Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Our laughter pealed through the library, and we both covered our mouths with our hands. She smiled widely as she put a finger to her lips. The door was open. I wished it wasn’t.
I knew what I wanted to ask next, but I almost lost my nerve. “You find me . . . handsome.”
Her humor faded, but her eyes were still bright as they washed over my face. “True.”
I waited for her to say more. To elaborate a little?
She drew my hand into her lap, and I watched as she pressed it between her two palms. “You wish I had a title.”
I wanted to quickly deny it, to pretend like position in Society didn’t matter to me or for the dukedom, but that would be lying. And I owed her the truth. “True,” I said. “But your brother is gentry. Your family name is well-respected amongst the ton.”
She wouldn’t look up. So I ducked until she relented. “You don’t think that’s enough,” I murmured.
“True.” She held my gaze. “Because I’ve listened to you say it time and time again. What the dukedom needs. What you expect.”
I swallowed hard. “I regret that most of all.”
A crease formed between her brows. “You think your worth is tied to the dukedom. That if it isn’t good enough, strong enough, then neither are you.”
I let that one settle and took a few unhurried breaths. “I think that is true. But I don’t want it to be.”
Georgiana lifted my hand and examined every mark, every scar, every groove and line. She was solemn. Serious.
I wanted her to smile again. “You wish Valancourt from Udolpho was real so you could marry him.”
Her eyes darted up to mine. “False.”
“Liar,” I smirked. “I bet you’ve marked up every line he speaks.”
Her mouth formed a perfect, surprised O, and she blew out a breath. “Mark in a book? You’re mad.”
“Perhaps if I read his lines aloud, you’d think differently of me.” I tugged my hand from her grasp, scooting backward toward the table, and she pushed up on her knees.
“Leave my Udolpho alone.” She started to laugh. “Lucas, I mean it.”
I froze at the sound of my name on her lips. Lucas. Not Marlow. Not Duke. Just Lucas.
But my outstretched hand had already snagged her book from the table. I scooted back further and opened to a page, laughing, reveling in the vibrations our voices created together, as I scanned the words for his name. Drat, if Ann Radcliffe didn’t droll on and on and on.
“Lucas!” Georgiana clambered over me, reaching for the book. “Give it here.”
I had to fall back to escape her, stretching out my arm as long as it would go. But she was adamant. Her neck flushed red all the way to her forehead.
I chuckled, trying to roll out of her reach. “My word, you do love this man.”
My words incited a fury in her, and in an instant, she had my outstretched arm in a hold and ripped the book from my hand. But she couldn’t roll away fast enough. My free arm twisted around her waist. My leg pinned hers.
“Please,” she begged, her breaths coming hard and fast and mingling with mine, half laughing from the sudden madness we’d created. She clutched Udolpho to her chest like her dying wish. “Don’t hurt him.”
I’d already forgotten about Valancourt. I leaned over her. Traced her jaw with my free hand. Our eyes locked for the longest moment of my life.
“You like me more than Valancourt,” I whispered.
Her chest rose and fell as she recovered herself. Her gaze washed over my face, then dropped to my mouth.
I thumbed her cheek. Silently begged for her to speak.
“True,” she whispered on a breath.
My chest was on fire. I was engulfed in flames.
She shifted beneath my hold until we were lying side by side. Our knees slid against each other, and our elbows clumsily bumped in the darkening room as we folded our arms and perched our heads upon them.
“You want to kiss me,” she whispered, so close the air between us was palpable.
“Very, very true.” I brushed her hair back, then threaded my fingers through the soft curls at her neck, drawing her nearer. “You’re scared to kiss me back.”
She nodded her nose against mine. Her sweet breath teased my lips in little puffs. “Lucas,” she murmured. “We shouldn’t.”
“But you want to?” I sounded like the weak, sodden fool I was.
Slowly, her fingers traced around my neck. She whispered, “True.”
My lips met hers on instinct, as though they’d been waiting for the word, for this moment, for a lifetime. A single brush of my lips against hers was like lightning rushing through me. She felt softer than flower petals. Tasted sweeter than honey.
She was hesitant at first. Slow and measured and gentle as we breathed each other in once, twice, again. I felt the moment her confidence took hold, followed her lead as she tilted her head and let me deepen the kiss.
How had I lived before this? I was consumed by her lips, her skin on mine. Altered by every fragment her fingers touched.
The story I’d told her about kissing my tutor was child’s play. This was a kiss. This was the feeling men sought, yearned their lifetime for, and I had it right here in my arms. I wanted this for the rest of my life.
Her fingers dug into the nape of my neck, urging me closer. I grinned into the kiss, and she did too. My hand in her hair moved down her back, pressing her close, pulling her closer, feeling her body against mine.
I took her bottom lip between my teeth, and she went utterly still.
“Ah. Well, I cannot say this is a surprise.”
Gabriel?
Georgiana shot up, leaving me cold and alone, and twisted around. “No, no—this is not what you think. We were . . .”
I sat up at her back, still dazed as Gabriel plopped into the seat nearest the hearth, darkened by shadows. “You’ve gotten sloppy, the both of you. Don’t you know half the house is still awake?”
“Gabriel . . .” I cleared my throat and ran a hand through my already mussed hair. Shifted my knees. “We—ah.”
