Chapter 6
Georgia woke from a dream of being pursued by the Earl of Emsworth to be rescued by a savage, fair-haired warrior to whom she surrendered herself utterly.
When the dream reached its fevered peak, she awoke, staring at the ceiling, bedclothes kicked to the foot of the bed.
A sheen of sweat was cooling on her skin, and her nightdress had somehow risen almost to her waist.
For a moment, she felt the hammering of her heart, tried to control her breathing, and re-examined the dream.
How can such wicked, wanton thoughts exist in my mind? Where do they come from? I would not have said I knew such acts could be performed!
Her face was scarlet as she recalled a moment in which she had lain back in a forest clearing, grass and moss soft beneath her. The barbarian prince had lifted her dress and then...
Oh my! I will go to hell if I do not purge myself of such.... delicious thoughts. Stop it!
It was then that she became aware of the knocking at her door.
“Yes?” she called out, scrambling to cover herself with the bedclothes.
The door opened to admit the fiery heads of Maggie Marsh and Cynthia Marsh, a pair of maids who were hired to help Cook during the summer seasons. Sisters, their eyes were wide above their freckled faces.
“Begging your pardon, Miss Georgia. But His Lordship and Her Ladyship have asked for your presence in the big house,” the older one, Maggie, said.
“There's a prince come to see you!” Cynthia quickly put in before her sister could usher her away to her chores.
This last was delivered in an excited, impatient squeak. Georgia frowned. No one would mistake the Earl of Emsworth for a prince. Someone the servants did not recognize had arrived, but one who had a great deal of presence.
“Oh my…” she suddenly breathed, thinking back to her stolen kiss, “would he have come after what I did?”
“Beg your pardon, Miss?” Maggie asked, entering the room to select a dress from Georgia's limited wardrobe.
“Not a prince, Maggie. A Duke, I think,” Georgia said thoughtfully.
“Same difference, Miss. Still exciting!”
Is it? I kissed him because I sought an escape, and I believed that would serve the purpose. Now that the moment is here, though... I am afraid. I am stepping into the unknown... Is it better the devil you know?
She dressed with Maggie's help, and then hurried across the stable-yard to the main house.
She went to the sitting room located near the main entrance on the north side of the house, customarily used for receiving visitors.
As she approached, she suddenly wondered if she had made a mistake.
There was no sound of conversation from within.
Perhaps the Duke was being entertained elsewhere?
Before she could reach for the handle, the door thrust open, and Uncle Benjamin stepped out. He puffed out his chest so that it almost matched the expanse of his stomach and tugged on his side-whiskers, glaring at her.
“You've done it now!” he whispered fiercely, “mired us in scandal, you have! Put my daughter's future at risk, not to mention our own carefully nurtured reputation!”
Georgia could almost scream at the audacity!
“Perhaps you should not have tried to foist an unwanted marriage to a beast upon me. Then he would not have tried to foist himself upon me, and I would not have needed to be rescued,” she whispered back, equally furious.
Benjamin's face darkened, and his meaty hands clenched. He took out a handkerchief, mopping at the sheen of sweat that had erupted across his broad forehead.
“I—I will not be spoken to like that by a wicked child. You will come in here now and salvage something for this family from your disaster.”
He opened the door and preceded Georgia into the room. She spotted the Duke seated in front of the window, which looked out over the park in front of the house. Aunt Clarissa was a disapproving statue seated on a chaise with her daughter beside her, immeasurably nervous.
The Duke’s face turned her way as she stepped into the room, and she reminded herself that he was blind and could not see her.
His eyes just missed hers but were unerringly close.
She found herself studying him brazenly.
His face was handsome, remarkably so, communicating strength, sternness, and nobility.
His eyes were soft and deep. It was ironic that they were, in fact, broken, for they were easily his most beautiful attribute.
Georgia felt her pulse gallop, butterflies gamboled in her stomach, and her mouth went dry. For one terrifying moment, she thought of the dream and feared that her thoughts would be transparent for all to see. She fought to maintain some semblance of self-control.
“Your Grace,” she greeted the Duke tightly.
Now his eyes met hers as though the sound of her voice was all that he had needed. She gazed at him, feeling no sense that he could not see her, that he was not gazing back at her.
“Miss Roseton. I now have a name to put to the perfume,” the Duke said coldly.
“Perfume… Your Grace?” Georgia asked.
“It is how I first came to recognize you. We bumped into each other at the Assembly Rooms, quite literally. Obviously, I would not remember your face, but I do remember scent.”
