Chapter Five #2
A flash of memory filled his mind—of green hills, tall trees, and a pond—then it was gone. His pulse spiked as hope flooded his chest. “Go on,” he urged.
A dreamy look came over her face. “You pulled me aside from the others and told me you could not bear us to part without making our bond official. That night, you awaited me on the other side of the garden wall at my parents’ townhouse on Rally Street at midnight, and from there, we rode all night to Gretna Green, where we married.
We made it back in the nick of time to avoid anyone noticing my absence. ”
He frowned as he tried to wrap his mind around what she told him. “I brought you back? You mean, we didn’t spend the night?”
“Of course not.”
“Why of course not?” he demanded. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. We got married, and straight away set off to return—”
“Not straight away,” she insisted, her silver eyes flashing with ire. “We spent several hours there, being…happy about being married.”
That was an odd way for her to say they’d made love following their marriage ceremony. If indeed that’s what she meant. For all he knew, they stopped for crumpets and tea.
Georgina went on. “You said we mustn’t let on what happened as our families would undoubtedly be crushed if we left them out of our celebration.
” Her chest rose and fell as she drew in a deep breath in a visible effort to compose herself.
“It was one of the most romantic gestures you’d ever made.
You wanted me to know how much you…that is, the extent of your feelings for me before you departed for war, in case the worst happened. ”
He drummed his fingers on the table. That sounded decidedly unlike him—or so he thought. He wasn’t actually certain. But something else she’d said niggled at him. What was it? The others. “Who were ‘the others’?”
Her chestnut brows arched. They were thick and bold and looked exactly right on her face. “What others?”
“You said ‘you pulled me aside from the others.’”
She stared at him. For the life of him, he could not read her expression.
“At Hampstead Heath,” he prodded, not bothering to hide his impatience.
“Oh, yes.” She sounded breathless. “My brother, Lord Drake Belfry.”
A sudden wave of nausea slammed through him. Black spots danced before his eyes.
“Teddy, what’s wrong?”
The image of a man with dark curly hair, grinning, and wearing sports tweeds flashed in his mind’s eye. Another wave of nausea hurled through him.
“Teddy?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and waved her off with a flick of his hand as the nausea receded. “I am fine.”
“In that case, let us return to the point I wished to make,” she said.
He dropped his hand to eye her. It seemed his wife had a tenacious streak. “Very well.”
She folded her hands before her on the table. Her fingers were graceful, her nails neatly trimmed. “I think it’s best I simply come out with it.”
“Good. Please do.”
She flashed him another of those peeved looks. “Teddy, you must take your medicine.”
His eyes narrowed. “No.”
“The doctor warned me you might be difficult.”
“Difficult? Try downright obstinate, love. I will not take it and that is final.”
She worried her delicious lower lip between straight white teeth.
“You must understand my position. He said you’d tried on multiple occasions to hurt yourself.
He went so far as to suggest I leave you there, in his care.
He made it clear my own safety was not assured in your presence—unless you took the medicine prescribed you by your very own physician. ”
No longer with any appetite to speak of, he lounged back in his chair and shoved his unfinished plate away from him. “And if I don’t? What then? You’ll drug me like Dr. Penhurst did and return me to Brook Haven?”
She met his gaze with a steady, unblinking eye. “No. I will not return you there, no matter what.”
He had not expected the unqualified assurance. He’d assumed she’d hedge rather than answer with such calm certainty. “Even though you’re afraid of me?”
She lifted her chin. “I never said I was afraid.”
Nor had she issued an unmitigated denial.
He wanted to tell her he’d never hurt a woman in his life. However, though it galled him, he refrained. He could hardly attest to something as he did not precisely recall how he’d treated any women from his past.
He hated that she feared him, however, and so he said the one thing sure to appease her. “Very well. I’ll drink the noxious stuff—for now.”
Her liquid-silver eyes widened with unmistakable relief and she sent him a brilliant smile. It lit up her entire face and made the blatant lie entirely worth it.
From nowhere, another image of the man with the curly hair came to him. This time he was not smiling, but staring up at the sky with sightless eyes.
Teddy slammed his palms over his own eyes as if he could block out the vision.
Georgina made a sound of distress, pushed back from the table, and moved to his side, pressing one cool palm to his forehead. “What is it? What can I do?”
He groaned. “I don’t feel so well, pet,” he murmured, too grateful for her soothing touch to deny the truth and risk her withdrawing. “I have the headache. Afraid any further lecture will have to wait ’til tomorrow.”
She ignored the taunt and withdrew her hand. “Can you make it upstairs, my love?”
He slanted her a glance through slitted eyelids, taking in her beetled brows and worried expression. The prideful part of him wanted to tell her to shove off. Another part wanted to take the comfort she offered, weak though it marked him.
“Perhaps I could lean on you a bit, sweetheart?”
“Of course.” She sounded so grateful for the opportunity to help him that he would have grinned if he could.
He pushed back from the table and rose. No more black spots darkened his vision, and his nausea did not return in a rush despite the lurking headache. He could make it upstairs on his own recognizance, he decided.
Nevertheless, when she wrapped one arm around his waist and snugged up against him, the scent of roses swirling up from her hair, he made no protest. Indeed, he slung an arm over her shoulder and leaned into her. She was soft and warm and smelled so nice. She felt very good, indeed.
They started from the dining hall at an awkward shuffle.
He hadn’t realized how petite she was. He stood at least two heads taller than her.
Glancing down at her shining head of chestnut curls, piled atop her crown, likely to give the illusion of greater stature, he tried to remember her.
Tried to imagine a midnight assignation and an all-night trip to Gretna Green. He could not see it.
The image of the man came to him, instead, and his stomach clenched. Her brother, Drake, whom she’d mentioned? He had the same curling hair as Georgina, though he wore it cropped short. Still, he couldn’t say for certain.
But one thing he did know: The man, whoever he was, was dead.
His gut clenched. He didn’t want to think about that. Much more pleasant to focus on the soft, sweet woman at his side. To focus on this moment, and this moment alone.
They climbed the stairs. Moved to his guest chamber, though he glanced with longing toward hers, wondering what it looked like and if it smelled like her.
When they reached the closed door, she twisted to open it rather than release him and he almost felt guilty for playing up his debilitation. But why should he? They were a married couple. Or so she said.
The meager light from the burning wall candles framing his bed spilled into the corridor, and bathed Georgina’s face in golden light. She gazed up at him expectantly, then glanced into the chamber as if waiting to see if he meant to disentangle himself from her.
He most certainly did not.
“Mr. Danvers and Thomas will have delivered your things by now, no doubt. We haven’t a full complement of staff, so no one will have unpacked for you. I can help with that tomorrow if you like.” Shyness edged her tone.
But then, they hadn’t yet lived under one roof as man and wife. He wondered what else they had or hadn’t done.
She’d said they had spent some time “enjoying being married” following their ceremony. That could only mean one thing, surely?
He reached with his free hand, traced his fingertips over her cheek, purportedly to smooth one of her loose, corkscrew tendrils behind one of her ears. Really, he wanted to see if her skin was as silky smooth as it looked. It wasn’t. It was softer.
She shivered, and the vibration transmitted from her body to his.
His manhood stiffened with enthusiasm.
“Pet, I could use some help. Not sure if I can manage my boots, nor all these buttons, on my own.”
Her liquid-silver eyes widened and a flush of heat flooded her pale cheeks. “O-of course.”
Together they crossed the threshold and made their way toward the bed in the center of the chamber. It looked barely large enough to accommodate him, let alone the two of them, but he felt certain they could make it work.