by Raine Miller
“Shhhhhhh. No harm done. He is gone and won’t hurt you again.” Jeremy dropped to his knees, gathering her up. “I am here, and you are always safe with me. Always.”
Georgina clung to him in a panic, trembling, burying her face in his chest, her hands gripping his jacket. She shook so hard the vibrations moved his body along with hers.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Jeremy rubbed her shoulders and upper arms and just held her, wishing there were something more he could do. Long minutes passed with her in his arms before she cried herself out and her trembling finally ceased. Pellton had clearly terrified her. Jeremy tensed again, remembering what he’d seen Pellton doing to her. The pig had been grappling her breasts with his hands and mouth. How dare he touch her! The idea of another man putting his hands on Georgina made him want blood for payment.
“What can I do for you?” he asked as gently as he could, hating that she was scared.
“You’ve already done it! You saved me and made him go. I don’t know what he would have done.” Georgina lifted tear-filled eyes to meet his. “I was so afraid—thank you a thousand times, Mr. Greymont. You are a remarkable man to do—”
“Let me get you home and I can go to your father and tell him about Pellton.” He cut her off and pulled her up to standing.
“No! You must not!” she begged, shaking her head and digging her heels in when he tried to lead her forward.
He whipped his head around to stare at her. “But your father must be informed of his low character and know of what he tried to do.”
She hung her head. “You will pay for it if you persist in this. Don’t you see? They’ll look to you.”
“Look to me for what?”
Georgina widened her eyes at him. “You don’t know?”
He didn’t answer but felt certain he did indeed know very well.
“They will look to you as a husband for me. I cannot believe that Tom didn’t say anything about it. I am sorry, Mr. Greymont, it is not of my doing.”
She composed herself and looked him square in the eye. “My father wants me married and gone. He doesn’t much care to whom, obviously. He will be angry that Lord Pellton has left us.” She put her hand on his arm. “But you can get away if you leave now. You should go, Mr. Greymont. Just take your leave, and get as far away from this cursed place as you can. No one will ever know about today. I won’t say a word to anybody.”
Jeremy held her gaze throughout her speech, even surer of what he must do. He looked down to where her hand rested on his arm, and then slowly up to her face, still tear streaked and red. Portions of hair had come undone from the loose knot she wore and trailed wildly in the soft breeze. He wanted her back in his arms, those soft curves tight up against him. Everything became so crystal clear all in an instant. He wanted her. Such a simple truth in the emotion, he thought. Wanting a person. For him, that person was Georgina, and no other would do.
“I still need to talk to you, but I realize you are upset and this is not the best moment. I’ll leave you with this. Would you like it if I were a candidate for your hand?”
“Are you?” she whispered, her eyes rounding in surprise.
“Do you want me to be?” he whispered right back.
“Mr. Greymont, regardless of what I would like, you don’t want to be a candidate, trust me.”
Yes I do. Determination fueled him. “I am calling in the favor you promised me the day I arrived. Tonight. You must meet me in the library at midnight. I’ll be waiting for you.”
She started to shake her head.
Taking both of her hands in his, he worded his request carefully, but firmly. “It is important. Come to me, Georgina. My intentions are nothing but honorable. You have naught to fear from me, I give you my word. I only wish to talk to you.”
He brought both of her hands up, observing the fine bones of her fingers, before kissing each palm right at the center. Then he entreated with his eyes, locking onto hers.
“As you wish.” She dipped her head elegantly, turned, and walked away, leaving him under the sheltering leaves of the ancient oak.
He stood frozen, powerless to move, only able to watch over Georgina until she found her way safely inside the house.
Jeremy was positively savaged with worry for her. Yes, he was fussing already. Might as well don a nanny’s apron and cap, he thought, wryly. The urge to hover and stay close by was difficult to curb. In fact, Jeremy had no intention of curbing the impulse. What he wanted to do was flay Pellton and snarl at anyone who looked at his Georgina in a way they shouldn’t. Then, he’d take her sweet, innocent form into his arms and kiss her senseless. Or until he was senseless. Hell, he was already senseless! Yes, she will be my Georgina.