“I must apologize once again, Your Grace, for my niece's precipitate behavior last night,” Uncle Benjamin put in, “I have been assured by Lord Emsworth that no harm was intended and that no further action will be taken. His marriage to my niece will proceed and...”
“It will not,” the Duke interrupted, staring straight at Benjamin, stopping him dead in his tracks.
“Whatever do you mean?” Aunt Clarissa laughed nervously.
“For I will marry your niece,” the Duke announced abruptly. “It is the only solution to a scandal that is brewing even as we sit here. I cannot allow my good name to be tarnished by said scandal through no fault of my own.”
Georgia's mouth had fallen open, and she shut it quickly when all eyes turned her way.
I prayed for this, so why does it come as a surprise?
Uncle Benjamin coughed into the thick silence. “This is quite...”
Aunt Clarissa stopped him with a pincer to his arm.
“Quite logical,” she assured calmly. “I commend you, Your Grace, on your clarity of thought. Of course, marriage is the only way to forestall the coming scandal. I am only sorry that it is a member of my family who has precipitated it.”
“Why, yes. Yes, of course,” blustered Uncle Benjamin, looking flat-footed, “damned decent of you, Your Grace. Of course we had our heart quite set on the Earl of Emsworth for Georgia, but—”
“This is a match much better suited to us,” Aunt Clarissa again cut across her husband.
Amelia sat next to them both, agog at the developments. Georgia watched, equally amazed by the interplay between her Aunt and Uncle.
“A Duke in the family is quite preferable to an Earl, is that not so?” Georgia seized the moment.
The Duke looked at her again. “I assure you, Miss Roseton, that nothing could be further from the truth. I will not be in the family, as you put it. Nor will you be in mine. We will merely be presenting a face to the world in order that our respective names and those of your good Aunt and Uncle are not sullied by your juvenile actions.”
Georgia felt herself needled by his words and clamped her teeth shut around a retort.
Good name of my Aunt and Uncle indeed! If only he knew what they are really like! But I must not rock the boat. I wanted this, to escape the clutches of the Earl and the veritable prison of Silverton Manor. I have made my bed, now to lie on it and pray it is more auspicious…
That brought thoughts of scandalous dreams. Of beds made of soft grass and Dukes with hard, unyielding bodies. She felt herself blushing and hoped that it would be taken as meekness.
“So you intend this marriage to be one of convenience…” Aunt Clarissa inferred with blooming satisfaction.
Georgia peeked up to see realization and dawning relief on her aunt's face.
She thought I would end up in a more powerful position than she. As a Duchess no less. Now she knows that is not the case, she is happy.
“Yes. We will... parade in public as man and wife, and the gossips will fall silent. Then, after a suitable period of time, the marriage will be annulled and we will go our separate ways. Quietly.”
Georgia’s head tipped back up.
Annulled?
“Anulled?” Uncle Benjamin echoed her thoughts.
“Of course, it will be annulled,” Aunt Clarissa chimed eagerly. “And we will ensure that Georgia does not do anything that will interfere with our plan.”
“Surely, Aunt,” Georgia whispered hesitantly, “I am as much a part of this discussion as the Duke. I am one of two that will be involved, after all…”
“You are one of one,” the Duke shut down immediately.
“One who manipulated me into this situation. And it is not our plan, madame,” he directed his discomfiting blind stare to Aunt Clarissa this time, “but mine.
I am not yet convinced that your husband and yourself are not party to your niece's manipulation—”
“I did not manipulate you!” Georgia interrupted.
“Really?” he shot back. “You were betrothed to an Earl and now to a Duke. You have improved your prospects greatly, wouldn’t you say?”
“I did not ask for your help,” Georgia could feel herself growing red with fire at the Duke's aloof detachment.
I did not need his help! I could have fought off that despicable man. I'm sure of it! Oh, but how then could I avoid having to marry him... Or else find myself without a roof over my head…
“It is not my help that is in question, Miss Roseton. It is what you did in front of witnesses after I had helped you,” the Duke replied, smoothly.
To that, Georgia had no answer. She had behaved recklessly, of that there was no doubt, and she did feel guilty at drawing her rescuer into this situation. But what else could she have done?
“Let me be very clear. I am proposing a month in which we will portray a happily married couple, while in private, living separate lives. There will be no love, affection, or consummation. Do you agree?”
“She does,” Aunt Clarissa nodded eagerly.
“Absolutely, of course!” Uncle Benjamin echoed.
All eyes turned to Georgia. She met the Duke's green-tinged, grey eyes. They were soft pools in a hard, stone surround.
“I do,” she whispered.