Her heart gave a treacherous leap. Whatever was brewing between them? Could Mrs. Ellsworth see the desire Georgiana had been trying so desperately to hide?
“He doesn’t want to marry,” she said quickly, as if speaking the words aloud could protect her from her own feelings. “He told me so himself. He thinks he’s not capable of love. He sees himself as broken. Too broken to love or be loved.”
“If we were to search back in time, we’d find a lot of happily married men who claimed they never wanted to wed.”
She felt herself teetering on the edge of a precipice she’d sworn never to approach. Georgiana’s breath caught as she imagined James changing his mind, imagined him looking at her with real desire, real want. The kind of passion she’d only read about in books, the kind Robert had never been able to give her.
The kitchen door creaked open.
“Forgive me, I forgot my—” James’s voice cut off abruptly.
Georgiana’s mouth went dry as dust. There he stood in the doorway, his shirt partially unbuttoned, his hair mussed as if he’d been running his hands through it. His gaze found hers immediately, and she saw his eyes widen as he took in her appearance—hair loose and damp around her shoulders, wearing only her thin nightgown, thefirelight playing across her face.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The moment stretched taut as a bowstring between them. The very air seemed to hum with awareness. His gaze dropped to her lips, then lower, and she felt her body respond to that look in ways it never had during her marriage.
“I… my book,” he said, his voice raspy. “I left it on the table.”
“Yes, it’s there, my lord,” Mrs. Ellsworth said.
He blinked, almost as if he’d forgotten his loyal housekeeper stood just behind Georgiana.
“Thank you. Sorry to interrupt. I didn’t realize…what was happening down here.”
“It is of no consequence,” Georgiana said. She couldn’t seem to look away from the triangle of skin visible at his throat, couldn’t stop imagining what it would feel like to press her lips there.
James grabbed a leather-bound volume from the far end of the table, his movements quick and almost clumsy. “Good night, ladies.” His eyes lingered on Georgiana for just a moment too long before he retreated.
The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving the kitchen in charged silence.
Mrs. Ellsworth cleared her throat delicately. “Well then.”
Georgiana’s face burned. Her hands were shaking now, and she gripped them together in her lap to still them. Understanding crashed into her with startling clarity—she wasn’t just falling for James. She was already gone, completely and utterly lost to feelings sure to break her heart in the end.
For the first time in her life, she understood what it meant to truly want someone. Not just companionship or security, but real, consuming desire. The kind that made her breath catch and her skin burn.
“I had not anticipated him coming down here,” Georgiana said. “Or I would not be in my nightgown.”
“I shouldn’t worry too much,” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “He seemed asflustered as you.”
“I seemed flustered?”
“Dear one, surely you cannot imagine otherwise? Even I could feel the heat between you.”
“Mrs. Ellsworth!” But Georgiana couldn’t help but laugh at her perceptive new friend.
“These old eyes have witnessed much in their time, child. It takes a lot to fool me.”
As Mrs. Ellsworth finished braiding her hair, Georgiana couldn’t shake the image of the way James had looked at her, or the way her own body had responded to that look. She was frightened by the intensity of her own feelings, by how much she wanted something she could never have.
And she was even more terrified that she was already in too deep to save herself.
*
That night, feelinggood from their baths, the sisters slipped into freshly made beds. Mrs. Ellsworth had been busy. The sheets and blankets were clean and smelled of soap.
“This is a wonderful bed,” Cecily said, sleepily. “Mrs. Ellsworth has been too good to us today.”
Georgiana snuffed out the lamp on the table between the twin beds and pulled the covers up to her chin. She always slept on her back, whereas her little sister curled into a ball like a cat. Georgiana could remember many times during their childhood when Cecily had climbed into bed with her big sister, claiming she was cold, but Georgiana suspected she was lonely or frightened. Their childhood had been fraught with their parents’ cold and silent arguments, their mother’s volatile behavior and their father’s drinking and gambling. They’d clung to each other and still did.
