Chapter 19
And Grey thought he couldn’t feel worse.
He’d made her cry. And he couldn’t even really hold her to him to soothe her.
Couldn’t bury his face in her beautiful hair or wrap his arms around her waist and reassure her that he was not only still alive, but that he loved her, which he had inconveniently realized while lying in a hospital bed in a foreign country.
Lying in bed while, evidently, the royal family showed up to wave him off this mortal coil.
And now instead of being able to carry her off to bed—or at least the settee—he was doing all he could to just stand up himself.
Oh Lord, he hurt. But the pain in her eyes was hurting him worse.
She stood there in the middle of the room alone sobbing, her hands over her face as if she were ashamed of her tears.
Desperate, he looked over at her brother and cousins. “Do something!”
But all three of them stood there staring at her as if her hair was on fire.
“Packham!” he snapped. “Haven’t you ever seen a woman cry?”
Michael kept staring. “Not her,” he finally said.
Both cousins shook their heads. Rafe even pointed. “Ever.”
Grey swore. Then he did the only thing he could think to do. He limped up to Georgie and wrapped his good arm around her. And bless her, she nestled into his sore shoulder like a child.
“I’m sorry,” he said. What for, he wasn’t sure. For surviving? For taking so long to get back to her? For marrying her in the first place?
No. Not that. Never that. It sounded so trite, but one of the few things that had kept him alive was the idea of getting back to her. And now that he caught her fresh flower scent, he knew he was rewarded.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said gently to the top of her head, “But you’ll have to share the bed again.”
She just nodded. He was beginning to think that he needed to sit down when suddenly she pulled back and straightened.
“Wellington!” she snapped, glaring at them all like a hanging judge. “He knew, didn’t he? That was why he avoided talking to me.”
Grey nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Why, though? Why not tell me?” She must have seen him waver, because even with the tears still wet on her cheeks, she tsked at him like an annoyed governess. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, sit down.”
He looked over at the settee and wondered if he could make it that far. She saw that, too.
“Michael!” was all she snapped, and with a rueful grin her brother stepped in and helped Grey to the settee, where he eased down onto the cushions with no more than a small groan. Georgie strode over to get an ottoman from the corner and very gently lifted his left leg onto it.
Even though it pulled his stitches, Grey smiled up at her. She harrumphed. She actually harrumphed.
“Why?” she asked again. “I need to be filled in before the girls hear us and come charging in here.”
“Simple answer?” Grey answered. “Because we weren’t at all sure I would be coming home.
I didn’t want to raise your hopes just to have them dashed again.
Well…” He tried another smile out on her to not much success.
“At least the girls.” Raising his arm, he shrugged.
“As you can see, though, I seem to be very hard to kill.”
Giving the bell rope a good tug, she settled down alongside him and waved the Archangels onto other furniture.
“These miscreants truly didn’t know?”
It was Michael’s turn to smile. It was Grey who shook his head. He was just about to continue his explanation when they were interrupted by a loud gasp from the doorway. Chalmers had obviously responded to her summons.
Grey tried to smile for him as well. Considering what Chalmers looked like, he thought the old man might need smelling salts.
Swiping at her eyes with her sleeves, Georgie gave Chalmers her own smile. “No, Chalmers, you are not dreaming. Lord Coleford truly is home. Evidently, we were the last to know that he survived.”
“Thank heavens no one brings gifts to a funeral,” her unflappable butler said. “It’d be a treat getting ’em all back.”
Grey couldn’t help it. He laughed. Then he grabbed the side with his cracked ribs. “I knew I could count on you to act sensibly, Chalmers.”
Georgie gave her eyes another swipe and turned to the butler.
“First, Chalmers, make certain the girls remain up in the nursery until I can call for them.” She gave a little sob that might have been a laugh.
“Again. Then, I believe that for at least a month or so, we will need to turn one of the other salons into a sick room. His Lordship is in no condition to manage those stairs. And no random visitors. Can you see that done?”
Chalmers straightened like an outraged matron. “But of course.”
Grey almost laughed. Georgie stared him down. “And some tea, please, Chalmers.” She waited long enough to see everyone’s reaction before allowing a sly smile. “And a bit of brandy, I think.”
Even Chalmers almost smiled.
As Chalmers strode off in his best majordomo fashion, Grey leaned back against the cushions of a surprisingly comfortable settee and sighed in relief.
He’d made it. He’d been thinking of this moment for the last four weeks.
Now that he was here, all he wanted to do was look at Georgie.
So his next order of business was to see the Archangels out the door.
Again, he had to quell the urge to laugh. Georgie was leveling a very telling look on them even before he could open his mouth. They were obviously well-acquainted with her silent communications. Michael Packham suddenly jumped to his feet.
“Let me alert Chalmers that the tea is only for two. We have…um, other places to be.”
And so it took only five more minutes before he was finally alone with his wife. He wondered how long he would have with her before being descended on by the girls. Oh well. He might as well make the most of what time he had.
