The Duke's Refuge

by Lorri Dudley

“Hand me that net.”

  Max passed it to her, and she waded out farther into the shallows. The colder water rushed over her feet and ankles, reviving her hot skin and drawing the coolness up her body like tree roots moistening its leaves. She crumbled bread pieces all around her and leaned over for a better look.

  “When are you going to show me the trick?” he asked.

  She stayed his questions with a hand. “Wait a second.”

  He let out a long sigh as she stared into the water, net in hand. The small waves drifted the bread pieces away. Maybe this was a bad idea. She’d only caught bait in a still lake.

  But just as she was about to give up, they came out of hiding. Small brown spotted minnows swam up and poked at the pieces of bread. They nibbled at the bits and, on occasion, nipped her toes. With one sweep, she dredged the net across the water and trapped eight minnows. She held up her wiggling prizes and smiled. “See. Bait.”

  “Wow.” Max exclaimed as she waded back. He pulled down on the net and peered in. “Now we can do some real fishing.”

  They picked up their things and walked to an outcropping of rocks that jutted into the ocean to form the edge of the lagoon. White, foamy waves curled over the boulders, while others pounded with fists, sending angry sprays of white water hurtling skyward.

  Georgia and Max perched on a smooth, black boulder with their backs to the rough surf. After casting their lines, they sat and waited. It wasn’t long before the first fish yanked on Max’s line. Georgia straightened. The same thrill she’d experienced fishing as a child now filled her chest.

  “You’ve got one.” She pointed at the water.

  Max pulled back slowly, reeling it in. The fish tugged on the line, yanking him forward a step. Georgia grabbed his shoulders to keep him from pitching into the ocean. Max screwed up his face with determination and pulled harder. A fin splashed out of the water.

  “Here it comes. You’ve almost got it, Max.”

  He cranked the wooden handle. His small hand jerked back every half turn. A beautiful fish breached the surface, its scales glistening in the sunlight.

  She let out a low whistle. A bluefish as long as her arm dangled from the line. It had to be at least the same size as ol’ Willy. “It’s a beauty. Probably a ten pounder.”

  Max puffed out his chest and beamed at Georgia. As he unhooked the fish, Georgia filled the bucket with salt water. She then wrapped the fish in a burlap bag and dropped it in the bucket.

  The rush of the catch swirled within her, probably almost as strong as Max felt. He once again readied his hook, and she saw herself as a girl, intent on hooking a whopper. A new fondness for the boy warmed her heart. They were very different people. Max was a young lad growing up on an island, and she was a grown woman who’d lived her entire life on the outskirts of London, yet they shared a common bond.

  The vast ocean stretched out before them as they settled back down on the rock. Max hunched his shoulders, but his grip remained tight on the rod.

  “This is lovely.” Georgia tilted her face up to the sun. “I’m enjoying myself more than I thought I would.” She issued him a side glance. “It must be the delightful company.”

  Max snorted out a giggle. “You’re all right, too, Miss Georgia.” He shrugged. “You know, for a girl.”

  She smiled, and a relaxed silence fell between them.

  “You haven’t had any more nightmares recently have you?” she asked.

  “Nah, only the night of the storm.”

  “Do you miss her?” Georgia wiggled for a better position on the hard rock. “Your mama, I mean.”

  A loud whoosh of air passed through Max’s lips. “I don’t remember her. I know her face from the miniature portrait in my room. When I think of her, I get a nice warm feeling right here.” He pointed at his midsection. “I guess I miss her, but it’s different.” He frowned. “My heart sort of hurts when I see other kids with their mamas getting hugs and kisses.”

  The tug on Georgia’s heart almost caused her to miss the tug on her line. She reeled it in, and their attention temporarily diverted to the fish. It was too small, so she threw the sun fish back.

  Max settled back on the rock. “Papa says there was a big hole in his heart from when he lost Mama, but God came into the hole and filled it with himself.” His eyes met hers. “God filled my hole too. I asked Him to come into my heart.”

