Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
Georgiana stood at the foot of her bed, staring at the two dresses laid out before her—one a vivid scarlet red, the other, the softest pink.
“Go on now, pick,” Esther urged from behind her.
Georgiana scratched at her shoulder, already hating the lace on her stays, even if they did help enhance her bust.
“Well, the red is lovely,” she said. “Gorgeous, really.” She thought Ellis would love that, but she kept that bit to herself. “But I can’t stand the thought of walking into a London ballroom in a red dress.”
“All the more reason to wear it, darling,” Hester said, scooping up the dress and holding it up to Georgiana’s frame. “It’s beautiful on ye.”
Georgiana took her hand and pushed it away. “It’s scandalous, Esther. I don’t want to be in the gossip rags tomorrow.”
“And what will they say?” Esther asked. “That you wore a dress? A red dress? Is that all they have to say?”
Georgiana sighed. She was much more comfortable hidden along the ballroom walls, away from the prying eyes and gossiping matrons. But she knew, even as others reassured her, there would be talk of her in the ballroom that evening, making her first public appearance with her husband, one of the most powerful men in all of London. She knew he’d be walking into a room where many men owed their financial lives to him. Power had a funny way of corrupting a man’s mind.
“The pink,” she said. “The pink. Let’s put it on. It’s almost time for us to leave.”
Esther clucked her tongue. “One day, dearest, you won’t be so afraid to shine bright in this world.”
Georgiana paused, knitting her brows. “I’m not afraid.”
“Ye’ve spent too much of your life, darling, making yerself small, hiding away. And for what? Ye are a brilliant soul.” Hester cupped her cheek against her soft palm. “And ye put Ellis in his place nicely. Now, let’s go. ‘urry up.”
Georgiana chuckled to herself as the two older women helped her into her gown, tying the back and the waist, slipping one hook in place, and cinching the ribbon around her waist. It was a beautiful, pink-striped linen with ruffled sleeves adorned with blonde lace. The hem of her skirts was also trimmed in the same beautiful lace. She glanced at herself in the mirror, swirling left then right, loving how the skirts swished around her feet.
Then she groaned and flopped back onto her bed.
“No!” the women cried. “No, no, stand up, Georgiana. Your hair.”
“I can’t do this,” she declared.
“Oh, you sweet thing,” Hester said. “You’ll be fine. But if you crush your hair after I’ve just spent the last hour curling, I swear to heaven?—”
“Don’t you dare insult her!” Esther chided.
The two women began bickering playfully, laughing as they always did. It was quickly becoming one of Georgiana’s favorite sounds in the world.
She sat up and shrugged. “I have no business stepping into this ballroom.”
“Isn’t it to see a friend? She will be overjoyed to see you, no doubt.”
“No,” Georgiana said. “It’s everyone else who’ll be there.”
“The only person ye should be worrying about is ye,” Hester said.
Georgiana sighed again. “That seems like easy advice.”
“Sometimes the easy advice is just that.”
“And sometimes,” Georgiana said, laughing, “such advice is easy because it comes from a person who doesn’t have to deal with it.”
“Very well,” the older woman said, a knowing smile on her face. “I know a secret. Stand up, please.”
Georgiana did. The older woman held out her hand as Georgiana reached out her gloved hand and placed it in the woman’s palm.
“Now, darling,” she said, pulling Georgiana across the floor and twirling her until Georgiana had a smile on her face. “The only person you have to worry about is you, and if you have a hard enough time with that, then think of your husband. He’ll be happy you’re there beside him.”
Happy .
She felt the blush creep to her cheeks at the mere memory of last week at Madame Marie’s ballroom and what they had done when they parted. Ellis had promised to escort her this evening to the ball but made his apologies for being busy—not being able to see her until this evening. She missed him all the more for it, even if she was nervous.
“Well, look at ye—an absolute picture,” Hester said, clutching her hands together in front of her chest excitedly.
“You’ll be late. Come on now.” Esther pulled her forward, then paused at the top of the stairs. “Stay here, I want Ellis to see.”
“See what?” a voice said from the landing below.
“Yer wife, ye silly goose,” Hester chided, tucking another pin into Georgiana’s hair.
“I don’t believe anyone has ever called me that before, Hester.”
“Always a first for everything, my dear.”
She gently nudged Georgiana forward, urging her down as the warm sound of Ellis’s chuckle filled the otherwise empty stairwell.
Try as she might, she couldn’t look him in the eye as she paused a few steps above him. Couldn’t swallow past the nerves that exploded in her chest. Couldn’t fight back the desire that chased down her spine at his soft sigh.
