Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Your outburst was entirely unwarranted, Georgianna Darington, and you know this,” Nathaniel said firmly.
“You should never have thrown your toy. That is not how we react when we are frightened or upset, and it is certainly not what people do. I have spent years trying to teach you that throwing tantrums is not a way to solve anything.”
Georgianna kept her eyes fixed firmly on the grass, her small fingers picking at the hem of her pinafore.
They were sitting on a wide, woolen blanket spread across the velvet lawns of the lower gardens, the ancient oaks of Greymoor casting long, cool shadows over the afternoon spread.
A wicker basket sat open between them, half-filled with untouched pastries and small sandwiches. Nathaniel looked out over the rolling estate, a sigh escaping him. He honestly had no idea why he had agreed to this ridiculous picnic.
Yet, the moment he had returned to his own chambers that night, his mind had refused to let the suggestion go. The image of Euphemia standing in the hallway, bleeding and yet completely focused on comforting his daughter, had burned itself behind his eyelids.
They had never done something like this before, never simply sat out in the open air as a family without the structure of the dining room or the nursery.
He had found himself wondering if Euphemia might actually be right.
Perhaps a change of atmosphere was precisely what Georgianna needed to break through her internal winter.
When morning broke, the thought had lingered so stubbornly that he had given the orders to the kitchens before he could talk himself out of it.
“She was in my space,” Georgianna grumbled under her breath, her jaw setting in a stubborn line that mirrored his own far too closely. “She was trying to come closer. To Cordelia.”
“You will listen to me, Georgianna,” Nathaniel countered, his tone hardening just enough to make the little girl look up.
“I am well aware that you are having a difficult time adapting to the new state of things. I know Euphemia’s presence in this house is a change you did not ask for.
But I absolutely forbid you from ever attempting to harm anyone again, especially her.
She is not the monster from your dreams, and you will not treat her as such.
This is reality, not your nightmare, and you must learn the difference. ”
Georgianna swallowed, the defiance in her shoulders dropping slightly at her father’s rare sharpness. “Yes, Papa. I understand.”
Nathaniel nodded once, though the tension in his own chest didn’t quite ease. He looked away from his daughter, his thoughts drifting back to the dark corridor from the night before.
Truthfully, he had spent weeks enforcing strict boundaries within the house precisely to avoid this kind of entanglement.
He had wanted to keep his children separate, to shield them from the inevitable complications of his match.
But Euphemia had drawn a clear line of her own during their previous arguments.
She had made it entirely plain that if he intended to keep her locked away like a ghost, completely isolated from his life and his daughters, she would rather walk away from the marriage entirely.
But he had managed to convince her to stay.
Instead, she had stood her ground, defending a child who had just drawn blood.
Since she was so fiercely determined to be a part of their lives, he had decided it was best to simply let her try.
He would see where this path led, even if it felt entirely unfamiliar.
His fingers tightened imperceptibly against his knee as he remembered the precise moment he had stepped into her bedchamber.
When he had first seen the thin trail of blood welling on Euphemia’s wrist, an unfamiliar, suffocating sensation had squeezed his heart so violently it had nearly stolen his breath.
He had despised it. He despised the fact that his own daughter had been the one to inflict that wound, to break the peace of the house so aggressively.
Nathaniel forced the memory down, deliberately smoothing his expression into a mask of cool detachment.
He refused to analyze that sudden, painful squeeze in his chest any further.
He did not want to think of it as anything more than a father’s natural outrage at his daughter’s poor behavior.
It was simply the principle of the matter, he was upset because Georgianna had hurt a member of his household.
He absolutely did not want to imagine that the true source of his fury was the intolerable sight of Euphemia being hurt.
A flash of white fabric caught Nathaniel’s eye as Euphemia moved across the lower lawn, having spent the last twenty minutes thoroughly distracted by Cordelia and the estate hound. She had been running through the grass, her laughter carrying a surprisingly light note on the afternoon breeze.
Now, she walked over to where he and Georgianna sat, carrying something carefully in both hands.
