Chapter 26 #2
It was like a red-hot poker through his body, searing his blood and inflaming his senses. He turned to her, sensing the closeness of her lips, a breath from his own. The effort of self-control was an unbearable torture. By her rapid breathing, he could tell it was the same for her also.
“I remember the... freedom of last night. I have never felt so free.” He whispered.
“Nor I. I wish... I hope that it will not be the last time,” she replied.
A gust of laughter swept over them, a raucous gentleman passing by.
A bee buzzed somewhere behind. The scent of flowers, heady and sultry, mixed with the pure and innocent aroma of the soap Georgia favored.
Keaton was sure it was perfectly ordinary, but when it came into contact with Georgia's delicious, soft skin, it became something divine.
And it aroused him to the ardor of a rutting stag.
“It will not be,” he promised.
“Will you tell me now what happened to you? What do you remember? All I have are tidbits from hearing others. I have never had it from you directly.”
Keaton breathed in through his nose, feeling the familiar reluctance to speak, the fear of weakness and vulnerability.
But after all, castle walls were rendered obsolete by gunpowder. Georgia has rendered my walls just as redundant. They cannot withstand her barrage.
“You still do not trust me?” Her voice had a touch of the incredulous, tinged with disappointment.
“No...” Keaton began, intending to deny it.
But he was interrupted, and the sentence never finished. Georgia removed her hand from his and moved away.
“Your Graces, good to see you out and about!” came a jocular male voice that Keaton did not immediately recognize.
Keaton gritted his teeth, reaching for Georgia, but she was out of his reach. His fingers touched the far end of the bench. She must have risen, he realized, leaving him quite alone even if she was only a few feet away.
“You will have to furnish me with a name, I'm afraid,” Keaton said, standing and orienting himself to the voice.
“Earl of Chester, old boy. We were at school together somewhere back in the mists of time,” came the reply.
“Of course, Chester! You succeeded the old man finally I see.”
“He held on into his seventies, but correct, I am the Earl now. And this must be your lovely wife?”
“Yes, I am,” Georgia's voice was cold and reached Keaton from approximately six feet away.
He felt relief that she was still in the vicinity, and frustration that he had been interrupted at such an inopportune moment.
If only he had not hesitated. If only he had not given in for just a second to his fears, then the question would never have been asked, and Chester's interruption would not have been so catastrophic.
“And I read that you had acquired the Dukedom several years ago now in the Times. I suppose old Edric will be rather redundant now that you're married, aye,” Chester was saying.
Keaton frowned. “My uncle? Whyever do you say that?”
“Well, I was talking to him the other day, and he was telling me how much he had to do running the estates for you. That's why I was so happy to see you out and about. Listening to Lord Swinthorpe, you would think he was the Duke!”
Chester chuckled, but Keaton smiled tightly.
“Indeed. My uncle has been invaluable. As you say, he is now free to look at his own estates.”
“Keaton, this sun is beginning to bother me,” Georgia chimed with a hint of something else in her voice, “would your friend be able to guide you back to the carriage? I would not curtail your reunion.”
“Have no worries on that score, Your Grace!” Chester boomed eagerly, “I will see him safe back to you.”
Keaton heard Georgia withdraw, felt her presence lessen, her scent fade. He gritted his teeth, chained by the need to present an acceptable face to society. Shackled by the bonds of propriety. It was maddening.
No, I will not be chained. I will not lose the freedom I tasted last night, and I will not leave Georgia in pain, even if I must offend in order to do so.
“Georgia! Stop where you are!” he barked, “Chester, thank you for the offer, but would you choose my company over a beautiful woman?”
Chester spluttered. “I would not choose my wife over a longstanding friendship. It's a bit of a rum do!”
“Then let it be rum! I choose my wife every time and hang with everyone else!” Keaton retorted.
He marched blindly forward in the direction that he had last heard his wife.
She did not speak or give any hint of her whereabouts.
Then her scent filled his nostrils, and her body was beside his.
Her lips touched his cheek for much longer than society deemed appropriate for a public display of affection.
Keaton broke another taboo by turning to her and kissing her lips. It was long and passionate, drawing her close to him. Her gasp was echoed by those of appalled matrons and the envy of married and eligible gentlemen alike.
“If you had let me finish…” Keaton began, but Georgia put a finger over his lips.
“It is a hot day. A cool dip is called for, do you not think? Remember the list?”
Keaton's smile bloomed like a sunrise.