  A hole had opened in her own heart when her father left. It ached…oh, how it ached. Nellie, their beloved housekeeper, had held her whenever the tears came. In those moments of weakness, Nellie would whisper in her ear that she was loved and precious. She wanted to believe the words, but an echo in her mind always questioned, if he loved you, why did he leave?

  Eventually, she relocated to London for her debut and left Nellie behind at their country house. She’d tried to fill the ache by reinventing herself into the perfect woman, the kind her mama expected her to be, but the pain persisted, even now.

  Perhaps she should have brought Nellie along to London. She’d rejected the kind woman’s comfort and instead stewed in her bitterness. Had she done the same with God? Did she push Him away too, when He could have helped fill her emptiness?

  “I’m going to see Mama in heaven and spend all eternity with her.” He peered up at Georgia with raised eyebrows. “That’s a long, long time, you know. She’ll have enough time to catch up on all the missed hugs and kisses then.”

  The urge to wrap her arms around the boy almost suffocated her. He’d probably think a hug from a girl was yucky and push her away, so instead, she tightened her grip on the pole.

  The two of them fished for several more hours, stopping only to enjoy their picnic. All in all, they reeled in a couple of yellowtail snapper, one small grouper, and an even bigger bluefish. She guessed the second one to be about sixteen pounds.

  They headed back to the house, weaving their way back up the path. Each had one hand on the handle of the overloaded bucket, and they often paused to catch their breath. Halfway there, the handle tugged against her fingers, and Georgia glanced back at Max, who had stopped.

  He stared into the field. “Shhh.” He waved her over with his hand and whispered, “Come closer and be quiet.”

  She put down the bucket and tiptoed behind him.

  “Look there.” He pointed to the seagrass. “It’s a land pike.”

  Georgia followed his finger to the thing as it writhed back into the shadows. Its tiny lizard legs flipped a long wide tail behind it. She let out a half-stifled scream and jumped away from the creature. Max slapped his knee and laughed, so wild and free that Georgia had to force back her own mirth.

  “You should see your face.” He pointed and burst into another fit. “You’re so scared of them.”

  She feigned an annoyed look, then picked up her side of the handle. “Come on. We need to get these back so Hattie can fry them up for dinner.”

  Max smothered his giggles, picked up the other side, and they started back home.

  Hattie stood in the yard hanging the freshly washed sheets out to dry. She spied them and waved.

  Max and Georgia picked up their pace, spilling water over the sides of the bucket. They were both out of breath when they reached the house.

  “Hattie, Hattie,” Max cried. “We caught supper.”

  Hattie peered into the bucket. “Ooooh, dat you did, child, dat you did. We be having filet of fish tonight.”

  Georgia met Hattie’s eyes. “How’s Papa? Any change?”

  “He’s much better. Dis one passed by real quick. Praise God. He’s weak but up and eatin’ broth in the kitchen.”

  “Is Papa here yet?” Max asked.

  Hattie beamed a broad white smile and ruffled the child’s hair.

  “He be dat. He be in da kitchen, sit’n with Mista Fred.”

  Max pulled on the bucket. “Come on, Miss Georgia. Let’s show ‘em our whoppers.”

  Despite the warm weather, Papa sat wrapped in a thick dressing robe, sipping on a s
poonful of soup near the hearth. He looked up at them as they entered. Dark smudges underlined his eyes, and his hand shook as he lowered the spoon. He appeared frail and worn out, but his face lit up as they approached. “What have we here?”

  Max released his end of the bucket, and Georgia maneuvered so that the water didn’t slosh over the sides.

  “Uncle Fred, you wouldn’t believe it, but I caught a snapper and a bluefish this big.” He held his hands out wide, noticeably further than the actual size of the fish she remembered him catching, but she didn’t correct him.

  In his excitement, Max’s words ran over each other, and he barely stopped to take a breath. “Georgia caught an even bigger bluefish and a grouper, but he was small, so we threw him back. She taught me a new trick on how to lure in a lot of bait all at once. You stand in the water, float breadcrumbs all around, wait for the minnows to come”—he swooped his hand through the air—“then slam your net into the water. She’s not a bad fisherman.” He scrunched up his face. “Being a girl and all.”

