Page 56 of Otters and Obstacles
Peter rose to his feet. He should have realized a man as desperate as Sir John would not leave quietly. Not when he thought he could steal the otters and salvage his standing with the Prince Regent.
With a sigh, he rubbed his hands over his face. Georgie could not stay with Mrs. Clarke now. She and the otters would be better protected here at the rectory. Much as he wanted to give her more time to forgive him, he could not put her and the animals she loved at risk.
He needed a way to persuade her to come home, and the only one he could think of was the one he dreaded most: apologize to her.
Apologize and explain actions even he was not completely certain he understood. And hope she was willing to soften enough to allow him to bring her home and prove he would never hurt her the same way again.
By lunchtime,it was clear that Mrs. Clarke was thoroughly exasperated. As they entered the drawing room after their meal, Georgie found herself on the receiving end of an uncharacteristically irate glare from her friend when the otters pushed their way through the door as the two women tried to enter, nearly knocking Mrs. Clarke from her feet.
“My dear Lady Peter,youof course may stay for as long as you wish. However, theseanimalsof yours…”
Georgie sighed. “Yes, of course.” Unfortunately, Mrs. Clarke’s cottage was far smaller than the rectory, so one found oneself tripping over another otter just as one recovered from the first near-accident. Unsettled by their relocation, the otters swarmed Georgie whenever she moved from place to place, putting herself, the otters, and everyone around them in peril.
The otters must return home even if she herself was not ready to. After Peter’s careless rejection of her, Georgie was unsure she could ever return to the rectory and the memories it held.
Though she hadn’t much choice in that. She had nowhere else she could go. Her friends were kind, but if Peter decided to demand her return, they would not be able to help her without facing legal consequences.
Not that he would demand such a thing. If she insisted they must separate, he would let her go out of kindness.
That perhaps hurt most of all.
Pushing the dark thoughts away, Georgie nodded. “I shall write a note to... to Lord Peter and request that he come get them today.”
Mrs. Clarke relaxed and smiled at her. “Perhaps it would be a good opportunity for you to speak with Lord Peter.”
Georgie’s heart stuttered to a stop. She could not face him yet. Shecouldn’t.
“Oh, my dear! It was merely a suggestion. Quickly, sit down before you faint.”
She all but fell onto the nearest settee, the otters immediately leaping from the floor into her lap. Betsy leaned against Georgie’s chest, paws reaching up to her face as she chirped. Georgie stroked the animal’s head until Betsy settled back down, curling up in Georgie’s lap with her sisters, who were already half-asleep.
Mrs. Clarke sat across from her and sighed. “Once again, my dear, I feel I must stand in place of your own mama.”
Georgie had not fully felt that raw ache of needing her mother’s advice until Mrs. Clarke said the words. She would give anything—even her otters—to have Mama here to counsel her.
Mrs. Clarke reached out and squeezed Georgie’s hand where it lay on the arm of the settee. Bonny half-opened a suspicious eye and then settled herself more firmly into sleep atop her sisters.
“I shall not make any excuses for him. He is a grown man and must do that himself. But I have seen how you are together, and I sincerely believe this was a foolish mistake on his part, not a malicious act. If you can discuss it like adults, I hope and pray you can repair the damage.”
Georgie’s head remained bowed, but the knowledge that the older woman cared enough to advise her warmed her heart. Having Mrs. Clarke was not the same as having her own mother, but that lack made her appreciate her friend all the more.
She swallowed hard and looked up with a wobbly smile on her face. “Thank you, Mrs. Clarke. I will consider your advice.”
The older woman beamed at her, though still with an edge of worry. “Mind you, this is not advice to swallow your feelings down and accept his treatment of you. If he still doesn’t understand his error even after you discuss it, well… Well, then we shall figure something out, yes?”
There was a sharp rap on the drawing room door before Molly opened it. “Lord Peter is here, ma’am. Do you want to see him?” Her look and tone aptly conveyed she thought Peter ought to be sent away with a flea in his ear.
Mrs. Clarke looked at Georgie. “Well, my dear?”
Georgie took a deep breath and said, “You may show him in, Molly.”
With a scowl, Molly stepped back and said over her shoulder, “She’ll see you, I suppose.”
Peter appeared in the doorway so promptly that he must have been hovering nearby for the answer. He had clearly taken pains with his appearance that morning, dressed in a superfine dark green morning coat with fawn trousers and boots so polished, Georgie could faintly see the reflection of the ceiling in them.
He could have been making a morning call in London, and his magnificence only made her feel the divide between them with a sharper pain.
When he saw Georgie, his beloved face blazed with hope for a moment before he swept her a low, respectful bow. “Good afternoon, Georgie.” He held his hand out to her, but dropped it again when she did not react. His shoulders drooped a little, and she hardened her heart.
