by Lorri Dudley
What if the Prince Regent made good on his threat? What if he returned to England only to discover he’d been stripped of his title?
What if all he could offer Georgia was to be the wife of an island schoolmaster? She deserved better.
After Laura’s death, Harrison had viewed his title as a nuisance. He’d mocked the label by living the last five years without it.
But now that he needed it, he wasn’t certain if he possessed it any longer. If he returned to London straightaway, maybe there would still be time. Hopefully, his last letter hadn’t been lost at sea. He prayed it had reached the Prince Regent’s hands.
Because only a duke’s influence could convince His Majesty to put a stop to Rousseau’s cruelty. Only a duke could make the progressive suggestion to parliament that the abolition of slavery would be the way of the future. And only a duke deserved to marry a woman like Georgia Lennox.
Chapter 25
…I’m delighted by your returning to London. I notified the servants to prepare your city lodgings. I shall leave for London immediately to care for Maxwell upon your arrival while you meet with the Prince Regent.
—From Lady Charlotte Weld, Duchess of Linton, to her son, Robert Harrison Weld, Duke of Linton.
Four days later, Georgia sat on a stool in the library next to Papa. He was tucked in the sofa as she spoon-fed water into his mouth. With each motion, she recited the same prayer over and over. Lord, please give me more time with him. I’ve lost so many precious opportunities, and I have so much to make up for.
This episode was so much worse than the last. Georgia, Aunt Tessa, and Hattie all took turns watching over him. He burned with fever to the point they needed to change his soaked bed clothes every hour. She wrung out a cloth over a small metal bowl and laid it on his forehead.
Harrison had come by at least once a day, but every time she’d been either asleep, having been up all night with her father, or too mentally worn to face the heartache of Harrison’s leaving.
Today, he’d come to say a final goodbye, but in an uncharacteristic moment of cowardice, she’d hid in her dressing room. Her emotions were too high, like a pot of tea ready to whistle. If she laid eyes on him, she would break down. She’d beg him to stay, though she had no right. Instead, she selfishly sequestered her heart among her colorful gowns and pretended she could be happy again. Deep down she knew, she’d allowed herself to become vulnerable for the first time since her father left, she’d loved with all her heart, and now her heart would be broken.
“Miss Georgia?” Hattie entered the room, holding out a card with a letter attached. “This arrived for you this mornin.’”
She accepted the letter and flipped the card over. She recognized the slanted script before she read the words. Lord Julien Greenhill, the Earl of Claremont. Her brows drew together. The letter didn’t look as if it had sailed across the ocean. Was Julien here in Nevis? She broke open the wax seal and unfolded the letter.
Dearest Georgia,
Even on the other side of the Atlantic, you have not been far from my thoughts each day. Mother’s health has been lacking, so when she decided it would be good for her bones to try the famous healing springs on Nevis, I jumped at the chance to come and see you. I hope we can continue to further our acquaintance, perhaps allow it to become something more. We are residing at the Artesian Hotel and wish to call upon you this afternoon.
* * *
Truly Yours,
Julien
* * *
P.S. As of our leaving, my affairs have been put in order. Mother has seen to it.
Her hands dropped into her lap, clutching the letter tight, as she stared across the room at the wall.
Julien was here, in Nevis?
He’d thought about her every day, and he wanted to further their acquaintance?
It didn’t make sense. Eleanor said she’d seen Cynthia in Julien’s arms. Would her sister lie to her? No. She might tease and belittle, but she never lied. Could Eleanor have misunderstood? That could have been it. Eleanor believed they were in a lover’s embrace, but Julien, ever the gentleman, could have been aiding Cynthia. Maybe her hair had gotten tangled in a button, or she’d needed a spot on her neck inspected—closely.
Georgia shook her head. Even she couldn’t fool herself with that one.
Did it matter? Julien had come for her and he planned to propose. She knew for certain that was what he alluded to by writing that his affairs were in order, but was that what she wanted? To marry an earl? Her mother would be pleased. Her sisters would be jealous. But how did Georgia feel? A month ago, she would have jumped for joy, but so much had changed.
She had changed.
The image of Harrison’s teasing smile as he’d held her at the ball flashed through her mind.
I hate to point it out, but you, my dear, are wearing red.
She’d teased back that it was dark pink, and his expression had sobered. His eyes had darkened with what she now understood was passion.
You look ravishing in dark pink.
The dull ache that had tortured her heart for four days intensified. She closed her eyes. Harrison, at this moment, was boarding the Essex to sail back to London. She swallowed a sob. The pain was too great, but she knew not to hope that he might change his mind and stay.
“Could you help me sit up, dear?” Papa asked.
She opened her eyes and helped raise him with one hand as she used the other to stuff pillows under him for leverage. “Is that better?”
“Thank you, princess. I’m feeling more like myself today.”
She smiled at her father. “You look on the mend. Your color is back and the twinkle has returned to your eyes. Praise God.”
“Your prayers were heard. God still has plans for this broken body.”
“Would you like me to read to you or fetch some of Hattie’s soup?”
