Chapter 11 #2
She shrugged. “It might be the fact that I am well known for refusing the unmitigated delight of accompanying certain people of the male persuasion out onto a balcony. Or a library. Or anyplace more evocative than the dinner room.” She grinned.
“I am also known for my deadly aim with a fan and the heel of my shoe.” She shrugged. “And if absolutely necessary, my knee.”
He flinched a bit. “And you enjoy this?”
“Defending myself from encroaching men?” She let go another quick grin. “I’m afraid so. Especially their astonished looks.”
“You terrify me, Wife.”
“Something else to remember,” she advised with a nod.
“But the boys learning how to go on in public? Actually, I enjoy them quite a lot. I feel I am performing a service for my sisters, who will benefit from their dance partners gaining a little polish. It is something you will allow, of course, knowing how innocent the interactions are.”
“It is?”
“Of course. Every married woman must have her cicisbeos.”
“May I at least grumble a bit, glare at one or two, just so they know I’m paying attention?”
Blast him, his easy smile stirred a brew of delight in her chest. She could quite well come to love this kind of banter.
“Only three grumbles per ball,” she insisted. “More if it is to help me discourage one of the encroaching. Or the reeking.”
“Now that,” he said with a grave nod of his head, “would be my pleasure. After all, if you dance with one of them, you might bring that olfactory insult home with you. And that I will not allow.”
They were both grinning now. “Oh, good. I will enjoy having a co-conspirator. The other kings aren’t nearly as understanding.”
He gave her a bow. “It will be my honor.”
“You smell quite lovely, by the way,” she murmured, leaning a bit closer.
That incited another risen eyebrow. “I do my humble best. I also quite appreciate the sense of a summer garden you carry with you. Very...evocative.”
“Why, thank you. My friend Anastasia helps me make up the scent especially for me.” She sighed a bit. “She says it reflects who I wish to be rather than what I am.”
“You wish to be gorse?”
“I wish to be free to wander the woods back home, or possibly the moors, the headlands.”
“To walk?”
“Or ride. Just the time and freedom to lose myself in a spring day without dragging all the family challenges along with me.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Alone.”
Although suddenly she thought she might not mind the company of a certain ex-soldier.
Holding her hand, laughing with her as they watched rabbits skip away and red squirrels chide them from the plane trees.
She had never once felt the need for company, not even her cousins.
It frightened her that her dreams might be changing without her permission.
“Well,” he said, “You are in luck. From what I understand, at least three of my estates have quite a bit of land to tromp over. Two are on coasts. Coleford Abbey itself is near Gloucester. Painswick Park, I’m afraid, is more inland.”
“Oh, blast,” she retorted, sitting up straight as she remembered the ball from the other night. “I forgot. Do you really have an estate in Wales? Will we truly be forced to rusticate there and challenge the ghosts for sleeping space while you’re away?”
“Llanthony Court,” he said with a nod. “Sadly, though. No ghosts. At least, none who have importuned me. And no. We can save that pleasure for later. “
But that brought up another rather urgent question. “I haven’t even thought,” she admitted. “Where do you expect us to reside while you’re away?”
He did her the kindness of considering that a moment. “Until we can face the estates together to determine what needs to be done—which I’m afraid is undoubtedly a lot—why don’t you stay in London and concentrate on bringing some life into the townhouse? We’ll make the grand tour when I get back.”
She nodded. “We can at least rid the place of that horrid, musty, leaky roof smell that follows one from room to room.”
He scowled. “Noticed that, did you? I tried to have Mrs. Chalmers bring in fresh and dried flowers, but that is again like—”
“Perfume on an unwashed body.”
Wincing, he nodded. “It has put me completely off my feed.” His sudden grin was rueful. “Except for cinnamon buns, I’m afraid. Many more of those and I won’t fit my uniform.”
“They are quite tasty.”
For a long moment there was no sound but the unhurried clop of the horses, no movement but the slow stroke of Grey’s thumb against the seat back.