  The men chuckled, and Georgia pursed her lips against a smile.

  Max continued. “We caught a total of six fish. Some of ‘em we threw back, but Hattie’s gonna cook up the rest for supper.”

  Harrison smiled and ruffled his son’s hair.

  “Well done, my boy.” Her father patted Max’s shoulder. “We’re celebrating this great catch.”

  Max held up each fish one by one and beamed with pride. Georgia, not wanting to intrude on their special moment, stood a few paces back as her father interacted with the boy. Jealousy licked at her, but she kept her smile steady. Max was a good kid and deserved the praise. Why then did her heart hurt? Irrational anger soured her stomach, and she turned toward the door, not wanting to spoil Max’s fun.

  “Georgia,” her father said. “This one reminds me of ol’ Willy.'”

  Georgia stopped and turned around.

  “I wish we’d caught that old beastie. He probably weighs three stones by now.”

  “I caught Willy.” She murmured down to her hands and picked invisible lint off her gown.

  “You what now?” Her father twisted in his chair to face her.

  Georgia shrugged and peeked up. “I caught Willy the day you left. I brought it in to show you, but you and Mama were fighting.”

  He stared at her, mouth agape, for a long moment. Finally, in a somber whisper, he said, “I didn’t know.”

  Georgia felt Harrison’s gaze on her. She blinked away the tears burning the backs of her eyes, but couldn’t look either him or papa in the eye. Not when she was so vulnerable—so exposed. “I tried to have Nellie throw him back, but he’d been out of the water too long. It was too late for Willy, too late to make things go back the way they were.”

  Sorrow and regret etched frown-lines on Papa’s face. A quietness settled over the room. Even Max stayed still. Only his eyes shifted between Georgia and Fredrick.

  Finally, her father broke the silence. “I didn’t want to leave. Your mama couldn’t forgive me, and I couldn’t stop loving her.”

  Harrison sat frozen in his chair, studying her.

  Georgia’s jaw tightened.

  Papa quickly added, “It’s not your mama’s fault either.” He shook his head. “We were both foolish. We should have tried harder. I loved your mother. There was never anyone else. I wish I could have gotten her to understand that. I still love her and probably always will.” He frowned down at his hands and let out a sigh. “I wish things had been different.”

  Georgia swallowed and nodded. “I know that now.” She cast a glance at Max and thought of him getting all those kisses and hugs in heaven from his mom. Time was precious. She didn’t want to lose another moment with her father.

  Her gaze pivoted to Harrison, who gave a gentle nod of encouragement. She sucked in a fortifying breath, walked over to her father, and looked him in the eyes. “I know you didn’t want to leave. It hurt to miss you so badly, so I blamed you. Please, forgive me.” Georgia put her warm hand over his cold one. “I love you.”

  Tears reddened his eyes, and his voice broke. “I love you too. I always have. You’ll always be my princess.”

  He placed his other hand on top of hers, and she smiled at him through a haze of tears.

  “Let’s celebrate.” Papa grinned. “Max, go tell Hattie to fix us the greatest meal ever. We’re celebrating your fish and Georgia catching ol’ Willy.”

  Chapter 13

  …Viscount Ashburnham has grown our concerns for the welfare of our grandson, Maxwell. My wife and I request a summons for his return to England so we may ensure his good health with our own eyes.

  —From Lord and Lady Chadwick to the Prince Regent, George IV

  Laughter sounded throughout the Lennox cottage as they enjoyed the feast Hattie created. Harrison lounged in his chair, enjoying the banter as Fredrick, Max, and Georgia swapped fishing stories—some about catches and others about taking unexpected swims.

  Georgia’s bright eyes drew him in as she proudly reenacted how Max had reeled in his biggest fish. Max giggled at her theatrics. A bond seemed to have grown between Georgia and his son. Not once did she accept any of the praise.

  Instead, this chit he’d deemed as self-absorbed turned all the attention upon Max and required none for herself. Maybe he misjudged her, but there was no doubt that jealousy had darkened her eyes whenever Fredrick had paid Max attention before. It seemed maybe something had changed today.

