Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
Georgiana rolled over, opening her eyes as the late morning sun poured in through the window. Her hand was draped across Ellis’s chest, and she turned and grinned into the mattress.
Last evening was... well, it was everything.
She sighed, happy and content, trying her best to remain calm. The doubts were already starting to creep in, and she just wanted to stay in this one blissful moment a little longer. She couldn’t get the smile off her face, and she loved his warm skin against hers—loved the smell of his cologne on her, her lips bruised from kissing, and that tender ache between her legs reminding her just what had happened between them last evening.
When they’d left the library and the ball, they returned home, but Georgiana didn’t return to her room. Ellis had pushed her up against the wall in the stairwell and kissed her, then lifted her, and playfully brought her into his room.
This time, their passion was shared and slow, their movements careful—no longer afraid of someone banging on the library door or others catching wind of what they were up to.
“Good morning,” he whispered, his voice rough from lack of sleep.
She pressed her fingers into his ribs and grinned up at him, even as she carefully assessed his face, waiting for him to pull away. She couldn’t stand to think of her heart being broken after last evening. She had hoped things were well on their way to a new beginning between them.
“Hello,” she said.
He pressed a soft kiss to her temple and then her forehead as his arm snaked around her and pulled her on top of him. She giggled, tugging a sheet to drape in front of her, even as he shook his head and reached up to kiss her neck.
There was a knock at the door, and she dove underneath the sheets with a squeak.
Ellis grumbled before shouting, “What is it?”
“There’s a problem, Linny,” Shaw called from the other side of the door. “You need to come now.”
He bent down to lift the sheets, his eyes still burning for her. “I’m not done yet, and I have the morning off. I’ll be back.”
He draped the sheet back over her but playfully patted her bum before throwing on a pair of pants.
She peeked out from beneath the sheets to watch him as he slipped out the door to follow Shaw.
Georgiana stretched, reached for a robe, and pulled it around herself. Then she heard a familiar voice that sent a chill up her spine, and she found herself frozen at the foot of Ellis’s bed.
Her brother.
“Where is she?” Sam demanded.
She heard a vase shatter against the wall, and she quickly found some slippers, threw them on her feet, pulled the robe tightly around her, and raced downstairs.
Ellis stood before her brother, his hands outstretched, pleading with him to leave.
“There you are.”
“What do you want, Sam?” she asked, crossing her arms. She remained on the stairs, trying her best to keep some distance between them, remembering the last time they were together, and the feel of his hand gripping her arm.
She hated the wildness in his eyes. She no longer recognized the man who stood before her. She had never been close with her brother, but this man might as well have been a stranger, long lost to his vices.
“Go back upstairs, Georgie,” Ellis snapped.
What was the point of that? She knew she’d thrown on slippers before she had come downstairs, but her feet were suddenly cold as were her fingers, and a shiver traced over her as her brother turned his attention toward her.
“Look at the prize you’ve got,” he said. “Happy, are you?”
Her ears began to ring, blocking out the rest of his insults. It was familiar enough for him to barrage her with cruel words until the walls around her closed in, and she made herself as small as possible and shrank away, hoping he would leave her alone. But today, his anger was nearly palpable. He reeked of alcohol. His clothes were ripped, torn, and stained.
“I lost my house because of you!” he shouted, and he charged at her.
“Georgie—” Ellis interceded, holding her brother back. “Sam, I don’t want to do this.”
“Do this? You were the one who kicked me out of my house.”
“I’ve been paying for that house,” Ellis reminded him. “I didn’t want you to lose it, but I can’t help you any longer, and I won’t allow you to hurt her any longer either.”
Georgiana sank down on the stairs, hugging her knees and pressing her face against the top of her legs, folding herself in together to make herself smaller.
“She is my sister!” Sam shouted. “She is obligated to give me money if I need it!”
Ellis shook his head, grabbing her brother’s collar and hauling him toward the door.
“She’s my wife, and we owe you nothing. You were my best friend, but this ends now, Sam. Don’t come back. Don’t touch Georgiana again. And if I hear you make any trouble, you’ll be paying a visit to the constable.”
Sam sputtered, his face turning red as he struggled to fight Ellis’s steady grip, crumbling at his feet.
“Out!” Ellis shouted.
Shaw grabbed Sam by the collar and dragged him into the street before closing and locking the door.
When Ellis turned around to face Georgiana, her heart broke—not only for her brother but for Ellis. She knew now that what he had done was done out of love, that he cared for her and the family the best way he knew how, even when he himself was deeply hurt.
“I’m choosing you,” he said, his voice rough. Then he scooped her up, carried her upstairs, and brought her into bed. “You, Georgiana.”
Ellis gazed down at Georgiana, struggling to catch his breath. Sam’s threats still rang in his ears, but it was the sight of her—chin lifted, eyes bright with unshed tears—that made his chest ache. He’d thought providing a home and protection could substitute for what she truly needed. What a fool he’d been.
