Chapter Twenty-Six
By now, they had settled into a kind of routine, though the lovemaking itself changed from night to night. Sometimes Georgiana
took her time undressing Caroline, deliberating over every single button until Caroline was ready to throw all her clothes
into the nearest hearth. Sometimes there seemed to be no time for any removal of clothes, only bodies propped against a nearby
wall, panting and writhing in mutual ecstasy. Today had been somewhere in between, which Caroline thought she might enjoy
the most—alternating between sensuous embraces and rough hands palming all the most sensitive parts of her with wild abandon.
“Closer,” she gasped, wrapping her legs around Georgiana and pulling their bodies flush. “I need to feel every inch of you.”
Georgiana groaned and buried her face in Caroline’s shoulder, landing open-mouthed kisses on every patch of skin within reach.
“You make me feel as if I am losing my mind.”
You make me certain I have already lost mine, Caroline thought.
Georgiana never stayed—once they’d finished their lovemaking, they returned to one of the communal rooms downstairs or separated to their own chambers.
Tonight, though, Georgiana had looked down at her with something like longing, and the expression pierced her heart with such yearning that she could not help the words tumbling out of her mouth.
“Stay,” she said, when Georgiana began to slide out of bed. “Stay a little, at least.”
Miss Darcy froze. “What for?”
Caroline ignored the twinge of hurt in her chest. Did she really need a reason to justify lying together once the act was
over? “Could we just . . . lie together for a while? And then you may leave as you wish.”
After a moment, Georgiana nodded and lay back down, though she was much stiffer than she had been only a minute before. Caroline
draped an arm across her, discomfort prickling down her spine, and waited until Georgiana relaxed a little before creeping
closer. Even so, Miss Darcy did not seem exactly happy about their positions. Caroline sighed. “You may leave if you hate
this so much. I will not ask you to endure it again.”
“I do not hate it. I simply . . . Is this not what lovers do?” Georgiana whispered. The pulse in her neck fluttered rapidly
under Caroline’s fingers, which was odd; surely, she could not still be out of breath from their previous endeavours.
“I thought we just did what lovers do,” Caroline said, baffled.
“Never mind.” Miss Darcy turned her face away.
It was clear she’d said the wrong thing—good Lord, how often that had happened of late—but she had no idea why. “You do recall,
don’t you,” she murmured, “that I would have no way of knowing what lovers do? For you have been my only one.”
Georgiana swallowed, turning back to face Caroline. The candle flame guttered behind her, casting a vivid halo around her fair hair. “I did not— I mean, sometimes I rather forget.” She hesitated. “You think of me as your lover?”
Caroline blinked. Rather a stupid question, given what we just did. However, she’d learned by now not to say the first thing which immediately came to mind. “That depends,” she said, choosing
her words carefully. “What does it mean, exactly?”
“It may mean something different to every person.”
That was the most evasive answer she’d ever heard. Caroline waited, studying Georgiana’s face in the flickering candlelight,
though Miss Darcy’s expression was an unfamiliar one. Georgiana sighed. “I suppose that it might mean a person whom one takes
to bed. Or perhaps a person to whom one is . . .” She trailed off, running a hand through her hair, making it look even more
of a glorious mess than it already was. “Inclined?” she finished, sounding surprisingly uncertain.
“Inclined?” Caroline repeated.
“Yes. Inclined.” Georgiana’s lips pressed together, and she seemed unlikely to say more. In fact, she rather looked as if
she were holding her breath.
“In that case, I think it fair to say that I am very inclined towards you,” Caroline said, and braced for the impact her words
might have. The silence stretched on and on, and just when she was beginning to think she’d made a mistake, Georgiana swooped
down and caught her lips in a kiss so soft and tender that it fairly took her breath away.
Inclined, Caroline thought. Predisposed. Perhaps even preferred. All those words which had once seemed so silly to apply to another person were now starting to make sense.
“Will you come here, Georgie?” she asked, opening her arms. “Will you let me hold you?”
Hesitantly, Georgiana turned, sliding an arm across Caroline’s stomach, bringing their bodies flush together again.
They’d been skin to skin only minutes before, but this felt different.
Caroline’s skin tingled where Georgiana pressed against her, but the feeling left her dreamy and sleepy rather than wide awake.
