Her lips quirked up. “Aren’t most men chivalrous and chaste?”
I buried my humor, but it was almost painful. I’d never met a woman with a mind quite like Georgiana’s. “Yes, and we’re honest too,” I parried back.
She grinned.
I waited until her gaze locked with mine. “Forgive me?”
She chewed on her bottom lip, her hand slowing on Cleo’s back, trailing down to her tail. “Of course. You seemed out of sorts.”
I lifted my hand to the space between Cleo’s ears and rubbed. Scaring Georgiana off was the last thing I wanted to do. I needed to move extremely slowly, so I said, “I fear I am making a mess of things.”
Our hands were so close, brushing through Cleo’s fur in tandem.
I hadn’t admitted that fear aloud to anyone. Certainly not to the one person I most feared judgment from. “My father always had everything in hand. He was focused and steady. But he isn’t here. I cannot ask his advice, nor seek his guidance.”
“What do you think he would tell you?” She glanced at me, then back down to Cleo.
I puffed up my cheeks and blew out a breath.Remembering Father brought back all the good and the bad and the sorrowful. I had learned over the years to bury it all down deep to keep my head above water.
Tonight, with Georgiana sitting on the floor beside me, I let myself feel it all. I thought back to stories he used to tell about how he’d chosen my mother.
“My father met my mother through their parents. Their courtship was quick but easy. My mother was the daughter of an earl. Her family was extraordinarily wealthy, and my father needed the money. It was a very good match. And with a little effort, it worked out well for them over time.”
My neck burned, and I did not know why. My parents’ arrangement was not special. The embarrassing part was how desperately I’d tried to force a similar arrangement for myself. And how terribly and openly I’d failed.
“I thought I had that with Miss Newbury. A beneficial match. So, this second time round, I lined every necessity out from the beginning. I’ve been more particular. I did not want to fail again. I want the dukedom to—” I stopped myself. I’d said it a hundred times:I want the dukedom to be strong. Only I wasn’t sure what that meant anymore. I had started to change my mind over where truestrengthcame from.
Still, she didn’t say anything for a long while. She abandoned Cleo’s back, grazing her tail instead. Thinking. Perhaps I’d said too much, been too open. But I wanted to explain my reasoning. To help her see why I acted the way I had when we’d first met. Why I’d been so blasted determined. And why, now, I wanted to change course.
She shifted from her knees to lean against the leg of the chair. Her gaze washed over me.
“My father married my mother because he was infatuated with her. Over time, my mother missed London living. She wanted to travel. Live abroad. But my father loved the countryside. They fought so often, I can hardly picture them otherwise. When he died, my mother fought with my brother instead, and he pushed her away. And now I rarely see her.” She swallowed hard and our eyes locked. “No one can say what the future might bring. But at least with Lady Diana you’d have more than what you started with.”
I had a feeling that was exactly what Father would say. I hated it all the same. “I did not know that about your mother. That she left.”
Georgiana smiled softly. “Peter and I are very close. He’s the only other person in the world who truly understands what my childhood was like.”
And he never left her. My estimation of the man grew. “It seems to me that your mother was never very honest. With your father or with herself.”
She nodded. “My brother would say she is a very good pretender. Sometimes I wonder if I am more like her than I care to admit. But mentioning my mother sends him into a rage, so we try not to talk about her.”
I tried to imagine Wood angrier than I’d already seen him over Georgiana’s welfare. “You know, I think your brother and I got off on the wrong foot. I do believe we’d get along smashingly.”
She laughed, and I felt the bright sound pang in my chest. Cleo raised her head, and Georgiana and I leaned forward to stroke her back at the same time. Our fingers caught, and she blushed the prettiest pink.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
We’d moved so close our knees were nearly touching. Cleo settled.
With no one to coax it, the fire dwindled low, darkening the room. I ought to be responsible. I ought to send us both to bed.
Instead, my mind flashed back to Georgiana, breathless from fencing. How strong she’d been. How it had felt to cross foils, to hold her attention. I could have sworn her eyes had wandered ... that perhaps, she’d welcome my affections. I had wanted to kiss her.
I wanted to kiss her now.
She caught my gaze, and her lips parted like she could read my mind. Like she, too, remembered that moment.
“It’s late,” she breathed. “You should take Cleo to bed.”
