The Duke slowly backed away as Fitz approached Georgiana, neither taking their eyes off each other, as though at any moment one would lunge for the other.
The Duke stepped into the doorway and tipped an imaginary topper. “Best of luck to you two.” Then he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him.
The tension holding her husband’s body went limp, and he rushed the rest of the way to her, crushing her into his chest. His arms squeezed the breath right from her, his nose burying into her hair.
“God, I pushed you right into the arms of-of another man, the man you’ve always wanted,” his mumbled words drifted to her ears.
She nudged at his stomach where her hands were trapped, and he reluctantly loosened his hold. She searched his volatile amber eyes. “So you didn’t set up a rendezvous with me and the Duke, then?”
“No,no.” He shook his head emphatically, his rich, brown curls flopping. “I-I… Is that what you want?” His chin jerked back, and his eyes went wide, panic or hurt or fear—maybe all three—swirling like a tempest there. The room went silent, her husband’s ragged breathing stalling.
“No, it’s not what I want, Fitz,” she said gently. She slid her hands up and down his chest soothingly. “And what on earth did you mean, ‘the man I’ve always wanted’?”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and looked away. “I overheard you speaking with Felicity when we were in Kent. The day we went out for those bloody trees.” He met her gaze. “You had said you had been waiting for the Duke that night I accidentally compromised you. That he, and the things he partook in”—he waved his arm around the bedroom—“were what you desired. The Duke is everything you could ever ask for in a man. And I’m—”
“No,” she said sharply, fisting his cravat. “No, Fitz. You have that completely wrong. That man who just left hasnothingI desire. He and I may share an interest in certain proclivities. But there is only one man I desire. One man I desire to do those things with.” She slid her hand up and gripped his chin. “And that man is you.”
Instead of the relief she was expecting, her husband stared at her like she had five heads. “You want me?” He circled his hand in front of him. “This whole mess?” His forehead wrinkled, and his expression oozed skepticism. “Are you sure? Because I’m fairly certain I just made a complete hash of things this past sennight. I have been the biggest idiot. Repeatedly. I have been just piling on the idiocy left and right, building the largest tower of idiocy ever known to man.”
She breathed out a chuckle. “You have been a bit idiotic,” she agreed. “But you’re my idiot,” she said tenderly, smiling up at him.
His forehead dropped against hers. “I want to be your idiot,” he whispered.
Her chest swelled. With hope. With love.
“I’m so sorry, Gigi,” he murmured. “I never intended to hurt you, to make you feel as though you are not the only woman in this entire world I want. Because there is no one else for me. You are my person, Gigi. I can feel it deep in my bones. I never thought that person existed, not for someone like me.”
He drew in a slow breath. “I’m different, and I’ve accepted that, learned to live with who I am. But then you came into my life and quite literally knocked me off my feet. I felt things, things I can’t even put into words. For a while, I thought perhaps I was having some indigestion. But now I know what it is. I’ve finally found someone I fit with. When you’re in my arms, God, I feel like I belong, like I’ve found my place in this world. And I’m terrified—terrified I will do something incredibly Fitz-like and ruin this, lose this, lose you.”
Georgiana swore her heart was at risk of taking flight, light and untethered like one of those grand balloons.
“You won’t lose me, Fitz,” she whispered, the emotion tightening her throat, not allowing for anything more.
Her hands slid up his chest to his shoulders, under the lapels of his coat. She pushed slightly, and he helped her slide the coat off.
“Even when I had believed the worst,” she finally said. “I wasn’t going anywhere.” She met his heady amber irises. “I was crushed”—her voice faltered, her heart lurching at the memory of when she feared the worst—“but I was determined to see if we could work through it.”
His hands came up to cradle her face; warm, reassuring, safe. “I’m so bloody sorry, Gigi.”
But those rich mahogany eyes swam with fear.
“You won’t lose me,” she reiterated, injecting strength into her tone.
Her husband needed this. Needed to know she was wholeheartedly committed to him, to them. Unwavering. Because standing in front of her right now? She thought might be the young man who had been tossed over for his brother. But Fitzwilliam Jennings deserved to know he was the one someone chose. He deserved the world, to be someone’s world. And he was her world.
“We’ll work through every bumble you come up with, Fitz. I promise. With plenty of conversation and clarifying questions until we are certain we are both on the same page. I don’t care how many pages it takes to get us there, I’d read an entire book, if that is what it took.”
Georgiana had fought much of her life with nothing but a flicker of hope fueling her. Now that she had something truly worth fighting for? There was nothing in this world that could ever take it from her.
Georgiana’s husband sighed against her lips and pressed a soft kiss to them.
Finally, she had answers. Finally, they seemed to be making their way out of this muddle. There was one thing that still confused her, however. Her husband had just stormed into this room, snarling and spitting like an enraged mongoose. He looked poised to kill the Duke for possibly touching her, forhertouching the Duke.Urghh, bloody delicious.
But at the Rutledge supper party when he quite clearly saw her talking—flirting—with the Duke and Lord Dunmore…he had turned his back. As though he didn’t care.
“You’ve gone quiet,” he murmured.
She leaned back and caught his amber gaze. “I…It is just… at the Rutledge’s,” she said, voicing her doubts. “I had been speaking with the Duke and Lord Dunmore…”