She wrapped her arms around the soft body, holding it to her tightly, and felt Georgiana hum with contentment. “Are you comfortable like this?”
“Very,” came the quiet reply, though something in her voice suggested it wasn’t a completely honest answer.
“Might we risk falling asleep together?” she murmured, aware that the edges of her consciousness had begun to blur.
“I shouldn’t really, but I—” Georgiana shifted. “Are you sure you want me to stay?”
“Of course I do.” The comfortable weight of sleep had already begun to descend, pulling her down into darkness. She wasn’t
sure why it was even a question. What could be more pleasant than holding each other after a rigorous bout of lovemaking?
“Don’t you want to?”
She was asleep before Georgiana answered.
In the morning, Caroline awoke to the shift of the mattress beneath her, the roll of it suggesting a body had recently vacated
the area next to her. She blinked groggily as Georgiana gathered her clothes from the floor, evidently intending to be quiet.
“Where are you going?”
Startled, Georgiana jumped, clutching a petticoat to her naked chest. “Apologies. I was trying not to wake you.”
“Must you leave?” Caroline complained. “You were so lovely and warm.”
“You surely do not wish me to be bare in your bed when the maid comes in to light the fire, do you?”
It was a fair point, though when Caroline thought about it, she realised that the maid had not been coming in first thing
in the morning for almost a week now. At first, she’d attributed this to the new warmth of the season, which no longer necessitated
a fire to be constructed immediately, but now that she considered the idea, she wondered if there was more to it. Did Mrs
Reynolds suspect the affair? And if so, had the housekeeper sought to shield their activities from the staff? Caroline frowned,
thinking the matter over.
Is it possible that Mrs Reynolds disapproves so heartily that—
“Hmm?” Georgiana said, evidently expecting a response.
“Have it your way,” Caroline said, spreading her limbs wide and stretching, enjoying the view as Georgiana struggled into
her dress. “I shall see you at breakfast, Miss Darcy. Though I am sad to note that I shan’t see quite so much of you.”
“You shall be the death of me, Miss Bingley,” Georgiana muttered, though she threw Caroline an amused look. With a blown kiss,
Miss Darcy exited the room, leaving Caroline to drift back into the snug pink arms of sleep.
When Caroline woke that morning, she found a hastily written note pinned to her pillow, informing her that Georgiana had gone
for a morning swim and might be late to breakfast.
Caroline stretched, feeling her body ache in wonderful places, then burrowed into the other side of the bed, pressing her face into the sheets which still smelled like her lover, dusky and dark as the roses Georgiana loved so much.
Only a second growl of hunger from her stomach finally drove her out of bed, grumbling at the thought of having to wash and dress before she could eat.
Sunshine poured through the window of the guest room when she pulled open the curtains, and she allowed herself a quiet moment of joyful reflection to bask in the warmth before turning to her ablutions.
Caroline selected a rather ordinary but serviceable cream gown then dabbed a little perfume behind her ears.
Her reflection in the looking glass had always shown a beautiful lady, but now she was radiant, glowing, in the full flush of gorgeous womanhood.
Unexpectedly, the sight made Caroline falter, her bright smile fading in an instant. Her affair with Miss Darcy was wonderful
in so many ways, but they had agreed it was supposed to be something they did only until Caroline found a husband. Somewhere
along the way, Caroline had forgotten about the purpose of the Great Endeavour. No, she thought, not forgotten, for I have become a better version of myself, have I not?
That much was demonstrably true: She had improved herself, become kinder, and shown that she was capable of love. Only . . .
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
And where did that leave her? Still unmarried, still uninterested in the suitors who had so far been presented to her, and
deeply, stupidly in love with a woman whom she had promised to never ask anything more of. Even if Georgiana felt the same
way—and Caroline swallowed, knowing what folly it was to hope—Miss Darcy had once been in love with a man, if one could call
such a worm as George Wickham so, and therefore should be able to do so again. Georgiana could easily find a suitable match
if she wished to marry and live out the rest of her life without any shadow of impropriety hanging over her.
Why, then, would she ever choose Caroline?
She would not, Caroline thought. She made that very clear from the start. Even if Georgiana felt something, and it was by no means certain that those feelings plumbed the same depths and dizzying
heights as Caroline’s own, she still had a much easier route open to her. And from what Caroline knew of Georgiana, her friend