“Yes, I know it’s no secret they like to have a bit of fun”—Felix and Felicity cocked identical incredulous eyebrows at their mother at that comment, while Fitz remained staring at his plate—“but I am quite close with the dowager duchess, His Grace’s grandmama. They do not just fund the foundling home but take an active part in the home. A large reason they are in London for Christmas is so they can celebrate with the children.”
Georgiana’s heart instantly went gooey soft. Goodness, spending Christmas with children in need? Who would have guessed? The twin devils had hearts hidden behind their blackened exteriors. She was fortunate, she knew, to have had a warm home, with plenty of food, and two parents. But Christmas had always been exceptionally lonely in her home, and she couldn’t imagine what it must be like for children who didn’t even have families, who wouldn’t have a Christmas breakfast or dinner.
“That is unbelievably sweet,” she said, wonderment coating her voice. “Perhaps we could visit the foundling home when we are back in London.”
Fitz went whipcord straight next to her. She frowned at him, at his clenched jaw, the muscle ticking, teeth grinding. What on earth—
A violent slash drew her gaze away to her sister-in-law. Where Felicity was currently mutilating her cold ham with her fork. “Apparently, some rakes actually have hearts. Unlike certain spoiled ducal heirs who are probably too drunk off their arse to give back.”
“Flick,” Felix groaned. “Let us not get into this on Christmas.”
Fitz abruptly shoved back from the table and stood, dish clattering. “I need to leave.”
Georgiana glanced around the room, but everyone else seemed just as taken aback as she was. He was…announcing he must leave the table?
Fitz swallowed. “For London. Immediately.”
What?
“I need to make sure the townhouse is ready for Georgiana. I hadn’t informed the servants. Since I hadn’t planned on bringing home a wife.” He let out a forced chuckle. “But obviously, now I will be. Because”—he flicked his hand in Georgiana’s direction. “And, of course, business. So, I best be off.” He turned on his heel and left.
“Well, that was odd,” Felix said slowly.
“Even for Fitzy,” Felicity added, her amber brows pinched together.
Lydia was frowning after Fitz as well, her hands on the edge of the table as though she was about to get up and go after her son.
“I…suppose I should go up and pack as well, then?” Georgiana said to no one in particular. She had no idea what that had been about. As far as she was aware, they were to leave in two days for London. NotonChristmas day.
Felicity gave her a helpless shrug, no less confused than everyone else in the room. Lady Bentley sent her an encouraging nod, settling back in her own chair.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Georgiana pushed away from the table, shot everyone an uncertain smile, and left the breakfast room.
Once in the hallway, she quickened her pace and made her way to her husband’s chamber. She was sure after speaking with her husband this—whatever his odd outburst was—would be cleared up. She first tried his bedchamber, only to find a flurry of servants packing trunks, but no husband.
Finally, she found him in his study, sitting behind his desk, scrawling hastily. He signed his note with a flourish, folded and sealed it, and then glanced up, startling at the sight of her.
“We are leaving for London? Today?” she asked, stepping just inside the threshold of the room.
He frowned at her, shaking his head. “No… I am leaving for London. Today.”
She looked left and right. Answers, where were the answers to the litany of questions racketing through her brain? “Just you? Not me?”
“Correct. Is that not what I said? You shall travel with the rest of my family as originally planned.” He held up his freshly sealed letter. “But I have urgent business.” He tucked the letter into his coat pocket and patted it. “Must get to London today and have this delivered straight-away.”
“Could I? Travel to London with you, that is.”
Fitz’s eyes widened, and he blinked, frozen there like a marble statue whose eyes had been carved too large. She took that to mean he didnotwant her to come with him. She swallowed repeatedly, her throat suddenly not working as it should. Her mind instantly went back to when she was a little girl, trailing after her father, desperately wanting to join him in whatever task he was doing, anything. Always met with ano, poppet.Always met with a closed door. Always met with rejection.
“Hmm. You see. No. It will be better if you don’t.”
There it was. Her stupid, foolish, hopeful heart flattened like it had just been passed through a carding machine at her father’s textile factory.
“Yes, you will travel with the others,” Fitz was saying over the buzzing in her ears. He sent her a strained smile and then blurted, “More time to ready the townhouse!”
He stood from his desk and wiped his palms on his trousers. He made his way to her and stopped, wringing his hands in front of him. “I suppose I will see you, then?” His gaze fell everywhere but on her own.
“In two days’ time,” she parroted, not truly capable of much else. Because his words stung. Like a hoard of bees.