Georgie didn’t feel that hum, now. It was worse.
She felt a welling in her chest, as if emotion had volume and weight, filling her, unsettling her, threatening her balance.
How dare he be so kind? So thoughtful? How dare he understand her insecurities better than her entire family?
“Will you miss it?” she asked.
She had no idea where that came from. She was sure it was the most insensitive thing she had ever asked.
But suddenly it seemed important. He was not having to upend only her life, after all, with his inheritance.
And she suspected his answer would tell her more about him than anything she’d seen or heard so far.
Besides, his revelations had exposed her far too much. She needed a diversion from the raw emotions that roiled in her chest.
Oddly he didn’t seem to think she was too forward.
“The military?” He nodded. “I will. I know it sounds odd, but there is so much in that life that is satisfying. The camaraderie, the action, the sense of accomplishment.” He shrugged, as if he realized he might have said more than he’d intended.
“The satisfaction of training a great horse.”
“The horses your family breeds.”
He nodded. “Prime hunters and chargers. As I said before, when my father died my sister and her husband took over. They’re quite a pair for breeding them. All I must do is ride them.”
She nodded and took a considered look at her hands. “Would you be willing to speak to Geoffrey about that life?”
He frowned. “I will not glamorize it.”
She sighed in relief. “Exactly what I had hoped. Geoffrey is like most little boys. He only sees the adventure. He has no idea of the cost.”
“Nor should he. He’s a gruesome little beast, isn’t he? Wanted me to tell him of the Forlorn Hope.”
She scowled. “I told him you would not have participated. I’m correct, aren’t I?”
“You are. Thank all the heavenly hosts. Cavalry charges were quite enough to disorder my nerves.”
She was nodding in commiseration when a jaw-cracking yawn caught her by surprise. “Oh. Excuse me. I usually behave better than this.”
Instead of answering he simply changed seats and tucked himself in next to her. Too close. Georgie caught herself just shy of jumping up. Getting away. At least changing seats to escape the inevitable hum of attraction. The melting, seething energy that pulsed off him that was far too compelling.
But that energy was simply too delicious to escape. She wanted to snuggle up to it like a fire on a raw autumn afternoon.
His smile was oddly gentle as he laid his arm over her shoulder and drew her close. “Shhhh. I have no designs on your person other than to let you rest. Wouldn’t you like to relax for just a few minutes? Surely your back is aching from keeping it so rigid.”
She sputtered at him. “Don’t be absurd. I told you. I’m fine.”
But she couldn’t quite move herself to throw his arm off or push away from his shoulder where he urged her to rest her head.
“Of course, you are,” he said. “You’re always fine. But for this little time when nobody can see you but me, why don’t you allow yourself to be tired? Why don’t you let someone else take care of you for once?”
If he thought that should soften her up, he was quite mistaken. All it did was stiffen her spine even further. “Don’t be absurd.”
He used his other hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “You said that already. What is absurd about wanting to offer my wife a bit of comfort?”
“You’ll expect me to get used to it. And then you’ll leave.”
For a moment he didn’t answer. But he didn’t let her go either, and his arm, lying so comfortably over her shoulder was soothing in a way she couldn’t define.
He was casually stroking her arm with those long, elegant fingers, and suddenly she could hear Grandmama’s voice in her head.
“...a good man will see to your pleasure with his hands and mouth and oh, especially his arms, which can hold you up when you feel you have nothing left in you.”
It wasn’t fair. She couldn’t allow herself to fall prey to his casual comfort when it couldn’t last. She was so very tired of being yanked back and forth for other people’s convenience.
“You’re right,” he finally acknowledged, pulling her just a little closer. “I’m afraid I will leave. But I will always come back.”
She turned her head to meet him eye-to-eye. “Is that a promise you can make?”
He didn’t smile. “The war is over. The worst danger I shall be in at the embassy is from French chefs and the Beau’s temper. But I’ve never known him to toss a subordinate off a balcony. Now, lay your head back and rest a bit.”
