Winning the Wallflower’s Heart (Revenge of the Wallflowers #46)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

London 1809

Georgiana huddled closer against the stable as snow fluttered down from the sky. Winter robbed London of light early, almost as unforgiving as the bitter cold. She tucked her feet tighter beneath her skirts and shivered.

She wiped the tears on her cheeks, wincing at the ache in her fingertips.

Two hours now, and the door remained locked. Shut out.

Candlelight began to flicker inside of Pickins House. Warm and inviting. Her bed close but unreachable.

She raised her hands to her mouth and softly blew against her frozen fingertips, wincing as the warmth sent a stabbing pain down her hand.

So cold.

This wasn’t the first time her father and brother shut her out of their home. But today, when a snowstorm had swept into London, it seemed particularly cruel.

Large snowflakes swirled in the air then, sticking to her eyelashes and hair. She wrapped her shawl around her, but it was no use.

It hurt to stand, so slowly she unwrapped her body and crawled through the stable door.

The stable hand had been sacked a year ago now. And the carriage and horse were currently gone. Lost in a bet.

The straw was likely dirty, but at least she could be inside, away from the falling snow.

Georgiana tugged on the door, crying out when it wouldn’t budge. She tried one more time, relieved when it finally slipped open, and she was able to squeeze herself inside. She brushed off the snow, crawled into the first stall, and rested her head against the rough boards.

A large noise rumbled outside. Georgiana pressed up against the stable, too tired and cold to care.

But moments later—or hours, she wasn’t certain—a shadow stretched tall above her.

“How long have you been here?”

The voice was warm, kind, nothing like her brother or father. They yelled too often.

A hand stretched out next as Georgiana fought to open her eyes. So cold…

“You can’t stay out here. You’ll freeze.”

Georgiana tried to nod, but she wasn’t sure she could move anymore. As though he understood, the stranger approached.

“I’ll help.” He shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her.

At first, the heat hurt, like stabbing herself with an embroidery needle over and over again. But the jacket smelled like oranges and pine, like Christmastide.

“I’m going to lift you up now,” the stranger said. “I’ll carry you inside so you can warm up. It’s too damn cold to be out on a night like this, Georgie.”

No one called her that. Most days, it felt like no one knew she was around.

But when he leaned close, she realized he wasn’t a stranger, but her older brother’s friend, Ellis Linfield.

She wished she had been left alone to freeze rather than feel him lift her in his arms.

They stepped outside, and he drew her close. She told herself she shouldn’t, but she nuzzled against his fine silk vest, met his hard chest.

She had been in love with him for years now.

A man such as Ellis Linfield. Handsome and strong, and so much older than her.

He pounded on the door until Georgiana heard her brother call out on the other side. The door pulled open, and Georgiana, in that moment, wished to be back huddled against the stable in the snow rather than face her brother.

Anywhere but in Ellis’s arms.

“Ho, Linny! You finally—why are you holding my sister?”

The way his words slurred made her stomach sour. Georgiana kept her eyes closed, much too afraid to peek, but she still felt the world tip, nonetheless, and spin her into chaos.

“She’s freezing, you daft idiot.” Ellis pushed past her brother and strode into their home. “Where’s her room? Call her maid!”

“Well, you know we’ve not had much luck at the tables lately. So… the help’s been let go.”

Georgiana pressed tighter against Ellis, refusing to open her eyes.

“Her room, then. Now .”

“Bloody hell, Linny. She’ll be fine, she?—”

Georgiana peeked at her brother through one cracked eyelid, just long enough to see him rake his hand through his auburn hair and the red flush across his cheeks. He refused to cut his hair these past few months, boasting a ballerina complimented him at a party earlier that fall. It hung around his face in the most unflattering way, making his dark brown eyes appear cagey and drawing focus on his thin, wide mouth.

“She can barely talk, Sam.”

“My sister never speaks. She must have been wandering around and was locked out. It was an accident.”

The room went silent, and then she heard the sharp crack of wood splintering—a chair kicked hard against the wall. Even with her eyes shut, she felt the heat of Ellis’s fury rush around her like a roaring fire.

“She’s bloody freezing.” He bent his head down, his mouth close to her. “Where’s your room, Georgie? Tell me, and I’ll see you warm.”

She hadn’t been allowed a fire in her room for the past month, and it had been a frigid January. But nothing was as horrible as the fear that gripped her then. At the anticipation of what would happen once Ellis left her behind. Her father yelling, her brother sneering at her or throwing something in her direction. The threat of a hand or a belt if she disobeyed.

“Open your eyes, Kitten.”

Georgiana swallowed, then slowly opened her eyes, met by his striking gray-green gaze. He was seven years older, a man circling the marriage mart of London, and she was… well, she was that poor girl. The quiet, strange creature. Fifteen years old and now hopelessly in love with Ellis Linfield, her older brother’s best friend.

“Put me down, please,” she whispered instead, not wanting any more attention. Pulling herself away from his warmth and notice.

Leaving him behind because it was for the best.

A man like Ellis Linfield would never love her. Her brother and father certainly didn’t.