Heat flooded Georgiana’s cheeks. “Oh, yes. Thank you.” Sheforced herself to focus on the women around the table, grateful for the dim lighting that might hide her blush.
It was a cozy scene, with the warm fire crackling in the hearth and good company around the table. But Georgiana’s gaze kept drifting toward the ceiling, as if she could see through the floorboards to where James might be moving about his room.
Cecily had spent much of the afternoon looking at the glasshouse in one of the gardens where they had once grown vegetables and fruits for the manor. Ben had made suggestions for how to bring it back to life, and Cecily had not been able to contain her excitement as she described the plans during supper. James had been clearly pleased with the ideas and had promised Cecily a few workers to create her vision.
“You’re distracted tonight,” Cecily observed, studying her sister’s face. “More than usual.”
“Am I?” Georgiana attempted a light laugh. “I suppose I’m tired.”
“Mmm.” Cecily’s knowing look suggested she wasn’t fooled. “Tired from Mother.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” Georgiana and Cecily exchanged a knowing glance. No one understood the trial that was Lady Linley more than the two sisters.
Georgiana had adored her little sister from the moment she was born. She’d been a little mother to her, even though there were only four years difference in age between them. With a mother like Lavinia, it had been left to Georgiana to make sure Cecily felt loved and cared for. They were unusually close, even now that they were grown. But that closeness meant her sister could untangle her secrets as easily as unknotting embroidery thread. And, she, in turn could do the same with Cecily.
Georgiana had never seen her sister so engaged or enamored with a project as she was about the gardens. She had spent evenings drafting her ideas on paper. James had found her a book in the library about plants, which she had pored over to learn what she could.
Georgiana had assumed Cecily would be an excellent assistant, but the more they worked together, the more impressed she became. Her little sister was a woman of many talents.
“What I wouldn’t do for a good wash.” Cecily ran a hand through her tangled curls. “I think I’ve still got half the garden soil hiding in here.”
“I would love one too,” Georgiana said. “Mother may have had a valid point about my appearance.”
“Nonsense. You girls are beautiful,” Mrs. Ellsworth said, sounding loyal.
“I can heat water for you,” Mrs. Honeycutt said. “We have a tub in the scullery. You can take turns.”
Mrs. Ellsworth, smoothing down her apron, gave a fond smile. “With your permission, I’ll assist you. I used to be a lady’s maid back before I was promoted to head housekeeper. I can still remember how to wash and fix a lady’s hair.”
Georgiana raised a brow. “Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?”
“Not at all,” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “It will be my pleasure.”
Cecily jumped to her feet. “I’ll get our nightgowns to change into afterward. Georgie, you can go first, since you’re the oldest. That’s how we always did it at home, remember?”
After Mrs. Honeycutt and Mrs. Ellsworth had filled the tub, Georgiana slipped into the warm water, sighing with pleasure. She scrubbed her body with soap that smelled of lavender, but even the simple act of washing herself made her think of other hands on her skin. Stronger hands. James’s hands.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Ellsworth came in to wash her hair.
Mrs. Ellsworth used a pitcher to wet Georgiana’s hair, then scrubbed her scalp with strong fingers. The touch was firm and sure, and Georgiana’s treacherous mind immediately wondered what it would feel like to have James’s fingers threading through her hair, his palms cupping her head as he—
“Goodness,” she breathed, her voice catching.
“Are you all right, dear?” Mrs. Ellsworth paused.
“Yes, that just… feels very good,” Georgiana managed, her pulse quickening at her own wayward thoughts.
“You have lovely hair. The color of a corn tassel,” Mrs. Ellsworth said.
“Thank you.” Georgiana’s voice sounded strained even to her own ears as Mrs. Ellsworth poured one final rinse over her hair.
When she was done, Mrs. Ellsworth left her alone to step out of the tub and dry herself with a towel before getting into her nightgown. She felt anything but relaxed, her body humming with an awareness she couldn’t shake.
Cecily went next, while Mrs. Ellsworth had Georgiana sit by the stove in the kitchen and went to work on Georgiana’s damp hair, using a brush to untangle knots.
“Did you have a maid when you were married?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked.
Georgiana hesitated. The question felt like stepping onto unstable ground. “We had a modest household. Robert preferred things simple.”
