Chapter 13

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In seven grueling hours Georgia would finally meet her benefactor. Nettie was almost as excited as she, but Sir John kept a cautious reserve. He certainly would not have been pleased with her if he knew of the other letters Monsieur Rossignol sent her or the one she sent that simply read:

Are you my poet?

At breakfast, she was eager to see Bernardo and what he might have for her. To her annoyance, he arrived late to their apartment, causing her anxiety to fester. When he finally arrived he bowed to the three of them and offered his apologies.

Bernardo appeared flustered and annoyed but claimed it was due to the impending ball. There were additional tasks that he was obligated to see too, although he would not say what those obligations were. He straightened his tailcoat and then handed Georgia the note she was so eager to possess.

Georgia went to tuck the note away when Sir John stopped her. Finally exercising the rights he had over her as her guardian, he demanded to know what the note contained. Georgia blanched. What if the note was from her poet? She had not yet told Sir John of her nightly visitor, how could she? What if this note contained the reminders of their secret kisses? Their longing for one another? Worse yet! What if Rossignol wasn't her poet and grew angry with her for her secret rendezvous?

Sir John, however, grew annoyed that she sat before him pale as a ghost and showing no signs of obeying him. He demanded once more to see the note, unaware of her internal struggle. His calm reserve was fading fast. Sir John had given more than he had ever expected and all he asked in return was that she honor her father's memory and be happy. How could she then sneak around like a commoner, with no sense of propriety? How could she let a strange man lead her astray? It cut him deeply at the thought of how distraught her father would be.

"It simply says 'I shall see you tonight at the ball'. See for yourself, Sir John. Nothing else." The taste in her mouth was bitter. She had one chance to write him and it was wasted. The mystery wouldn't be solved until later. She cast her eyes to the window and frowned at the weak sun as Sir John read the note; night seemed so far away.

"So it does. For your blessed father's sake, conduct yourself in the manner of a woman of your station. I will not—" he stopped for a moment to try and control his temper "— have you subjected to the open ridicule and gossip that I faced in England. Bernardo! These notes are to stop until Signor Rossignol presents himself to me and declares his intention for Georgia. And Georgia," he added with a cold look. "You are to turn over his other notes. Any felicitations that I deem unpardonable will be the end of this trip and our relationship with Signor Rossignol."

Sir John was angrier than she had ever seen him. Why would he turn from what Rossignol offered to them? She was willing to seal her heart for the Frenchman offering them safety and security. She was willing to pretend to love Rossignol when her heart belonged to her poet if it meant that Sir John would not be ruined and if it meant that they would be safe. Why was he unwilling to compromise? With as much wealth as Rossignol claimed to have the nobles in England would flock to Sir John, they might even forget what caused Sir John's fall from grace.

"People say and do cruel things to others simply for a laugh, Georgia. I do not want you to be taken advantage of. I spent my life hiding and it brought you to ruin. I need honesty from Rossignol in order to honor your father's wishes."

Silence fell on the three of them before Georgia turned to Bernardo. "Signor, will you bring us tea? Coffee keeps us alert, but is ineffective in quieting our nerves."

Bernardo nodded, bowed, and left. The weight of the room he quitted was immense and threatened to bring their apartment down on the one below. There was nothing they could do to amend the past so their thoughts turned to the present. Georgia rose from her seat and left to collect the other notes Rossignol had written to her.

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