He held out his hand for hers. She settled her gloved hand into his palm, grinning at the way they fit so perfectly together.
“Are you ready for tonight?” he asked.
She scoffed. “Hardly.”
“Georgiana?”
Finally, she glanced up, licking her lips at the sight of him so spectacularly turned out for an evening in London.
“Hello.” His thumb swept a reassuring circle on the back of her hand.
“Hello.”
He shook his head, bending closer to whisper, “You are absolutely breathtaking. And here I foolishly thought it couldn’t get better than yesterday.”
“Silly goose,” she whispered back, a strange warmth washing over her at his beautiful and kind smile.
“Indeed.” He straightened, then glanced up the stairs. “Good evening, ladies.”
“Stay out late and make bad decisions,” Hester called back.
All evening, Ellis couldn’t take his eyes off his wife.
The ballroom in the Duke of Abinger’s Mayfair home was a glittering, chaotic sea of bodies, voices, and silks—lavish in every way. Crystal chandeliers spilled soft light over the guests, casting everything in a golden hue, while towering arrangements of hothouse flowers filled the air with a heavy, intoxicating scent. And yet, despite the splendor of the room, Georgiana was the only thing that held his attention.
Ellis didn’t miss the stares or the hushed whispers as he and Georgiana made their entrance earlier in the evening, nor the ones that followed when he left her to fetch some lemonade. She didn’t care for champagne.
He had watched her from a distance, lingering at the edge of the room, a beautiful wallflower among the fashionable London set. To her credit, Georgiana appeared at ease, but he could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers worried at the lace of her skirts.
He understood.
For a time, everyone in attendance tonight had been his schoolmates, peers, and friends. But after he proposed to Dinah and his parents cut him off—financially and socially—for becoming engaged to an East End shop girl, those friendships dried up.
Now, however, he stood on the opposite side of that equation. A fair amount of men in this room owed him more than coin; they owed him their reputations. Now he owned a healthy portfolio of country estates, London properties, racing horses, and carriages. Too much, honestly, to ever enjoy but the dangerous secrets—those were useful.
Revenge didn’t taste as sweet now that his wife’s reception this evening was less than welcoming. He hated the way Georgiana seemed to shrink whenever anyone addressed her directly.
His jaw clenched. He was proud to call her his wife. And if he were honest, perhaps more than a little infatuated. After yesterday’s encounter, he couldn’t think of anything but her. Georgiana had a hold on him, and it tightened with every second she stood alone, vulnerable to this room as the rest of London circled around her, waiting to pounce.
As he crossed the room, the Duchess of Abinger took Georgiana aside, and was whispering something when he approached.
“Your Grace.” Ellis stretched the glass of lemonade out toward his wife, who smiled stiffly before accepting the glass.
“Lord Linfield, so pleased you could attend this evening. I was just offering your wife my congratulations on your marriage.”
He glanced at Georgiana, her face suddenly flush. “Thank you, and thank you for the invitation. My wife was eager to attend.”
She spluttered.
“Georgie, really?” The duchess smirked. “Please, go dance,” she urged the couple. “I know you love the ballroom wall as much as I do, but you’re too beautiful to be hiding away, dear.”
“You don’t need to fuss over us, Marjorie.”
“Who said anything about fussing? I’m plotting. Did you hear what Lady Brankenridge said about the Marquess of Brookhouse?” Her dark eyes widened with delight. “It’s as though they don’t understand whose ballroom they are in.”
“Mine,” the Duke of Abinger declared, coming to stand behind his wife. The duke’s dark curly hair gave him a friendly air, but it was hard to read what he held in those green eyes of his. He wrapped his hand around her waist and gently drew her to his side. Ellis didn’t miss the flash of tender recognition between them as the duchess smiled up at her husband.
“Linny,” he offered as way of a greeting. Probably fair as the last time they spoke, Ellis had been well in his cups after causing chaos in the city for three days.
“Your Grace.”
“Well look at us now.” The duchess swallowed, clasping her hands in front of her with a hopeful smile. “Who would have thought, Georgie. Wives, and wallflowers no more.”
“Are you speaking for yourself?” she teased back. “Married or not, I still prefer to have my back against the ballroom wall.”
Ellis swallowed hard, masking his surprise. But nothing could be helped about the cockstand in his buckskins at the thought of taking her against the wall. He reached for Georgiana and positioned himself behind her.
“I think marriage suits you,” the duchess continued. “You’re glowing.”
Georgiana turned and glanced up at him, surprise registering on her face when she realized he was already studying her.
The duke turned to hide his grin.
The orchestra struck up a waltz, and he took his chance. Ellis offered his hand.