Was he really going to do this?
Yes, you are.
Jeremy needed a whiskey right now, or three. He felt surprisingly steady in the nob, considering what he would be doing come midnight. Hellfire and damnation! Courtship is torture on a fellow, he thought.
Chapter Eight
His love was passion’s essence—as a tree
On fire by lightning, with eternal flame
Kindled he was, and blasted.
—Lord Byron, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage (1812)
Honesty was the only option open to her. Georgina knew she would have a difficult time denying Jeremy anything that he asked. She also knew she couldn’t betray him either. He was too worthy and good. She’d have to tell him the ugly truth before he asked her the question. And then he’d no longer want her. He’d be repulsed and embarrassed, and she hated do that to him, but couldn’t see any other way.
Life felt so very unfair at the moment. It had not turned out at all how she’d imagined when she was an innocent and still whole, and dreamed of the fairy tale. Dreamed of the brave knight who battled dragons and rushed in to sweep her to safety. Her life was no fairy tale. Although Lord Pellton could fill the role of a dragon, she thought wryly. No, the knight of her dreams married her and took her away to his castle where he loved her for the rest of their days.
Making her way to the library with a heavy heart, she could guess what the honorable Mr. Jeremy Greymont would be asking her, and she also knew what her answer must be.
Georgina quietly entered the library to find Jeremy pacing impatiently. He faced the clock as it closed in on midnight. The click of the door latch caught his attention, and he turned abruptly.
Her heart stuttered painfully as she drank him in. His sharp blue eyes fastened on to hers and softened. Still in his evening clothes, his hair was a little tousled, as if he’d been dragging a hand through it. Pieces of sandy brown skittered over his brow. His lips stood out smooth and full against the shadow of beard that surrounded them. They were the same lips that had kissed her forehead and her palms. What a beautiful man you are, Jeremy Greymont.
He kept still for a moment, his stare raking over her fast before coming to rest upon her face. She’d worn her hair down but tied together onto one side, and had covered up with a blue brocade dressing gown over a lacy nightdress.
She suspected he liked how she looked because he swallowed deeply before speaking. “Thank you for meeting me, Georgina. Please sit down?” He indicated a chair for her.
Seeing the swallowing and the admiration in his eyes, she felt even more regret for what she must tell him. She took the seat, lifting her eyes to him. “Mr. Greymont,” she whispered in greeting, wanting his admiration for her to go on, but knowing he wouldn’t feel it once she explained why she couldn’t accept his hand.
He cleared his throat. “You told me today that your father has imposed the requirement of marriage for you. I confess I did know of his intentions to see you wed. Your brother told me when I met him in London. And the idea intrigued me. I have admired you for years, but you were too young before, and I was not of a mind to settle down then. But now, my aspirations have changed.” His voice trailed off as his eyes swept over her again.
She looked up at him, stil
l standing, so tall and strong before her and thought he was the most handsome man she had ever known. And then she felt the pang hit her in accepting that she would probably never see him again after this night.
He sat down in the chair opposite to her. “I had to come to see you again and learn more about you. Being in your company has not been a disappointment. Rather, it has been quite the opposite. Georgina, I think you are perfect for me.” He reached out and gently clasped her hand. “My grandparents raised me, and my grandfather, Sir Rodney, will leave a baronetcy when he goes. He is getting on in age and wishes to see the line secured, impressing urgency for me to wed and get an heir for Hallborough Park, our estate in Somerset. So you see I also have the necessity of marriage on me.”
Georgina felt the urge to laugh at the absurdity of fate. Jeremy wanted to marry for the purpose of getting an heir just like Lord Pellton did. But he’s not like Lord Pellton. How could two men want the same and her reaction be so vast in difference? Easy answer, that. One man was good, and one was bad. Jeremy saw her as a person, while Pellton thought of her as something to use. Jeremy was kindness and comfort. Pellton was lecherous and frightening.
