Chapter Twenty-Three
Marlow
I could not bear the silence.
Watching Georgiana with Lord Reynolds had been utter purgatory. I’d taken a tone with her, which I’d immediately regretted. But here we were, alone in the one spot where I felt more myself than I had in years, and I could not speak the words that might make a difference.
Because I wasn’t sure they would.
Cleo would smell like her tonight, tomorrow, I hoped forever.
I wouldn’t mind falling asleep to it. I was already miserable.
I truly hadn’t intended on seeing her in here. The hour was well past midnight. I should collect Cleo as I’d planned and retire for the night. I shouldn’t tarry.
But, deuces, I missed Georgiana.
And she wasn’t saying anything.
Perhaps she hadn’t missed me at all. Perhaps she’d enjoyed Reynolds’s company so much she’d already forgotten about me and our stolen nights here. Likely for the best.
The silence stretched out, and I could not bear it. Was she angry with me for what I’d said earlier?
I’d had a moment in the box. Lady Diana wanted more of my attention than I wanted to give—she wanted the whole of it—and with Reynolds breathing down my back, and Maggie making light of every deuced thing, I simply couldn’t hold it all in.
Georgiana had noticed right away. Only she’d read my misery as anxiety. How easily she’d encouraged me toward Lady Diana. As though I meant nothing to her. As though this past fortnight had meant nothing.
I hadn’t exactly been kind, and I regretted my tone. But couldn’t she at least have tried to look as miserable with Reynolds as I had felt with Lady Diana?
Was she pretending with him? Or with me?
I could ride for miles without stopping. I could endure endless hours of debate in Parliament. But this silence might truly kill me. I rubbed the back of my neck. If nothing else, I owed her this: “I shouldn’t have said those things to you earlier. Spoken to you the way that I did.”
Her hand slowed down Cleo’s back, her eyes lowered. “I think I provoked you.”
“You were being kind. A good friend.”
Georgiana looked up. “Truly, I only want the best for you.”
My heart started a quicker pace. Gads, how I loved those eyes.
They lured me in, step by step, until I was hovering above her.
Silence.
She blinked. “Your mother showed me your old nursery this morning. Pulled out your baby things. Adorable embroidery. She says your wife must have an accomplished hand, among other things.” She petted Cleo slowly, softly.
I watched her hand. Then her profile, which was as unreadable as Cleo’s sleeping face. I bent down and sat on the floor near the opposite leg of Cleo’s chair.
“Aren’t most women decent with a needle?”
Her lips quirked up. “Aren’t most men chivalrous and chaste?”
I buried my humor, but it was almost painful. I’d never met a woman with a mind quite like Georgiana’s. “Yes, and we’re honest too,” I parried back.
She grinned.
I waited until her gaze locked with mine. “Forgive me?”
She chewed on her bottom lip, her hand slowing on Cleo’s back, trailing down to her tail. “Of course. You seemed out of sorts.”
I lifted my hand to the space between Cleo’s ears and rubbed. Scaring Georgiana off was the last thing I wanted to do. I needed to move extremely slowly, so I said, “I fear I am making a mess of things.”
Our hands were so close, brushing through Cleo’s fur in tandem.
I hadn’t admitted that fear aloud to anyone. Certainly not to the one person I most feared judgment from. “My father always had everything in hand. He was focused and steady. But he isn’t here. I cannot ask his advice, nor seek his guidance.”
“What do you think he would tell you?” She glanced at me, then back down to Cleo.
I puffed up my cheeks and blew out a breath. Remembering Father brought back all the good and the bad and the sorrowful. I had learned over the years to bury it all down deep to keep my head above water.
Tonight, with Georgiana sitting on the floor beside me, I let myself feel it all. I thought back to stories he used to tell about how he’d chosen my mother.
“My father met my mother through their parents. Their courtship was quick but easy. My mother was the daughter of an earl. Her family was extraordinarily wealthy, and my father needed the money. It was a very good match. And with a little effort, it worked out well for them over time.”
My neck burned, and I did not know why. My parents’ arrangement was not special. The embarrassing part was how desperately I’d tried to force a similar arrangement for myself. And how terribly and openly I’d failed.
“I thought I had that with Miss Newbury. A beneficial match. So, this second time round, I lined every necessity out from the beginning. I’ve been more particular.
I did not want to fail again. I want the dukedom to—” I stopped myself.
I’d said it a hundred times: I want the dukedom to be strong.