“Go on,” the duchess said, shooing them off. “We’ll be in Town for another week. Let’s make plans to take a ride through the park and catch up. I’m so happy to see you, Georgie, and congratulations.”
They quickly bid their farewells, and Ellis began leading her away.
“I don’t dance, Ellis,” she murmured. She shook her head, eyes wide with trepidation.
It felt as if the entire ballroom suddenly shifted their attention on them, waiting. “Now is not the time to hide, Kitten,” he whispered against her ear.
She nodded, slipping her hand into his.
He led her out onto the ballroom floor, every step purposeful, claiming her. Mine. It was a message he intended to deliver to every pair of eyes that watched them.
After his father had cut him off after proposing to Dinah, his friends had distanced themselves. Still an heir to the earldom, yet the title held little weight in circles that viewed him as a social pariah, pushed to the fringes of London society. So when Dinah died, he had decided to work beside her brother in building some of the more successful silver hells before he went off on his own and built The Phoenix Club.
Once, he had been just another peer among this group. But after being cast off for following his heart, he built himself an empire because of these men and their fortunes. It could never be like it once was, and he was suddenly sure he never wanted it to be.
He was proud of the man he had become, prouder still of his wife.
He loved her.
The realization struck him, swelling in his chest as he clumsily reached for her hand once more when the orchestra struck up. A smile spread across Georgiana’s face as they spun and turned, gliding through the other couples. Every swish of her skirts, every glance from beneath her long lashes, sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine. He couldn’t stop himself from drawing her closer, fingers pressing into the small of her back. There was no use pretending he didn’t want her. Not anymore.
“Is something the matter?” she asked softly as they came back together.
He shook his head, half laughing, knowing full well what he wanted to say was not appropriate for a crowded ballroom. The need to claim her, to mark her in some primal way, blazed through him. But he held his tongue. Instead, he leaned down again, lips brushing against her temple. “You’re so damn beautiful.”
Her gaze flicked to his, the soft blush that spread over her cheeks making his chest tighten painfully. Ellis needed to get her alone, away from this stifling room, needed to kiss her and tangle his hands into her hair and made sure she understood just how he felt about her.
When the music ended and they parted, he kept his hold on her hand. Bending close, he murmured, “Meet me down the hall. In the library.”
Her brows lifted, but when their eyes met, she nodded, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
It took every ounce of discipline he had not to drag her out of the ballroom right then. But he forced himself to stride away slowly, slipping through the sea of guests. The library was quiet, empty, and as he paced before the mantel, he wondered if it was wise to whisk her off like this. But then, wise had very little to do with what he felt when it came to her.
It was an all-consuming, tide-wrecking, complete and utter havoc on his heart. It happened with every hidden smile, each laugh, the way the light had suddenly soaked back into his life. Gradual and then all at once. A complete contradiction that didn’t make sense, but finding himself in love again didn’t either.
But he knew, without a doubt, he loved his wife— Lady Linfield .
There was a soft knock at the door. He spun around just in time to see Georgiana slip through. A click followed, and she turned, holding up a key.
“Marjorie doesn’t like to be disturbed when she’s writing. She always makes a habit to leave a key by the library door wherever she stays,” she explained, placing it back in the tiny porcelain dish on the shelf.
His heart pounded as she moved toward him, the soft rustle of her skirts unbearably loud in the silence. The world could have been ending outside that door, but it wouldn’t have stopped him. He strode up to her, curling one hand around her waist to pull her close, the other to cradle her face.
“Georgiana.” He held her gaze, giving her one last chance to stop him.
She didn’t. Instead, she tilted her chin up, her lips parting in invitation.
His restraint snapped. With a low groan, he kissed her, slow and deep, pouring every ounce of feeling he’d bottled up into that single touch. Her hands fisted in his jacket, holding him tight, and she let out a small moan that undid him. He needed more— needed her —but he forced himself to draw back, breaking the kiss just enough to speak.
“We can’t stay here long,” he murmured, brushing his lips over her jaw, down to the sensitive spot just beneath her ear. “But I can’t wait until we’re home either.”
The sound of her breath hitching, the way she swayed into him—he’d remember this moment forever.
“For a moment, though, can you show me what is behind those eyes of yours tonight, Ellis?”
“A moment? I’d give my soul to hear you beg one more time, and it still wouldn’t be enough. You’ve wrecked me, Georgie. I can’t think… can’t sleep. I need you and still…”
She pressed her palm to his cheek, her eyes so full of adoration. For him.
At least he’d go to hell satisfied. “Damn it, Kitten. You’re perfection.”
The soft breathy chuckle that fell from her lips went straight to his cock.
