“A list which Georgia and I drew up of things that she wished to experience before the freedom of being a Duchess is snatched away from her,” Hermione answered.
“Snatched away? By whom?” Amelia asked, innocently.
“Why, by the Duke and your parents, of course,” Hermione furrowed her brows.
“Really?”
The three of them were in Georgia’s drawing room, enjoying tea and sandwiches. Hermione had brought a package wrapped in paper and tied with a bow. She had deposited it on the sideboard without explanation when she had arrived. It still had not been explained.
“Hermione, of course, refers to the fact that my marriage to the Duke was created artificially, to stave off scandal after what happened at Almack’s,” Georgia clarified with a warning look to Hermione.
“The child must know the true nature of your arranged marriage,” her friend shook her head.
“I did not know,” Amelia said, blushing, “I thought that the two of you had met in less than ideal circumstances, but having met, had fallen in love…”
Hermione snorted. “Ah, the innocence of youth.”
“Yes, well, I am not so naive as all that now,” Amelia said, somewhat defensively.
“I will fetch the list, shall I?” Georgia offered, wanting to change the subject, at least until she and Amelia were alone.
Her cousin had not yet opened up about the circumstances that had brought her to the house in Bethnal Green. Nor was it clear if she would remain another night at Westvale.
Or if Keaton would be happy to extend that hospitality. I think he would, but he is so changeable!
Georgia went to her bureau and took out the list. She cleared her throat, feeling herself blush immediately.
“I have consumed more champagne than was advisable in public. That one can be crossed off the list.”
Amelia gasped but looked admiringly at Georgia’s daring. Hermione clapped.
“I have… kissed someone because I wanted to. Simply because I wanted to…” Georgia continued.
“Who?” Amelia gasped again, looking scandalized.
“If you say your husband, that does not count,” Hermione cut in.
“Of course it counts. He is my husband of convenience after all, so kissing him simply because I want to is not the sameas kissing him because he is my husband and it is expected,” Georgia countered.
“Thepurposeof that item, as you well know,” Hermione began, “is that you experience the freedom of kissing a man simply because you feel the impulse. Not because you are his wife, and it is expected of you.”
“I thought the purpose of that item was that I experience the freedom of kissing a man when I want to and because I want to. I have fulfilled that requirement. It is crossed off,” Georgia finished stubbornly.
Hermione threw up her hands in defeat.
“What else have you done, Georgie?” Amelia asked with wide eyes.
“Nothing else, so far,” Georgia hummed.
“Then I will facilitate the very first item we added to the list,” Hermione said, rising and going to the sideboard.
Georgia felt a tightness in her throat as her friend began to unwrap the paper-wrapped bundle. The very first item was Hermione’s, and Georgia had been in two minds about it from the beginning. Hermione held up a dress that had been wrapped up in the bundle.
“I brought it so that you could try it on. I have also brought a modiste’s measuring tape so that I can record what areas need to be adjusted. When is your next social function?”
Georgia stared at the dress, open-mouthed. Amelia gaped, then laughed. Then gaped again. It was extremely low-cut. Georgia thought that the upper half of her breasts would be on display, almost to the nipple. It also looked to be of an exceptionally thin material.
“It looks like a nightgown!” Georgia exclaimed.