She wasn’t quite ready. And they had just turned in through iron gates. “We’re going into Richmond Park. Isn’t that the wrong way?”
This time he did smile and stroke a finger down her cheek. “I might have told John Coachman to take us around the park a few times.”
“You did? Why?”
“Well, I thought you might like a few minutes to get used to the idea of being my bride before you are forced to assume the mantle of Marchioness of Coleford. The servants at Rob’s place aren’t ours, but they will be lined up to welcome a Marchioness, you may be sure of it.”
She not only laid her head back, she groaned. “Oh. That’s right. I don’t suppose I could just ignore all that.”
“Not a chance. And then you shall have to face the staff at Coleford House tomorrow. My people have been waiting a very long time to greet an ally in the fight to civilize me.”
That got her eyes back open, even though she’d finally given up and laid her head against his shoulder. His broad, comfortable shoulder. Blast it. “I have no intention of wasting my time on such a pointless endeavor.”
“You like me as the savage I am?”
“No. I despair of you ever having the sense to assume your dignity. It might have something to do with how you deal with those little girls.”
“Our little girls.”
That brought her head back up. “Is that to be how we go forward?”
“Should we not? They have been sorely deprived of an actual family their whole lives. I’m afraid my cousins weren’t...weren’t...”
“Kind? Loving? Christian?”
She knew he heard the anger that still seethed in her over the defensive flinches and miserable self-condemnation from two beautiful little girls.
“All of those,” he admitted, his voice heavy. “I haven’t even had the courage to ask them yet. I just keep hoping that with enough stability and affection, they’ll overcome it.”
“Affection and stability never hurt anyone. I’ll be happy to lend my support. They are dear little girls.”
He sighed, sounding heartsore. “They are. But let us face that difficulty later. For now, why don’t we simply enjoy the park? It isn’t a moor, but it does have herds of deer and woodlands that I believe still have bluebells, which I will remind you smell lovely.”
She smiled and closed her eyes. “That they do.”
Usually, she couldn’t wait to smell them. She would stand on the bank of that sea of sweet blue tucked into the shadows of an oak forest and simply breathe, storing up the pure rich scent of spring to get her through the summer of whatever trials and tribulations her family tossed at her.
They couldn’t this time, though. Could they? She had only Grey’s trials and tribulations to contend with, although those would be enough to fill her days more than adequately. Still….
“Did anyone tell you that you have a wonderfully comfortable shoulder?” she murmured, her eyelids too heavy to lift.
“I usually don’t allow my comrades to fall asleep on my shoulder.”
“Then I feel privileged.”
“No,” he disagreed. “I am the one who is privileged. I suspect it takes quite a bit for you to trust someone enough to relax this much.”
She thought about it and admitted with surprise, “My first time, actually.”
Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her closer. “I suspected as much.”
There was a long silence filled with no more than the clop of horse hooves, the rattle of carriage wheels over gravel, the whisper-soft brush of Grey’s breath in her hair, the boldening scent of bluebells.
And then, as if it were inevitable, she could feel his fingers stroking her hair, releasing showers of sparks all down her back.
“Stop that,” she said, although she couldn’t quite dredge up the outrage to sound threatening.
“Why?”
Why? Why was his voice so soft, so close to her ear? Why did it seem to multiply those sparks that now skittered through her chest and into her belly?
“Because I’m not quite certain if you mean to wake me or put me to sleep. And we need to settle far too much in too little time to allow me that luxury.”
“What do we need to settle?”
She took a breath and sighed, quite certain now that he meant to wake her, or at least get her undivided attention. He had it, just not the way she thought he wanted.
“I don’t remember.”
His chuckle resonated through her in the most delicious way. “Can I ask a question?”
“I suppose.”
“What have you and your grandmother been talking about?”
Georgie sat up so fast she almost fell right off the seat. “What?”
He shrugged. “She told me to ask you.”
Well, she wasn’t asleep anymore.