“Georgie,” he said, reaching over with his right hand to take hers.
She swung around to him, her eyes still glistening with the remainder of her tears. Then she looked down at his hand to see the bandage peeking out from beneath his uniform, the only attire he’d been able to hold onto.
“Oh,” she said softly, frowning and gently laying her own hand atop his. “Poor hand.”
He almost rebroke his left shoulder to grab her. Instead, he feasted on the sight and feel of her. “I need to tell you something.”
She stiffened. He realized a second too late that he’d sounded like he was prepping her for bad news.
“Would you mind,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, wishing so hard he could wrap his arms around her and hug her hard.
Even one arm. Feeling absurdly shy, he smiled.
“Would you mind if I told you I loved you?”
He imagined it took a lot to surprise his Georgie. This was evidently one of those things.
“You what?” Her voice sounded a bit strangled. Her eyes were huge.
His smile grew. “Please don’t tell me you have fallen in love while I’ve been gone.
All I’ve thought about for six long weeks is how much I wanted to get back to you to tell you that I was a fool to leave you without letting you know that I’d begun to develop feelings for you.
Feelings that solidified while I was lying on that cot hundreds of miles away.
I love you, Georgie. I really want for us to have a true marriage.
” Shrugging, he let his smile turn wry. “Although it won’t be soon, I’m afraid. I’m still a bit…”
“Tacked and tied together?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Well put.”
He had hoped she would smile. She didn’t. She looked down at their joined hands. “But I have fallen in love,” she admitted.
He thought his heart would stop beating. But then she looked up and he saw the truth in her eyes.
“I fell in love with you, you clodpole,” she said.
“I have spent the last two months torturing myself because I was idiotic enough to have waited to realize I was in love with you until you were hundreds of miles away.” She allowed another small sob.
“And then spent the last month certain I would never be able to tell you.”
There were tears again, this time silent and steady.
And not just from Georgie. Grey couldn’t help it.
Without another word, he let go of her hand and gathered her to him with his right arm, resting his head over hers.
And for the very longest time the two of them shared silent thanks that they hadn’t been stupid after all.
That they would have all the time they wanted to nurture that love.
Very gently, Georgie wrapped her arm around him as well. He could feel her tears wetting his shirt and didn’t care.
“There is one thing I should tell you,” she said. “I did promise, after all.”
He straightened and looked down at her suddenly impish smile. “What?”
She shrugged. “I have a job.”
That was probably the last thing he expected from her. “A job.”
“Yes, indeed. Well, shall we say an investment. My friend Anastasia Dunn is beginning a perfumery, and I am helping create her scents, for which I’m awarded a fourth of the company.” Her smile widened. “She calls me The Nose. I thought you would appreciate that.”
He couldn’t help it. He laughed, even though it hurt. “The Friday trips?”
She nodded. “Just so you know. I might love you, but I am not giving this up.”
“Don’t be silly. Just tell me how to invest in it. And let me know if you need help. As you know, I have a rather prodigious nose myself.”
The two of them were laughing together when the salon door flew open.
Grey was prepared for almost any kind of reaction.
Not the one he got, though. Two little girls stood like statues in the doorway holding hands and frowning.
He thought his heart would burst. They were thinner, far more solemn.
He knew, seeing them then, that he had spent his last moment disappearing on behalf of the Crown.
He had more important things to do right here.
“It’s all right,” Georgie said, her hand out to the girls, “he’s a bit banged up, but it is your Uncle Grey.”
Still, they didn’t move. And then Bark nudged them out of the way to gallop across the room. Everyone yelled a warning, but the massive dog skidded to a halt right at Grey’s feet. And he sat, his head to the side as if he, too, were evaluating the pile of splints and bandages on his couch.
Finally, finally at seeing the dog’s quizzical look, Amelia let go of her sister’s hand and stepped forward. She tilted her own head.
“Uncle Grey,” she said, sounding suspiciously like a displeased governess. “Why aren’t you dead?”
Grey didn’t know whether he was closer to laughing or simply melting at her feet. “Because I had to get back to my three favorite girls, that’s why.”
The answering silence was a long one, born, Grey knew, of harsh experience.
“And I have decided something,” he said. “I will never leave you again. If I must go somewhere, everyone goes along. Or I do not go.”
Again, that silent consideration.
“Not ever?” Sophie demanded finally.
Very carefully, he shook his head. “Not ever.”
Still, he suffered their careful consideration. He found himself clutching Georgie’s hand like a lifeline, his breath held for the judgment of two little girls. Until finally, they looked at each other and smiled.
“Well, that’s all right then,” Sophie declared, and Grey knew she had declared them a family.
He couldn’t wait to find out what that meant. He knew, though, when his girls very carefully wrapped him and Georgie in a laughing embrace, that they finally believed it. He could do no less. Nor could he want to.