“No, no. I can read to myself for a bit.” He patted her hand as she tucked the blanket under his chin. “Why don’t you take the wagon into town? Hattie needs a few things from the market, and I thought you might have something you want to do. A young woman needs to get out and enjoy herself, not waste away caring for a sick, elderly man.”
“Papa, you’re not elderly.”
“Go. Shoo.” He flicked his fingers at her. “I need some rest, and I can’t fall asleep with someone watching.” His lids lowered and he murmured, “Just remember, let God lead.”
A half-hour later, Hattie pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the market square. Georgia eased herself down and opened her pink parasol to block the sun’s rays. “I’m going to walk around and enjoy the sunshine, Hattie. I’ll make sure I stay within sight.”
“Yes, Miss Georgia.”
The older woman scooped up the basket and wove her way around the people milling about the market.
She knew she shouldn’t, but Georgia couldn’t keep her feet from moving toward the loading docks. Even though her mind listed a slew of objections, her heart longed for one last look of the Essex before the ship disappeared on the horizon. She rounded the shops on the ocean side and froze.
The Essex was still anchored. Her legs carried her, as if of their own accord, in the direction of the waterfront. She stared up at the railing of the ship, praying for one last glimpse of Harrison.
A pair of arms wrapped around her waist and almost toppled her to the ground.
“I knew you’d come. I knew you wouldn’t let us leave without saying goodbye.” Max’s bright face shone up at her.
Precious Max. She bent down and hugged the boy in a tight squeeze. “I’m so glad I found you. I’m still shocked you’re going to leave me all the fish in the Caribbean Sea. How will I be able to reel them all in?”
“I know how we can send secret messages to one another,” Max said.
“How?”
“I’ll put a message into a bottle, drop it in the ocean, and a fish will swallow it. And then, you can catch it. When Hattie slits its guts, you’ll find the messag
e from me. Then you can do the same.”
“That sounds like a splendid idea.” With gentle fingers, she brushed the hair off Max’s forehead and planted a kiss there. “I’ll miss our fishing adventures, but knowing there’s a message out there for me will help.”
He pulled back, and they both blinked away tears. “Yeah, me too.”
“Georgia.”
Harrison’s deep voice reverberated through the marrow of her bones and drew her eyes upward. He looked exactly how he had the first day she’d met him. His buckskin breeches clung in a snug fit to his muscular legs, and his white cambric shirt ruffled in the breeze. He stared at her with a somber expression, but the stormy clouds in his eyes struck her like a hurricane. Her heart squeezed.
She inhaled a steady breath and rose.
He patted Max on the head and told him to wait in the dinghy, then turned back to her. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I tried to stay away.” She let out a weak laugh that turned into a half sob. She should have averted her gaze as she blinked back tears, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “This is hard.”
“All aboard.”
Georgia cringed at the loud call.
“Last chance to board the Essex.”
On the ship, men were scurrying about. But when she looked back, Harrison’s eyes were still on her.
“Come with me.” His eyes widened as if his own words startled him, but then they darkened with resolve. He stepped closer, so close that she had to tip her head back to peer up at him. His fingers fumbled for her hand before enfolding it in a firm grip. The warmth of his skin and his heady scent filled her senses.
She remembered his words on the beach a few days earlier. You are not so easily forgotten. She remembered his kiss as if she were the most valuable possession in all the world.
“Come with me.” His amber eyes implored her, their small saccades searching the depths of her soul for the answer he sought. “We’ll say vows in front of the captain.”
Her mind whirled. In the past, she had used all her wiles in an attempt to coerce a marriage proposal out of a man’s lips. Now that she’d received one, and from a man she truly loved, she wasn’t ready.
Papa still needed her. She couldn’t leave him. A few months ago, she never would have considered her family except to use the proposal as a means to brag. But now, she couldn’t leave her ailing father. Her breath came in short gasps, and her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
“I can’t leave Papa.” Her voice came in a mere whisper.
“I know,” he brushed his knuckles down the side of her face and his eyes took on a sad smile. “But I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask anyway.”
Harrison struggled against the urge to pull Georgia into his arms and place a parting kiss on her soft lips. “Who knew that underneath all those layers of paled pink would lie such a remarkable woman?”
Her face flushed from his compliment, and her eyes lowered, displaying a fan of long lashes against her red cheeks.
A fresh wave of love swept through him, tightening his chest even more. “Your tenderness and passion will be the light that guides me back to you. Don’t let them be snuffed out.” He touched her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “I will return for you.”
He didn’t miss the spark of hope that lit within their blue depths, then fizzled. He needed her to believe him, despite the men in her past who told her the same and then broke their word. “Wait for me.”
“Prepare to raise the sails.” The captain’s voice echoed over the water, and they both glanced in the direction of the ship.
He had so much he needed to say and so little time. “I have something I need to tell you. I shouldn’t have waited so long, but I wanted to be… ”
A hurried passenger carrying a case under his arm brushed past, and Harrison had just enough time to pull Georgia out of his path before the man would have bumped into her.
“All board,” shouted a crewman.