  Harrison sipped his drink. Georgia laughed at a comment Fredrick made to Max, and Harrison’s breath hitched. Her smile accentuated the unique sensual tilt to her eyes. His gaze drifted over her rosebud lips and the straight white teeth they showcased. But it was more than that. There was a natural ease to her, a comfortable grace in her laughter, when she allowed herself the pleasure of mirth. This was a side of Georgia he wanted to see more.

  Lady Pickering leaned toward Harrison. “Georgia is a beautiful woman, is she not?”

  Harrison cleared his throat and put his glass down. “Outer beauty isn’t everything.”

  “You are right.” Lady Pickering folded her hands neatly in front of her. “Georgia is beautiful naturally, but look at the life in her eyes. She’s absolutely stunning when she lets her guard down and reveals her true self.”

  Harrison acknowledged her with the barest of nods, unable to tear his eyes away as Georgia smiled at something Max did. Max repeated the motion, and she giggled. One slender hand shifted to hold her stomach. Her laughter flipped something in his gut, drawing him into a spell.

  “You are very fortunate, indeed,” Lady Pickering whispered. “Very few people get to see her this way.”

  The spell broke as he remembered the flirtatious way in which she’d enamored Rousseau. “Because she’s usually busy using her feminine charms to turn grown men into lapdogs?”

  The woman sighed and preened the ruffles on her sleeves. “I expected you to see past that.”

  Harrison straightened at the censorious tone of Lady Pickering’s voice, and he turned his full attention toward the birdlike woman.

  She drew herself up, shoulders back. “Georgia is misunderstood. She keeps up this pretense to protect a very soft heart.”

  Harrison’s brows drew together. “I find it hard to believe the woman who scorned my help after I pulled her out of the ocean, would have a softer side.”

  Lady Pickering stared him straight in the eye. “You’re correct, but it wasn’t always so.”

  Her expression was so serious that Harrison fought the urge to laugh.

  “Georgia has placed walls around her heart because so many people have wounded it.”

  “I know her father left her,” Harrison said, “but she has to understand that he believed it was for her own good.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t have to do any such thing. I love my brother, but he didn’t understand the damage his leaving would incur. If he had, he wouldn’t have left. He thought his disappearance would bring peac
e to the household. But it left a very vulnerable Georgia alone to defend herself against an overbearing mother and three spiteful sisters.”

  Harrison drew back at her vehemence.

  Her voice softened. “I don’t mean to speak ill of family, but Nora never understood a free-spirit like Georgia. The only way Nora knew how to keep her life from falling apart was to take control. If only she’d given things to God and let Him handle it.” She sighed. “But sometimes we have to learn things the hard way, don’t we?”

  “Indeed,” Harrison said, though her question was rhetorical.

  “Nora was a perfectionist who treated her first three girls like dolls, and each became little replicas of their mother. But, to her dismay, Georgia was a tomboy. She tried and tried to get Georgia to behave, but couldn’t. Then to make things worse, rumors began to spread about Fredrick and another woman. Georgia became a daily reminder of Nora’s ineptness. Nora’s world shattered, and in order to keep what little control she could still exert on her life, she handed Georgia to a nanny and focused her attention on her older girls. Fredrick saw the injustice done Georgia but, God bless him, hadn’t the slightest clue how to raise a girl.”

  Harrison’s gaze fell on Fredrick. Harrison, too, wouldn’t have the slightest clue how to raise a daughter, but he gave Fredrick credit for trying.

  “Fredrick lent his best efforts, and Georgia thought the sun and moon revolved around her papa. She became his shadow, trailing him as he ran the estate, joining him in fishing expeditions, and loading his gun when he hunted. He tried to make up for the lack of her mother’s attention, but in some ways, he made the situation worse. Georgia started emulating her father by dressing like a boy, which Nora interpreted as Fredrick lashing out at her for not producing a male heir.”

  “She certainly doesn’t dress like a boy now, so she must have reconciled with her mother.”

  “Not exactly. When Fredrick left, something snapped inside Georgia. I don’t know whether she changed out of spite for his leaving or in an attempt at self-preservation, but she suddenly started dressing like a girl.”