“Yes.” He looked between us. “You were.”
I started to laugh at the irony of Gabriel catching me in this position.
“This was nothing,” Georgiana rushed to say. “You saw nothing. We were tired. That is all. Marlow meant nothing by it.”
“False.” I tugged on the strings of her robe. “But if you want to keep this a secret, he’ll oblige us. Won’t you, Gabriel?” I warned him with a look.
“Haven’t I for weeks now? You think you’re so secretive.
I come in halfway through the night, and the hearth is still burning.
Laughter, the clinking of foils. The door wide open.
The strangest of all was seeing candles moving in the forest.” He smirked at Georgiana.
“I know it was you who convinced him to give me that loan. And I am grateful. So, no. I won’t say anything.
But for heaven’s sake, do not act so foolishly with Her Grace three doors down. ”
He was right. For once in his life. We were indeed acting like foolish children.
My heart worked to recover a normal rhythm, more so when Georgiana looked fearfully at me over her shoulder. “It won’t happen again,” she said.
My throat went dry. “Don’t say that.”
“Yes, please. Do carry on.” Gabriel sniffed, turning away. “I’ll pretend to watch the fire like a good chaperone.”
“I thought I heard voices in here.” Maggie stood in the doorway.
Georgiana stood. She wrapped her arms around her middle. Her cheeks were rosy. Lips, a little swollen. Her hair was a mess from my fingers. I could not keep my eyes from studying her.
Deuces, had Gabriel not come in first, and stopped us . . .
“Couldn’t sleep,” Gabriel told her. “You too?”
Maggie narrowed her gaze at me. “What have I missed? Are you up to something?” Her eyes darted to Georgiana’s.
“We were”—I looked to Georgiana, but she gave me a warning look—“trying something new.”
“Under my ample supervision,” Gabriel added.
Maggie still looked confused. She blinked. Then she sat in Cleo’s chair, scrambling when Cleo stood and jumped down to wind around Georgiana’s ankles. “Are you playing some sort of game?”
Georgiana cleared her throat, Gabriel smirked, and devil take me if I wasn’t blushing like a schoolgirl.
“I should go.” Georgiana started toward the door.
“No—” Gabriel started.
“Please, don’t,” I begged.
“If you’re leaving, then so am I.” Maggie stood.
“Everyone settle down.” Gabriel picked up the fire poker and prodded the logs. “Are we close enough friends that I could have a whiskey in front of our dear Miss Wood?”
“Yes, of course,” Georgiana said softly. Had she moved closer to the door? Cleo stalked behind some bookshelves. Out the window, the night sky shimmered with starlight.
Gabriel’s glass clinked against the jug as he poured himself a drink. “What a night,” he almost cheered before taking a swig. “And all of us home at the same time.”
Maggie looked between us with a quirked brow. She sat back down in her seat. “Thomas went out with friends tonight. Apparently a fight broke out at the Club.”
“Typical.” Gabriel took another swig.
“Apparently one man asked the other’s wife for a kiss in exchange for settling her husband’s gambling debts. And she agreed.”
Georgiana’s brows shot up.
“That’s one way to do it.” Gabriel laughed. “I need a wife.”
“You need that investment to pan out,” I argued. “Then a wife.”
“Soon, then.” Gabriel held up his glass in salute, sure of himself. He leaned back against the cabinet. “Speaking of my investments. Do you remember that scientist who told me frog dung could heal fevers—”
Of course I did. “I remember he convinced you to fund his breakthrough discovery.”
Gabriel winced. “Turned out it was the willow bark it’d been sitting on, not the frog dung itself. But we were so close. That should’ve been the one.”
“Don’t act all innocent, Marlow.” Maggie crossed her legs. “Was it not you who assured us all that the next big scheme would be self-lighting candles?”
“I was fourteen,” I reminded her, “and they are coming. Wait a few years, and you’ll see.”
We all shared a laugh. I looked toward the door for Georgiana.
But she had disappeared.
Every good feeling vanished. “She’s gone.”
Gabriel threw back the rest of his whiskey. “She’s scared.”
“Of what?” Maggie asked. “What have you done, Lucas?”
“Nothing,” Gabriel enunciated. “Leave him be. We all need our beds. Tomorrow will bring clarity. Hmm?”
Wise words from Gabriel? Of all people. Though I doubted I would sleep at all.
“What?” he asked haughtily. “I have had my fair share of midnight regrets, Cousin. If there’s one thing I can advise on, it’s that.”
I had a solemn feeling I’d missed too much of his advice over the years. Anxious as I was to force him into line. To chasten him for ever stepping off of it. I never truly listened to the wisdom he gleaned from his mistakes.
Maggie scoffed. “I am too tired for your riddling. Good night.”
“Good night,” we said in tandem.
Gabriel poured himself another drink. Then pulled out a second glass.
“Trust me,” he said. “It’ll help you sleep this off.”
The only thing that would calm my mind was talking with Georgiana. But she’d left without saying anything. We’d acted impulsively, and she needed a moment to herself. I understood.
I didn’t need any more time to sort out my feelings. I did not want to waste another day without her. The dukedom would simply have to adjust. In time, Society would forget.
I would give Georgiana a night.
And then I’d make my intentions clear.