“Georgia, I’m not merely a—”
“Papa!” Max’s voice shouted. “Come on. They’re shoving off.”
His gaze flicked to Max as two sailors pushed the rowboat into the water. He couldn’t let the boat leave without him, especially with his son on board.
He released her hand and ran toward the dinghy. Before stepping into the water, he glanced back. She raised her hand in a silent farewell. He could tell her strained face was fighting back tears. The same burning that stung his own eyes. Water splashed over his boots.
“Wait for me.” He yelled over the sounds of the crashing waves, hoping the noise didn’t eat his words.
A man gripped his arm and hauled him into the boat. He sat in the remaining seat in the center of the dinghy next to Max, but he continued to watch Georgia, willing her to say, Yes, I will wait for you.
“Miss Lennox.” A loud bellow from the shore caused Harrison’s head to snap up. Who was calling Georgia’s name? He recognized that voice but couldn’t place it. He stood as best he could in the rocking boat and scanned the marketplace.
“Miss Lennox.”
Harrison’s eyes focused on the direction of the sound. A man stood about twenty yards away. He held his cane high in the air, and his other hand tipped the brim of his top hat.
Claremont.
Georgia raised her hand, and utter fear electrified Harrison’s blood.
Not now. Claremont couldn’t come for her when he was leaving.
Max tugged on his arm. “Papa, you need to sit down.”
Harrison strained for a last look at Georgia. Was she excited to see Claremont, or was she still waving farewell to Harrison? The waves blocked his view. He would never know.
Blinded by tears and out of sheer instinctive good breeding, Georgia half-waved to whoever was calling her name. She stood on her tiptoes and inched to the water’s edge for a last look at Harrison. Who knew when or if she would see him again? Her voice scratched her throat with her desperate plea as the rowboat reached the ship. “Please, don’t go.”
The dinghy was raised, and it became impossible to discern Harrison from among the people lining the deck, waving their scarfs in goodbye.
She strained for an extra lift to see above the waves and was about to take another step forward until a burly man in suspenders blocked her.
“Careful now miss.” The man took hold of her arm and pulled her back. “You don’t want to be going for a swim.”
Georgia peered down into the water lapping at her boots. For a moment, she stared into its rippled barrier, separating her from the man she loved. After giving herself a quick mental shake, she peered back at the man. “Thank you, sir. I forgot myself for a moment. I’m recovered now.”
A familiar voice behind called her name again, closer this time, but Georgia was focused on a last glimpse of Harrison or Max. The ship’s sails raised and its anchor lifted. The vessel drifted through the waves, intent on its destination. Her chest ached as if she’d been struck by a cannonball. Her hand moved to her breast, and even though she didn’t feel a hole, she knew it was there.
Her heart was sailing with the Essex.
An exuberant wave reached out to wrap itself around her kid boots as if to pull her out to sea, but Georgia stepped back just in time. The foam retreated. With Harrison gone, who would rescue her this time?
“Miss Lennox.”
A hand tapped her shoulder, and she turned. Julien stood beside her in a top hat, coat, and breeches. He reached for her ungloved hand and swept it into his grip.
She couldn’t help the surprise that swept through her, even though she knew Julien was in Nevis.
“Georgia.” His lips purred her name as he attempted to captivate her with an overly confident smile—part seduction, part manipulation. She’d used the same tactics herself. Funny how she’d never noticed the similar gesture in Julien. “My eyes rejoiced the moment they spied you.”
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the top of her knuckles. She didn’t miss t
he narrowing of his eyes as he noted her uneven nails.
“Lord Claremont. It’s good to see you.”
He pivoted and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Here, let me escort you back toward the shops. I shouldn’t want the sand to ruin our boots.”
Georgia stole one last glance over her shoulder at the departing ship and allowed Julien to draw her back to the reality she now faced.
“You are a sight for starving eyes. I’ve missed you.” The glint under his hooded lids used to flutter her heart, but now it turned her stomach.
Now was a good time to place some distance between them. “I hope you bring news from London. How fares Miss Orville?”
His gaze snapped to her face, and she witnessed a flash of guilt before he composed himself. “She… ah, wishes you well but misses your company.”
They stepped out of the sand onto the dockside, and he guided her through the hustle and bustle of shoppers and men hauling away cargo. “It was Mother speaking to your friend, Miss Cynthia Orville, that reminded her of our acquaintance. Mother has decided it is time for me to…ah…settle down. She remembered how famously we’d gotten along and was delighted to hear you were in Nevis, for she’d always wanted to visit the infamous springs.”
So the idea to sail to Nevis hadn’t come from Julien. It was his mother’s. He had no desire to become leg-shackled to Cynthia or her, but his mother was forcing his hand. Surprisingly, she wasn’t disappointed.
Georgia tilted her head and smiled the way she used to. It all came back so easily, the charm and façade. But the behavior grated. She wasn’t this person any longer.
“Let us find a spot in the shade. The heat here is unbearable. Besides, the sun is too strong for your fair complexion.”
She cast him a sideways glance as they strolled toward the shade of a cluster of palm trees. Was he inadvertently scolding her for freckles?