As she approached the edge of the woolen blanket, she sank down gracefully onto the grass, offering them a bright, entirely unbothered smile.
She was holding Georgianna’s porcelain doll.
It was undeniably a fractured version of its former self, the clean crack down the middle of its face was now filled with a dark line of adhesive, and the limbs had been bound back together with tiny stitches.
“I managed to fix it,” Euphemia said softly, holding the toy out toward the little girl.
“I know it isn’t as pretty as it used to be, but it broke into rather large pieces, so it was mostly salvageable.
Back home, my hands grew entirely used to fixing dolls for my sisters, so putting this one back together was quite easy. ”
Georgianna stared at the doll, her small fingers twitching before she slowly reached out and took it from Euphemia’s hands.
She pulled the toy close to her chest, her pale eyes darting up to look at Euphemia’s face, but she said absolutely nothing.
She offered no smile, no nod, and entirely withheld a thank you.
Nathaniel felt his jaw tighten. He opened his mouth, fully intending to intervene and demand that his daughter show proper manners, but he caught himself.
The memory of the shrill, echoing screams from the midnight corridor was still far too fresh.
The last thing he wanted this afternoon was to push Georgianna into another defensive panic, risking another explosive outburst in front of Euphemia.
Instead, he smoothed his expression and looked down at the little girl. “Why don’t you go and play with Cordelia for a while, Georgianna?”
Georgianna looked at her sister, who was currently tossing a stick for the hound a short distance away, and then looked down at the mended porcelain in her lap. “I don’t like dogs anyway,” she mumbled under her breath.
“Regardless,” Nathaniel countered. “You should go and play with your sister for a little while before you come back to sit with us. It is a picnic, after all.”
Georgianna hesitated for only a second before pushing herself up from the blanket, cradling the fractured doll tightly under her arm. She trotted off across the grass toward the trees, leaving the two of them entirely alone, seated together in the shade of the oaks.
Nathaniel watched his daughters fade into the distance before he broke the silence that had settled over the lawn. He shifted his weight on the blanket, sitting up straighter as he adjusted his cuffs.
“Our honeymoon is drawing to an end,” he mentioned and cleared his throat. “We will soon be expected to begin attending social events in town.”
Euphemia turned her head toward him, her brows drawing together in a puzzled expression. She studied him for a moment before an amused smile touched her lips. “I must confess, I never pegged you to be a man who willingly attends social gatherings, Your Grace.”
“I am not,” Nathaniel admitted flatly.
“I know,” she said, her voice laced with a gentle teasing. “You have a formidable reputation for being almost like a ghost in society. No one truly knows a lot about you because you so rarely grace the ton with your presence.”
Nathaniel allowed his gaze to drift across the grass.
He knew their honeymoon period had been decidedly quiet, perhaps even boring by the standard of newlyweds, but it had been entirely necessary.
From the moment the marriage was settled, he had put a great deal of effort and influence into motion behind the scenes.
He had done everything in his power to ensure the gossip regarding their initial scandal did not travel far, crafting a careful, much more palatable narrative.
The official story was that he and Euphemia had already been quietly getting to know one another, which perfectly explained why they had been found together in the hallway that night.
But a managed narrative required maintenance.
“It is a necessary precaution now,” he explained, turning his eyes back to her.
“I want to ensure that any lingering whispers about our scandal are completely forgotten so they do not affect us or the girls any longer. Now that we are wed, accepting one or two select invitations to prominent society events will solidify our position and put an end to the rumors entirely.”
Euphemia nodded slowly. “All right. That is ideal, and it makes perfect sense. I will be ready.”
As she spoke, Nathaniel found his eyes wandering over what she was wearing.
For the afternoon in the gardens, she had eschewed her usual stiff, structured indoor gowns for something far more practical.
She wore a beautifully tailored day dress of soft, breathable cotton in a pale, warm hue that caught the dappled sunlight streaming through the oaks.
It lacked the heavy bustles and restrictive ornamentation of her formal attire, featuring instead a simple, elegant bodice and a skirt that allowed her to move with complete freedom.