“I love when you…” her voice dropped to a whisper, “when you say things like that to me.”
Her hand curled back to his nape, and she flexed her fingers, dragging her nails against his skin and sending a shiver of anticipation up his spine.
Desperate to taste her, he bent forward and licked a line up her neck and chased it with the press of his nose until he kissed the corner of her jaw. Georgiana melted back against the wall, clutching his jacket.
“You love when I say what?”
“Don’t tease.”
“You? I’d never imagine it. I’m a man who delivers, sweet. You tell me what you…” Love sat heavy in his mouth, and he swallowed, tamping down the panic sweeping over him. “Tell me what you want.”
Her fingers trailed down his jacket, playing with the buttons of his waistcoat. “Are you going to ruin me here in this library like some hidden tryst, Ellis? Like I was any other debutante in London who recklessly caved to the handsome rake?”
Oh, but she was as frustrating as she was gorgeous. “You’re my wife.”
“Say it again.”
“Mine. My wife, Georgie. No one is ruining you except me, understood?”
She slipped a button free on his vest, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “Can a husband ruin his wife? I thought that was only for unmarried debutantes.”
“Make no mistake, Kitten, I plan to ruin you for the sake of all others. You will want me and only me. Like you’ve ruined me. I am hopelessly?—”
Then, she fisted his shirt and pulled him down to her mouth. “I already am yours,” she whispered against his lips.
Georgiana’s heartbeat thrummed in her ears.
There, the truth of it was out. For years she had been his, even if she had never caught his notice. She had hopelessly loved him since that evening at the stable, then just a young girl at fifteen. And she had carried that love for him around for years when the rest of the world had gone dark.
Panic surged through her body as his mouth crashed against hers in a desperate, frantic kiss. All teeth and tongue and worry and promise.
But she wouldn’t allow fear to take this from her. Wouldn’t allow her mind to interfere with a matter so close to her heart.
So, Georgiana met his every movement, a needy ache throbbing between her legs.
But this was madness.
She broke from their kiss, struggling to catch her breath before she curled her hands on top of his shoulders and pushed down. If they were to be reckless, then let them do what they had shared the other day at Madame Marie’s.
Ellis glanced up at her as he fell to his knees, his gorgeous gray-green eyes hooded and filled with hunger. She stifled a nervous giggle and tossed her head up to the ceiling, lifting up her skirts in invitation.
“Here?” he asked, curling his fingers around her calf.
She shook her head. “Higher.”
He peppered the lightest of kisses along her skin, leaving a trail of fire in his mouth’s wake, higher to the tender flesh of her inner thigh.
Ellis grabbed her leg and placed it over his shoulder, opening her up to him with her skirts pushed high around her waist. Cold air licked her skin as his mouth kissed the soft curls of her mound. She gripped his shoulder, tilting her hips forward, eager for more.
His tongue parted her folds in a slow, delicious lick, drawing a soft moan from her lips. He glanced up at her as she watched him, so erotic, so…
“Mine,” he whispered again before sucking at that sensitive bud at her core.
The world spun around her, her heart racing, her thoughts spiraling ahead as pleasure built in her limbs. It was all so consuming, so intoxicating. And yet not enough, even as he slipped two fingers inside and gently pumped them, building a heady pleasure that nearly made her forget her name.
She thought to tell him he had already ruined her for all others, that her heart had always belonged to him, but it was all chased away as her pleasure drew to an all-consuming pitch, then shattered. He jumped to his feet and placed his hand gently over her mouth.
“ Shh , Kitten, we wouldn’t want anyone to hear us. Or do you want to be caught?”
She nipped at his palm playfully, angry because for as pleasurable as that was, she was still needing more. Georgiana threw her hands around his neck and kissed him, tasting herself on his lips. When they broke apart, his eyes still burning her, she whispered, “More, Ellis. Please.”
“Here?”
She swallowed, nodding, too afraid to give voice to just how badly she needed him in that moment. Too much had changed between them, and yet she hadn’t given herself to him completely.
“You deserve a soft bed and gentle hands, hours of my attention…”
“Before I change my mind,” she urged. “Here. Take me here and make me yours. I want to know when I enter that ballroom again I’m not alone.”
She was afraid she’d said the wrong thing as the look he gave her softened, and his hand tenderly brushed her cheek.
“You aren’t alone. Not anymore.” With a slow exhale, he pressed his thumb against her lower lip. “Here? Are you sure?” he asked again, his voice ragged.
“Please.”
He gently kissed her cheek before wrapping his arms around her bottom and lifting her. She chuckled, burying her head into his shoulders as he strode to the couch and sat down. Georgiana straddled him, feeling his need strain against his buckskins.
