Miss Darby's Duenna Read Free Page A

with his mama’s poor nerves, Sir Harry recognized the futility of opposing this argument. “What of Grandmama, then? Perhaps she might be persuaded to take Georgie in hand.”
    “Your grandmother? Bah!” scoffed his fond parent. “Why, she abandoned London for Bath fifty years ago, and she hasn’t set foot outside her lodgings in twenty years—not even for your poor father’s funeral, God rest his soul.”
    “But why should she?” protested Georgina. “You must admit, Mama, there was very little she could have done.”
    But this argument, however reasonable, found no favor with the widow. “In times of bereavement, one’s proper place is with one’s Family. There is nothing like the presence of one’s nearest and dearest to give one comfort.”
    “Perhaps she didn’t consider us near and dear,” pointed out Georgina with youthful candor. “After all, Papa only visited Bath twice a year, and we rarely accompanied him. Indeed, I can scarcely remember Grandmama at all—although I do recall that she bore a most striking resemblance to you, Harry.”
    “A handsome old girl, in fact” was Sir Harry’s irreverent observation.
    Actually, the resemblance between Sir Harry and his paternal grandmother was often remarked upon by those who were acquainted with both the dowager and the current baronet.  The likeness was generally felt to be a fortuitous one, since the dowager Lady Hawthorne was the daughter of a viscount and bore the physical stamp of her illustrious lineage. To be sure, she would be an impressive patroness for any young girl making her come-out—or she would have been, had she not long since elected to cloister herself in her Laura Place lodgings.
    “Failing Grandmama, I’ve another idea,” continued Sir Harry, undaunted. “Olivia is to be brought out this spring; perhaps Mrs. Darby would be willing to take Georgina on, too—with all expenses to be paid by me, of course.”
    “An excellent notion,” nodded his mama in approval, warming to the scheme now that it seemed unlikely to cut up her peace in any way. “You must enlist Miss Darby’s aid in bringing her about. Georgina, my dear, you would not object to visiting London in Miss Darby’s company, would you, now that you are to be sisters?”
    “Not at all, Mama. In fact, James has the greatest admiration for Olivia. He said that he admired her good sense, and that he hoped she would be a settling influence on you, Harry,” she added, not without satisfaction.
    “I say!” cried that young man, eyes open wide in alarm. “When I settle down, it will be by my own choice, and not through the machinations of some cursed interfering female!”
    “That is not at all a proper way to speak of your affianced bride, Harry,” scolded his mama.
    Thus chastised, Sir Harry had the grace to look ashamed. “You are quite right. Mama, and I beg your pardon. I am a fortunate man to have Olivia for my bride. Besides,” he added with a rush of affection for his betrothed, “Livvy ain’t the type to begrudge a fellow his pleasures.”
     

Chapter Two
     
    London, thou art the flower of Cities all. WILLIAM DUNBAR, London
     
    For Miss Olivia Darby, the next two months flew by in a blur of preparations for her London debut. The local dressmaker was summoned to take Miss Darby’s measurements for the vast wardrobe which, according to her mama, was de rigueur for a Season in Town. When she was not submitting to endless fittings, Olivia was enlisted to aid her mother in writing to all that lady’s London acquaintances, in the hopes of exploiting these connections to her daughter’s advantage. But of her affianced bridegroom Olivia saw little, for Sir Harry, upon learning of Mrs. Darby’s intention to hire lodgings in Upper Wimpole Street, objected to seeing his future bride installed at such a démodé address, and insisted upon offering Mrs. Darby the use of the Hawthornes’ town house in Curzon Street, while he (he said) would content himself