She took a bite.Chef Henri’s masterpiece crumpled on her tongue like sawdust.Thick suffocating silence choked her.She heard only the voice of Nossis of Locri singing in her head.
Nothing is sweeter than desire.
All other pleasure is second to it.
Even honey I spit from my mouth.
The one whom Aphrodite hasn’t loved,
So says Nossis,
Cannot know what sort of roses my flowers are.
No comfort there.She put down the tiny silver fork, stared out the window, and waited for darkness.Then at least she could sleep.
Hours passed.Servants moved on quiet feet, cleared her tray, and brought endless tea.They helped her dress for bed and then they left her alone.
The despond that replaced her anger gave way, in turn, to doubt in the still hours of night.His Grace was a generous donor to Trinity and perhaps others of the colleges.She feared that her behavior might have put Andrew in jeopardy.In Cambridge, as everywhere in England, her father’s influence loomed.He could make it uncomfortable for Andrew.
She knew that Andrew didn’t fear the whispers of her servants.She hoped that he didn’t fear the opinions of his neighbors.She suspected he thought his behavior was noble.He was puffed up with honor and some misguided notion of protectiveness.
Botheration but that man is stubborn!When will he ever let me decide for myself.The thought echoed in her mind.
Georgiana snuggled deeper into the luxurious coverings of her lonely bed.Moonlight filtered through her broad windows, casting shadows through her intricate lace hangings.It brought with it the voice of Nossis.
“‘The ones Aphrodite has loved,’” she sighed.That most certainly does notinclude me, more is the pity.She wondered if she should feel guilty for associating herself with a pagan goddess.She didn’t.
Georgiana attempted prayer, not knowing what else to do, but God felt far away, as far away as Andrew.She couldn’t believe that it was truly her fate to be alone her entire life with no one to talk with, laugh with, or work with.
“If You intended eros only for marriage as the clergy preach, didn’t You allow something for a freak like me, someone no one—at least no one acceptable—would want, ever?Someone with no hope of marriage at all?”
She waited for an answer.None came.Georgiana sat up.
Can God, who is in his very nature love, be so unfair?Does He mean for me to lead a loveless existence?No answer broke the silence.
She padded to the window on bare feet.The full moon, viewed from her window seat, lit the Cambridgeshire countryside with pale blue light.The world had passed deep into December.It would be cold, but bright enough to walk outside safely.She could be to Andrew in an hour, get her kiss, and be back long before the servants woke.
She had endured thirty-five years without affection, but now she knew better.She refused to go back to her half-life.
She arrived in Cambridge even sooner than she expected to.Less than an hour from the time she hastily dressed and pulled on her half boots, she turned into Little Saint Mary’s Lane.Clear of the river and in the gloom of the lane too narrow to be illuminated by moonlight, the exhilaration she felt faded and her courage began to fail.She didn’t know if she’d be able to find his door in the dark.
Steady, Georgiana.You’ve come too far to turn back now.
It wasn’t yet midnight.She was sure of it.There were six hours before sunrise–five before the kitchen staff arose–in which to get home and slip back into her room.She had time but none to waste.Her hand slid along the rough bricks of the row houses while her eyes examined the dark façade and she estimated the distance to his door.
Several moments passed in agony before she noticed a light just where she thought his windows must be.It flickered from the upper story behind diamond panes.His study–she was sure of it.
He can’t sleep either.Serves him right.
The thought gave her courage to knock at the door.No response came.She reached over to pick up a handful of pebbles, but the door opened before she could toss them at his window.
Harley, disgruntled and disheveled, looked her up and down irreverently.He gave the street an irritable glance as if to look for her servants and turned a thunderous expression to face her again.
“He’s up.Honest man can’t get a good night’s sleep around here.”
Harley shut the door behind her and disappeared into the kitchen.She stood alone at the foot of the stairs in the darkened house.She guessed Harley had gone back to bed as no light appeared in the kitchen.
She removed her half boots and cloak and began to climb the stairs in her stocking feet.Giggles bubbled up at the oddity of it, and a nervous twitch bedeviled her belly.She ignored both.