Ellis wouldn’t allow her to be hurt any longer or used to threaten him. With Sam, there would always be another drink, another bet, and he would always lose.
“I’m sorry, Georgie,” he said, reaching to tuck a slip of honey hair behind her ear.
She twisted the bedsheets in her hand. “I don’t want to be the reason there’s trouble here at the club,” she murmured. “You’ve worked so hard…”
“No, you are not the reason for any of this. I am.” He ran a hand through his hair, the weight of every missed opportunity pressing down on him. “This wasn’t even the first time he came looking for you.”
Her eyes narrowed, and his heart twisted. How many times had he missed that quiet strength, too caught up in his own guilt to truly see her?
“I’m sorry.” Ellis’s voice was barely a whisper. “For Sam. For not seeing the pain he put you through. For pulling away when you needed me.” He exhaled sharply, his fists clenching and releasing. “And for hiding after we married, burying myself in the club, too afraid…”
Too afraid he would lose her, fail her—not be enough. But no longer.
He stepped closer, searching her face as if he could make her understand. “I barged into your life, demanding you marry me without asking what you wanted. No one ever has, have they?”
Ellis bent forward, leaning on the bed, his gaze pleading. “Kitten, tell me what you want. Tell me—even if it’s not this… us .”
She held his eyes, her voice soft but certain. “Only ever you,” she said, the quiet confession striking him like a blow. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
He jerked upright, pacing to the window, his pulse pounding as he scanned the street, relieved to see Sam gone. Shaw had followed his orders, but the thought of what could have happened still clawed at him.
He turned back to her, shoulders tense. “You’ve been hurt so much, Georgie. I never wanted to add to that, but I have.” His voice cracked slightly. “I buried myself in that club the same way I once drowned myself in London’s darker corners—chasing escape. And when Dinah died…” He let out a shaky breath. “I was wrecked, and I just ran harder. I’ve spent so long running from happiness, convinced I didn’t deserve it.”
He hesitated, swallowing hard. “But you never demanded anything from me. You just quietly filled these rooms with color and warmth until I forgot why I was running. You are so much more than an obligation, Georgie.”
She went very still. “Ellis?—”
Ellis sat at the edge of the bed, his gaze steady, fear and hope warring in his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice raw. “Not just for Sam—though I’d throw him out a thousand times to make you feel safe here. I’m sorry for making you feel like a guest in your own life. Forever letting you think you’d be anything less than the center of mine.”
Georgiana reached for his hand, her fingers warm and steady, grounding him. She didn’t speak, but her gaze held him, patient and fierce in a way that made his pulse quicken.
He took a breath, steeling himself, leaning closer until they were almost eye to eye. “The truth is, I’ve never known what it means to stand still, to want something real. Until you.” His voice softened. “If you’ll let me, Georgiana… if you’ll trust me, I’ll be the man—the husband—you need.”
For a moment, he just looked at her, gathering courage from the soft assurance in her eyes. God, those eyes of hers. They always did haunt him.
“Georgiana, I’m in love with you. I think I’ve loved you longer than I’ve let myself admit. I thought I could protect you without… without falling this deeply, needing you this much. But I do, and it terrifies me. I love you.”
He pulled in a shaky breath. “I don’t deserve you, and I don’t know if I ever will, but I can’t lose you. I need you, Georgiana.”
Her expression softened, a glimmer of something tender shining through her quiet strength. “Ellis,” she whispered, brushing her thumb across his knuckles, “all I’ve ever wanted was you. I’ve been in love with you since that night you found me in the stable.”
An unsteady laugh escaped him, and he pulled her close, their foreheads touching. “Say it again,” he murmured, his voice almost a plea. “Please. Just once more.”
“I’ve dreamt of saying it every day. First thing in the morning and last thing before I drift off to sleep. So let me start.” Her lips curved as she whispered, “I love you, Ellis.”
Ellis’s breath hitched as he drew her close, his heart pounding, and he kissed her—not out of desperation, but with the kind of steady, reverent longing he’d kept buried too long. Their lips met, slow and tender, a quiet promise lingering between them, unspoken but deeply felt.
A tear slipped down her cheek, but her smile—God, that smile could bring him to his knees. “I love you too.” She squeezed his hand. “Even when you were trying so hard not to love me back.”
Ellis tugged her closer until their foreheads touched again. “I’m done trying not to love you.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek, catching another tear. “My beautiful, brilliant wife. Who fills my world with color and makes me believe in second chances.”
When she kissed him, it was a promise, sweet and sure, of all the mornings they'd wake together, all the joy they’d create. His hands tangled in her hair as she leaned closer, and he tasted the salt of her tears, the curve of her smile.
“Stay with me?” she whispered against his mouth.
Ellis gathered her close, his heart full and, finally, perfectly at peace. “Always.”