“What about you?”
“I’m not enough either.”
“Can’t you wait till I get back?”
“I’m afraid not.” Especially since she didn’t know when that would be. She forebore telling him, though. She figured he knew.
For a long few moments, he focused on his meal, and she focused on watching him do so, wishing with all her heart they could have a normal marriage. Amorenormal marriage. One in which she could rely on him to be available when she needed him.
She almost laughed out loud. Not that husbands she had known had been particularly observant of that behavior. Even her father, one of the smartest, most decisive politicians in London, could prove himself particularly absent when needed at home, as if all his skills were reserved for other people. But then, truth to tell, Georgie knew that her mother cherished her unique position in diplomatic circles.
Well. She thought she did. Did she have the courage to ask?
“What else, madame wife?”
His voice snapped her to attention. What else…?
She focused on her fish for a moment as she tried to prioritize. “Do you intend the girls should ride?”
He paused, considered. “Don’t you think they’d enjoy it?” He seemed particularly interested.
She smiled. “You obviously haven’t noticed the condition of the nursery rocking horse. Besides, Sophie needs something to spend her energy on besides climbing.”
His grin was a thing of beauty that did unspeakable things to Georgie’s equanimity. She caught herself rubbing her free hand against her dress, as if that would cure damp palms.
“Well,” he said. “I can ask my sister if we could borrow Wilson from home to work with them. He put me on my first pony.”
She nodded. “He can be trusted to pick the ponies?”
“Oh, good Lord, yes.”
She nodded, trying hard to think of the arrangements they had to think of, but too distracted by the hum that wouldn’t fade in her body. That anticipation that built inexorably.
“What about you?” he asked.
She looked up, startled. “What about me what?”
His smile was conspiratorial. “Do you ride?”
She blinked, struggled to focus on the matter at hand. “Oh. Yes. Yes, I do.”
He took a sip of wine, and she was distracted by the sheen on his lips. “Do you have a horse you’d like to bring over?”
Finally, she was able to look away for a moment. Somehow a lovely piece of lamb had shown up on her plate, along with the haricot verts, which only made her think of unspeakable things.
Horse. Yes. He wanted to know about her horse.
“Lucy,” she said with a nod. “Yes, it would be lovely to have her here.”
He was smiling now. “Lucy?”
She finally was able to grin. “My little sister named her. Said she looked like a Lucy, although I’m not quite sure how a bay Arabian mare translates to Lucy.”
“Probably an easier name for her to remember. Anything else of great import?”
She couldn’t be anything but honest. “Not that I can think of right now. Will you be able to trust me to make the best decisions while you’re gone?”
This time his smile was gentle. “I would not have married you and trusted you with our girls if I didn’t, Georgianne.”