He gathered up her other hand so that now he held both of them in his. “If I could bring about such with you, it would not be a burden in any way. It would be a privilege. I would be honored to have you for my wife.” He straightened in his seat and swallowed. “Georgina, will you—”
“Jeremy,” she interrupted, “don’t.” She bowed her head. “Do not ask the question.” The regret in her voice sounded so pitiful, even to her own ears. She tugged her hands out of his clasp.
He resisted her withdrawal for just an instant before letting her hands go. “What is it?” he asked.
“I cannot marry you because I am not fit to be wife to any man,” she whispered, praying she could get through the rest of the explanation when he demanded it.
“Because of Pellton today? I don’t care about him, and I stopped him before he could…hurt you.” He stroked her cheek with a knuckle. “No one will ever hurt you again. I’ll protect—”
The door burst open, and both of them turned to see Mr. Russell stride into the room.
“What is the meaning of this? Greymont? What are you about young man—dallying with my daughter in the dark of night? It is bold of you!” Mr. Russell glared at Jeremy, but Georgina could detect the triumph in her father’s stare.
Jeremy jumped to his feet, bowing his head in deference to the older man. “Apologies, sir. Mr. Russell, I can assure you I have only the most honorable intentions toward Miss Russell.”
“It’s a good thing, Greymont, for you have compromised her and I’ll accept nothing less than an offer.”
“Of which I am fully prepared to put forward. I called Miss Russell here tonight to ask her the question directly. I would have gone to you next, sir.” Jeremy turned smiling eyes on her and held out his hand.
She felt tears well up, making her vision swim, shook her head, and devastated the man she wanted but could never have. It wasn’t in Georgina’s destiny to have him. Fate had stepped in and demanded payment.
“I cannot marry you, Mr. Greymont. It is impossible.”
“Why can’t you?” Jeremy asked, puzzled by her refusal, a frown slashing his brows.
God, her heart hurt. This must be the pain of it breaking. “I told you before, I am not fit—”
“Georgina! Hold your tongue, girl!” Mr. Russell shouted threateningly from the doorway.
“Papa! I won’t mislead him. I will not do it. Not to him.” She felt such anguish in this moment. It felt like she had left her body and looked down on herself as she spoke the horrible words that would kill her chance for a happy life.
“What is it? Why do you refuse me? Georgina?” Jeremy sounded different now. Doubt had crept in.
“I—I am not—”
“Goddamnit, girl, silence yourself!” Mr. Russell exploded, red-faced and shaking.
“No, Papa! I cannot. He deserves to know what he would be getting in a marriage with me!” She faced her father bravely, knowing she would pay later for this defiance.
Jeremy sounded truly worried now. “What would I be getting, Georgina?” He swallowed hard, his throat flexing.
She turned to him and took a deep breath. “I can barely look at you and say the words, so great is my shame. But you deserve better than me. Much better.”
“What would I be getting, Georgina?” He repeated the question, this time with the sharpness of daggers flying across the room.
She gulped a deep breath and said it quickly, before she lost her nerve. “You would be getting a ruined bride—who’s no longer chaste—and unable to—unable to bear the touch—to do her duty in marriage. I cannot do it. I am as I said before, not fit for you. I am ruined.”
She saw the sting flash in his eyes and a flinch as he comprehended her ghastly confession, and she had to cover her mouth. Georgina’s pain was naught compared to the ache of hurting him, but she could do nothing else. Her heart squeezed up tight, closing itself off.
The hysterical idea of flinging herself down to the floor and begging him to marry her anyway, despite her disclosure, flashed as a possibility. But that was simply a panic reaction. She could never do such a thing to Jeremy. He deserved someone who could be a true wife to him and give him the heirs he needed.
