“Georgie,” she instinctively retorted. “The only time I’ve been called Georgianne is when I’m in trouble.”
He nodded. “I’ve already sent the notice to my banker so he knows you are to draw on my account. All bills are to be sent to him. I’ll give you all the pertinent information when we go back home tomorrow. Both the lawyer and estate agent will stop by as well so you may meet them. Will that suffice?”
For a moment she was swamped with a feeling of panic. Was she really ready for this? Certainly she took on much of the responsibility of running her own house, but this was different. There she had the support of well-loved staff, who watched out for her and filled in when she couldn’t manage everything. Could she truly walk into an established household that was going through its own upheaval and not fall flat on her face?
She didn’t have a choice, did she?
Doors were closing in again, even as they opened, and she fought that feeling of suffocation.
But then he reached across the table and took her hand. Just that. And he smiled, that wonderful warm smile that lit his eyes and offered his complete support.
“We have time, Georgie. Whatever doesn’t happen now, we can manage when I get back. And that is when we can focus on you. All right?”
She battled the sting of tears. He was such a good man. He was trying.
She nodded and squeezed his hand back. And knowing that they had a meal to finish, turned back to what Georgie was certain was a delicious dinner.
Georgie decidedshe was very proud of herself. She made it all the way through dinner without decorating her dress in the food she might have dropped from distraction. She even managed to thank the staff for a lovely dinner, leaving them smiling. Leaving her blushing, as she strongly suspected that they considered themselves responsible for the coming evening. She even let Grey lead her away from the table, her hand on his arm and his other hand covering it.
“Why do I suspect that if we do not go immediately upstairs, we will severely disappoint the Wrens?” Grey whispered as he led her from the room.
Georgie was able to smile. “It is difficult enough to be responsible for my own success. I am not so comfortable being responsible for theirs.”
He leaned closer so that she could catch the wind-and-sea scent of him. “What about mine?”
She almost tripped. “I imagine you’ll let me know.”
That made him laugh. “I believe we will do very well, Georgie.” That statement would not have been so evocative if he hadn’t been stroking her hand as he said it, if he hadn’t matched his pace to hers as they neared the stairs.
Georgie couldn’t help herself. She grinned up at him. “I’ll let you know.”
She was coming to count on that soft rumble of laughter in his chest. She found herself wanting to lay her hand against it, just to feel the vibrations, to lay her head against it to better hear it. To hear it and his heart, which she realized was accelerating again.
“I believe, lady wife,” he murmured, guiding her up the stairs, “that we might save the arbor for another day. I have an overwhelming hankering for acting like I’m at Gunter’s. The staff might not understand.”
She wasn’t sure she did. It didn’t matter. His words set off a firestorm inside. The growl of his voice settled low in her belly where those new sensations had been plaguing her. She was so tempted to ask him what they were. He already knew she was inexperienced. Surely he would understand her trepidation.
In the end, she couldn’t. She simply nodded and climbed the stairs toward the small bedrooms they had been allotted.
“You might want to send your maid to dinner herself,” he said. “Braxton will surely keep her company.”
Well, there went her breath again. Too clearly she could see what that would mean. “You sent him away?”
“I have long since learned to disrobe all alone. Besides—” He leaned closer again, spilling chills down her neck. “I suspect we can manage quite well without them.”
And all Georgie could do was nod again. More than her palms were suddenly damp. Her breathing had gone a bit short. And Grey kept stroking her hand, back and forth, back and forth, sending shivers racing up her arm and beyond, even making her breasts pucker.
She came so close to asking if they couldn’t postpone the next few moments. So close. But then they reached the door to Grey’s room, and he turned to her.
And he smiled. And that smile took the rest of the stuffings out of her knees.
“Don’t tell me you are nervous,” he said, that smile melting more than her knees.
It seemed pointless to lie. “Dreadfully.”
He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Then we’ll have to do something about that. Since you’ll be letting your woman go for dinner, don’t you think we can help each other from now on?”
What exactly was she supposed to say? “Can I help you first?”
