought to call and ask if you would like to take a ride. It is a sunny day and quite warm too.’ He looked expectantly at Charlotte, who immediately gave a little nod. Gallantly Philip turned his attention to Helen. ‘And you, Mrs Marlowe?
‘I thank you, no,’ Helen said. ‘I have a few matters to attend to.’ She gave her boorish brother a sharp glance. ‘By all means get your coat and so on,’ she told Charlotte. ‘There is nothing much to keep you here this afternoon.’
Without further prompting, Charlotte quit the room.
Having watched her go, Philip cast a nervous glance at George. He suddenly took a deep, inspiriting breath and stepped away from his sister.
Helen drew Anne into a little chat, but was nevertheless more interested in hearing the intense speech to one side of her.
‘I wonder if I might beg leave to visit, sir,’ Philip began in a voice that shook slightly with emotion. ‘For some time I have been meaning to come and see you on a matter that is very dear to my heart …’
George shoved away from the mantel against which he had been lounging and interrupted Philip in a voice that was cold and clipped. ‘You can find me at my club, sir, most afternoons.’
This time Philip blushed to the roots of his fair hair at such an obvious rebuff. He managed a stiff bow before removing himself to hover close to the door. Within a moment Charlotte appeared. ‘I am ready … shall we go?’ she said quietly, having noticed from Philip’s bright complexion that all was not well.
Once the trio had departed, leaving Helen and George alone, Helen rounded on her brother. ‘I cannot believe that you acted so rudely.’
‘And I cannot believe that the man has the effrontery to want to bother me at home to ask for my sister’s hand in marriage. He has nothing. You only have to look at him to see that!’ He barked a laugh. ‘His shirt cuff! Did you see it? Frayed!’
‘Like this, you mean?’ Helen snapped and yanked down one of her own cotton sleeves for his inspection. ‘Philip’s sister cannot have offended you, yet you treated her with the same lack of manners.’
George tersely flicked away Helen’s furious accusations and turned his back on her.
‘I am ashamed of you, George. It is getting to the stage when I am loath to admit, even to myself, that we are related, for I am not sure that I like you.’
George pivoted back to glare at her. ‘I do not want Charlotte seeing him any more. Make that clear to her or I will make it clear to him. And, as you have just noticed, I shall not stand on ceremony when I do so.’ His face was livid when he added, ‘I am sick of the burden of two ungrateful sisters to support. I will never countenance being saddled with a good-for-nothing brother-in-law, too.’
‘I wish Charlotte had gained her majority and you no longer had power over her life.’
‘She is nineteen and I am her guardian. She can do far better than marry him. In fact, perhaps she has already done so.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean that I would hazard a guess that she has caught the eye of an extremely eligible gentleman. I would go so far as to say that it is to that particular wealthy gentleman you are obliged for that delivery of coal.’
Chapter Six
‘You are talking in riddles, George. Charlotte knows no extremely eligible gentleman. We do not frequent places where she might meet such a person.’
‘She has not needed to go anywhere. Recently a man came here, did he not?’ On observing Helen’s startled look, he added, ‘There’s no use in denying it, I’ve had the news firsthand.’
‘Has Sir Jason Hunter asked you if he may propose to Charlotte?’ Anticipating a dilatory response Helen came to her own scornful conclusion. ‘I know he has not; but you’d like to make me think differently, wouldn’t you? You might not like Philip, but this is truly absurd, George!’ Helen’s large golden eyes demanded a retraction from