This hurt. So badly. The anguish terrified her in its intensity, but that must mean it was a worthy sacrifice—she was doing the correct thing. Yes. This was how it must be. Georgina would sacrifice her happiness to ensure his. Knowing the loss of Jeremy Greymont would be always be felt with great regret, but also knowing in her heart, that this night, she had done the right thing in letting him go.
Chapter Nine
When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years…
—Lord Byron, “When We Two Parted” (1816)
Jeremy felt the breath leave his body. It eked out of him slowly, letting him feel the loss at its most painful depths.
Georgina’s sorrow-filled eyes had glowed at him in the dim of the room, and he’d never forget how she’d looked. Like a princess. So soft and alluring in her nightclothes with her hair spilling down over one shoulder. A tragic, but exquisite princess in his eyes.
Right before she had said the words that broke his heart, he’d felt the coldness of dread seize that beating muscle which gave him life, felt it turn brittle, so that when he did hear those terrible words, it just splintered all apart in an instant. Like an icicle dropping onto a rock and shattering into oblivion, as if it had never been, at one time, whole and shimmering.
His chest ached. He felt sure there must be a blade still embedded there after slicing him open, slowly being turned to ensure a maximum degree of suffering. He knew the need to lash out at something.
Georgina fled the room first, a desperate attempt to hold on to her composure for dignity’s sake, her final words to him being, “I am so sorry, Jeremy. Forgive me.” And then she turned away. Turned from him and was gone.
Mr. Russell followed his daughter out, having the grace to look shamed for his duplicity as he departed.
The keening of the library door closing on its hinge screamed through the silence of the cold room. But even the chill of the room could not compare to the coldness in his heart right now.
Being so close to getting what he desired and having it snatched away was cruel.
I cannot marry her. She will never be mine. I’ll never hold her in my arms or sleep with her or be inside her. I’ll not touch her body or kiss her or make any babies with her.
His body gulped in some breath, and he dropped to a chair, his legs unwilling to hold him up. Jeremy couldn’t believe it. Georgina was supposed to be the girl for a libertine rip like him. He’d found her amid the bleak matrimonial landscape he thought never to make much sense of, let alone have to wade through. She was good and beautiful a
nd gentle, but not weak. She’d have tamed him, made him decent, an upstanding citizen, worthy of respect. She’d been his miracle. Perfect.
No. He gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. His image of her had been perfect, not her. Georgina was flawed just like everyone else. Now he knew why the girl he remembered from long ago was so changed.
Not chaste.
Why had she said she could not bear his touch?
Ruined.
Well, someone had touched her well and good. Who in the goddamn hell had she fucked? And why? Her lover hadn’t offered marriage? Maybe he was already married, this man who’d had her. Or below her station. Jeremy thought he might be sick. Right here on the Turkish carpeted floor, amid the leather tomes of Oakfield’s elegant library.
What in the hell will I do now?
He had been so sure of everything. Sure he would have her. Sure she would have him.
The pain cut too deep, rendering him incapacitated for coherent thoughts, so he just keep repeating the same truths over and over in his head, willing his mind to accept what his heart could not.
Jeremy packed his things quickly, determined to go at first light. Myers could head out in the coach behind him. He was going to London anyway. He had to get away from here before he did something stupid, like go up to Georgina’s room and seduce her. Oblige her to accept his touch and see if she still felt like refusing his offer. He could go up to her room right now and cause a commotion. They’d be found in her bedroom together, and that would be all society required. He wouldn’t even have to fuck her. He’d sure like to though. Maybe it would tamp down all this ragged anxiety he’d been holding in.
He could make Georgina marry him. He could force it right now. Her father didn’t seem to mind much about the quality of the candidate as long as the bastard offered marriage.
Jeremy crashed down on the bed, feeling like a five-year-old and fitting because his best toy had been snatched away by a playmate. No, he wouldn’t go to her room. That would be supremely stupid.