“I won’t ever deny you, Georgie. You know that, don’t you? I am… Good God, you wreck me, sweet.”
She brushed her hand tenderly through his hair, gazing down upon him before slipping off his lap to lie down, and pulled her skirts higher.
“Show me what a man and woman share, Ellis. Show me what it's like to be… cared for.”
She pushed past that word lodged squarely in her throat— loved .
In time, maybe, he would come to love her. She wanted that so desperately. To be loved, the way she loved him. But for now, she would lean into his kindness, knowing that with him, she was safe.
He tossed his head up toward the ceiling, a pained groan ripping from his throat before she reached for his buckskins and pulled. Ellis snapped his attention back toward her as she smiled up at him.
“I will be fine. Here. The carriage. The Vingt-et-un table at the club. I’m not some delicate flower, Ellis. And I don’t want to beg.”
“Christ, Georgie. Don’t give me ideas.” He reached for his falls, brushing her fingers with his. “Let me help,” he said, his voice ragged. His fingers made quick work of the buttons, and his erection popped free. She tentatively traced her fingers up his length, stuck at the softness of his skin but how hard he felt beneath her touch.
He hissed.
Georgiana glanced up, afraid she had hurt him, but couldn’t speak because his mouth landed on hers. The panic that had consumed her faded as she melted into his kiss and adjusted her hips. That same overwhelming sense of need washed over her as his hands touched her, parting her knees farther as the head of his cock pressed against her entrance.
“I don’t want to hurt you, sweet. Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she whispered over his lips. Her fingers dug into the back of his neck as he slowly pushed inside, filling her. The pressure was both pleasure and pain until, with one slow thrust, his mouth sealed over hers, and she cried out.
“Only this time, Kitten. It’ll only be this time. I swear it.”
With her heart racing in her throat, she was certain there was something to say, something to do. Except her only response was to kiss him back, urging him forward, and frustrated at his sudden stillness.
“You feel so… incredible,” he said, his voice rough.
He moved his hips slowly, withdrawing slightly before sinking back in, filling her up. She tilted her hips, welcoming him, taking him in until he was fully inside of her.
Her breathy moan was caught on another kiss.
“Quiet, Kitten.”
She pushed at his shoulders until he drew back, confused.
“Please don’t be gentle with me, Ellis. I promise I won’t break.”
“Gentle? You are the strongest person I know, love.”
She froze beneath him at the mere mention of that word. His gray-green eyes held such affection for her; she knew it then. That Ellis Linfield was a powerful man who could ruin anyone he wanted to in London, but in that moment, she had the power to break his heart. And one day, he would realize she wasn’t capable of something so cruel. But for now, this moment between them, this was as vulnerable as he could be with her.
Ellis reached for her thigh and pushed it aside. “There, now. Deeper. I want to feel all of you, Georgie.”
Georgiana arched her back as the sensation of him filling her completely, shutting her eyes at the overwhelming pleasure washing over her.
“Open your eyes. Let me see you.”
When she did, she gasped, watching him move above her, feeling him inside of her. It was… she never knew it could feel this way. “Ellis,” she panted.
He blinked, suddenly moving faster, drawing her back to the present moment. That ache was suddenly replaced with fire as he pushed to kneel and grabbed her hips. His fingers teased her, her body tightening. She clamped a hand over her mouth as his pace increased, and she felt everything within her tighten, and that warm sensation began to build.
“That’s it, Kitten. That’s my girl.”
And just as suddenly, her body shattered around him as he continued to drive into her, kissing her until her moans quieted, and she remembered, wickedly, that she was in Marjorie’s library.
“I can feel you shake around me. Damn. I’m close, Georgie,” he growled, bending back down to cover her body with his. “Where do you want me to spend?”
She blinked up at him, her cheeks burning, still chasing after her breath as she slowly understood.
“I can pull out and spend in your skirts, or you can use the handkerchief in my jacket, but if I spend inside of you, then you might carry my baby.”
She licked her lips, pressing up onto her elbows so her lips brushed against his ear. “Inside, Ellis.”
“You’re going to walk back into that ballroom, with me dripping between your thighs, and we’ll both know you belong to me.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He gently urged her back, kissing her cheek, her mouth, her neck until she felt him tense beneath her touch, and he groaned into her mouth as he found his pleasure.
She gazed up at him as he slowly pulled away and raked her fingertips through his hair. The smile he flashed then was nearly as devastating as the one he flashed her on their wedding day as he repeated his vows back to her. So sincere.
“I’m yours.” Georgiana tugged at the nape of his neck until his forehead met with hers.
I always have been, she added to herself.