“Then, when the doctor arrives in the morning, he will certainly reiterate the same to me,” he replied, raising her fingers to his lips.
“Even the bump has almost gone,” she bemoaned.
“I would not forgive myself if I allowed you to fall to harm by hastening your recovery.”
“What harm could I come to here? Westvale is home.”
Keaton paused. “Truly?” he eventually asked. “I did not think you saw it so.”
“That is because I did notalwayssee it so. I thought, when I arrived, that it would be a temporary resting place. But I am glad that it is not. Are you?”
Keaton frowned for a moment, then nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. I did not seek a wife. In fact, I had resigned myself to living alone. I could not see how I could share my life with anyone. It required too much trust, something I have always been short of. But then you thrust yourself into my life.”
He smiled to soften his words and show Georgia his emotions. She shifted on the bed, bringing herself closer to him. Keaton rose and sat on the edge of the bed, putting an arm around Georgia’s slender body.
“You did not seek a wife, but you found one anyway. And that doesn’t chafe?”
“Are you seeking reassurance?”
“Yes! Is it not obvious?” Georgia laughed.
Keaton grinned, savoring the feel of her body beneath his hand. He stroked her shoulder and then her back.
“I would very much like you to model for me soon. I would like to create a statue of you.”
“I am honored,” she said, giggling, “no one has ever expressed such a desire to me before.”
“Then all other men are fools and more blind than I am. There are artists who would give everything for a model such as you. For such beauty and perfection.” Keaton rasped, heatedly.
He knew his passion was coming through, but he let it. Georgia sought reassurance, and showing her this side of himself was the best way to give her it. To show her the man behind the Duke.
“Can you feel the heat of my face?” she asked softly.
Keaton put the back of his hand to her cheek. He smiled.
“Do I embarrass you?” he asked.
“Deeply,” Georgia replied, playfully, “but as it is only the two of us to witness it, I shall allow it.”
“You should not be, even in jest. You should be aware of your beauty, of how others see you. If I can see it, then others surely can.”
“I do not care about others.”
“Good.”
“Your jealousy is all the reassurance I need,” Georgia breathed in a soft purr. “My eyes are closed.”
“Why?”
“So that I can experience your body the way you experience mine.”
She reached up to run her hands over his face and then down his chest. Keaton was in his shirtsleeves and breeches. Georgia tangled her fingers in the laces of his shirt. Her blind fingers were tracing the outline of his nipples beneath his shirt. He breathed in, shivering, and she chuckled, her touch dancing down his flanks, caressing his ribs, and then his stomach.
“Amelia asked me if I trusted you. I could not answer her. I could say that I lived in hope.”
Keaton felt her words cut at him. He knew that he’d had no right to demand Georgia’s trust when he had been so slow to give his own. But, it still caused him pain to know that she had been unsure of him, had perhaps lived in fear and uncertainty.
“I was a fool,” he muttered.