Only I wasn’t sure what that meant anymore.
I had started to change my mind over where true strength came from.
Still, she didn’t say anything for a long while.
She abandoned Cleo’s back, grazing her tail instead.
Thinking. Perhaps I’d said too much, been too open.
But I wanted to explain my reasoning. To help her see why I acted the way I had when we’d first met.
Why I’d been so blasted determined. And why, now, I wanted to change course.
She shifted from her knees to lean against the leg of the chair. Her gaze washed over me.
“My father married my mother because he was infatuated with her. Over time, my mother missed London living. She wanted to travel. Live abroad. But my father loved the countryside. They fought so often, I can hardly picture them otherwise. When he died, my mother fought with my brother instead, and he pushed her away. And now I rarely see her.” She swallowed hard and our eyes locked.
“No one can say what the future might bring. But at least with Lady Diana you’d have more than what you started with. ”
I had a feeling that was exactly what Father would say. I hated it all the same. “I did not know that about your mother. That she left.”
Georgiana smiled softly. “Peter and I are very close. He’s the only other person in the world who truly understands what my childhood was like.”
And he never left her. My estimation of the man grew. “It seems to me that your mother was never very honest. With your father or with herself.”
She nodded. “My brother would say she is a very good pretender. Sometimes I wonder if I am more like her than I care to admit. But mentioning my mother sends him into a rage, so we try not to talk about her.”
I tried to imagine Wood angrier than I’d already seen him over Georgiana’s welfare. “You know, I think your brother and I got off on the wrong foot. I do believe we’d get along smashingly.”
She laughed, and I felt the bright sound pang in my chest. Cleo raised her head, and Georgiana and I leaned forward to stroke her back at the same time. Our fingers caught, and she blushed the prettiest pink.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
We’d moved so close our knees were nearly touching. Cleo settled.
With no one to coax it, the fire dwindled low, darkening the room. I ought to be responsible. I ought to send us both to bed.
Instead, my mind flashed back to Georgiana, breathless from fencing. How strong she’d been. How it had felt to cross foils, to hold her attention. I could have sworn her eyes had wandered . . . that perhaps, she’d welcome my affections. I had wanted to kiss her.
I wanted to kiss her now.
She caught my gaze, and her lips parted like she could read my mind. Like she, too, remembered that moment.
“It’s late,” she breathed. “You should take Cleo to bed.”
I shifted my elbow along the edge of the seat in front of Cleo, closer to Georgiana. Too fast, my mind yelled, but my heart insisted. I whispered, “Do you want me to?”
Her hand stilled. She swallowed. Shook her head slowly. “I have no power over you.”
She truly had no idea. Could not fathom it.
“You talk about me bending others to my will, but you have no idea the effect you have. I would do anything to please you. Even attend a play I don’t like with a woman I feel nothing for.
Say what you want, whatever you want, and I will do it.
” The backs of my fingers grazed the inside of her forearm, and she shivered.
She hummed and leaned into the chair too. “You cannot mean that. You use these flattering words to tempt me—”
“Am I tempting you?” My voice was too hopeful. Too bright for the moment.
She bit her smile. “I think I might be going mad.”
“Then let us resolve your confusion at once.” My fingers traced up her arm, entwined with hers. She did not pull away, and that was enough to bolster my resolve. “A little game of true or false? I’ll go first. You are interested in Lord Reynolds romantically. True or false?”
Surprised, she let out a nervous laugh. Hesitated for a moment. I watched her eyes change from worried to curious. I saw the moment she decided to play along. “False.”
My tense shoulders sank, and I fought a grin. “How dreadfully disappointing for Mrs. Johns.”
She rolled her eyes, but she was laughing in earnest now. Then she scooted a mite closer, tilted her head back, and looked me directly in the eyes. “You enjoyed your evening with Lady Diana.”
“False,” I quickly clarified. “I was miserable, and my only respite was sitting in front so I did not have to watch Reynolds try to woo you.”
Her grin softened. Her eyes turned thoughtful as her thumb grazed mine.
I could stay here all night. “You think I am arrogant.”
That earned me a smirk.
“Next question, Your Honor.” She raised a brow. “The man on trial already knows my answer. And he would agree with me.”
I snorted. The sound was so abrupt, I tilted my head back, and the resulting laughter bellowed out of me. “How dare you!”
My hand started to release hers, but she pulled it back.
She. Pulled. It. Back.