by Lorri Dudley
She smiled at Mr. Bixby, who extended his hand to aid her descent from the conveyance. His face was clean, his clothing freshly pressed. “Good day, Mr. Bixby.”
He bent into a deep bow. “Good day, Miss Georgia Lennox.” He rose with a broad smile that wrinkled the forked creases beside his eyes. “I owe you a debt of gratitude. I am proud to be part of the Lennox household staff. Thank you on my behalf, my wife’s, and my children’s. You have a saintly heart. God bless you.”
Georgia nodded to him and followed Eleanor to the main entrance with newfound warmth seeping into her heart. Saintly, no, but it felt remarkable to do God’s work.
The deep ache that had persisted since she’d watched the Essex sail lessened a bit. Maybe helping others could overshadow the pain. There was hope. God had a plan, and He would still use her. She had wanted to help others by Harrison’s side, but if God intended differently, then maybe she needed to trust that He had a better plan for her life.
She longed to tell Harrison what she’d just experienced. He’d be overjoyed.
The all-too-familiar stab of pain punctured her heart. Would she ever have the opportunity to tell him?
She blinked away tears. All would be well. God rejoiced with her.
Carriages lined the stables, with even more approaching. The three-storied house towered in front of her, its long wings stretching out to the east and west with rows of mullioned windows. Ladies strolled about the grounds like peacocks, all gussied up to attract the eye of the duke.
She knew Eleanor had used her friendship with the duke’s cousin to procure them an invitation. However, she didn’t esteem the prestigious house party as she once would have. Georgia swallowed and followed in Eleanor’s wake, past the massive columns and through the grand main entrance.
“Eleanor, dear.” A dark-haired woman approached, dressed in an elaborate gown with enough embellishments to make it weigh at least two stones. She kissed Eleanor on both cheeks, and Eleanor introduced Lady Macomb, the Countess of Amesbury, to Georgia, who bobbed a curtsy.
“James will escort you to your bedchambers to freshen up. Afterward, meet me in the front drawing room and I’ll provide you a tour of the house and grounds.”
They followed the footman through the reception hall, up an elegant stairway with hand-carved scrolled railings, and down a long corridor to their rooms. He opened both doors and stepped aside.
“That will be all, James.” Eleanor dismissed the servant.
They both donned fresh gowns with the help of the ladies’ maid provided for them, then joined Lady Macomb in the drawing room for the tour.
As they passed from room to room, Eleanor leaned in and whispered into Georgia’s ear. “You keep a lookout for Mr. Wells and I’ll keep an eye out for the duke.”
Georgia didn’t miss the look of determination in Eleanor’s eyes or the firm line of her lips. She’d seen the same look on her mother’s face whenever she set her mind to something. What was her sister up to? Hopefully she doesn’t have a mind to match-make Georgia with the duke.
The tour led to the terrace, which was surrounded by lush perennial gardens and a large fountain. Eleanor pulled Georgia to the outside edge of the cluster of women. They descended the steps, and Lady Macomb pointed to the right.
“Over there is a court for Pall Mall if anyone plays.” She waved her hand. “Beyond that lies the steward’s house and the woods where the gentlemen fox hunt. His Grace shall be returning from their outing at any moment.”
Eleanor grabbed Lady Macomb’s arm and pointed back toward the gardens, asking her some nonsense about horticulture. With her other hand, Eleanor shoved Georgia in the direction of the steward’s house. Georgia didn’t waste a moment. She discretely slipped around a hedge and down a grassy aisle toward the little cottage on the edge of the wood.
Her heart raced as she approached the door, but she suppressed her excitement, knowing the chances were slim. In her mind, she ran through what to ask when the duke’s steward answered the door. Sir, I must apologize, but I’m looking for someone. You may have heard of him within your profession…
Chapter 31
…Life as a vicar’s wife is grand. Our wedding day was lovely. It seemed all of Nevis attended.
—From Lady Tessa Clark to the Lennox family.
Harrison drew to a halt as he breached the woods and stepped into the open yard. He patted Max on the back. “You did well today, son. Next time we’ll focus on how to cover your sneeze, so it doesn’t scare off the prey. Now run along and get yourself cleaned up. Your grandmother will want you appearing your best in front of her guests.”
“Yes, Papa.” Max darted off toward the house. Harrison shifted the rifle slung across his back and strolled toward the west entrance. He rounded the outside corner of the garden and spotted a woman, finely dressed, knocking on the door to his steward’s home.
His steps slowed. Either Mr. Langley was inappropriately entertaining house guests, or one of them was hopelessly lost. Whichever it may be, Harrison knew it was his duty as host to investigate.
He drew closer, squinted, and stopped. He recognized that shape. The woman knocked a third time, but there was no answer. If he remembered correctly, Langley was off inspecting the far pasture.
She turned around and glanced about. He advanced a few steps and froze. He must be hallucinating. His heart wanted to see her so badly he was imagining things.
He rubbed a hand down his face. With eyes closed, he told himself he was crazy. It was only wishful thinking.
He opened his eyes.
There, knocking on his steward’s door, was Georgia Lennox.
A jolt ran through his body, but logic quickly dampened the effect. What was she doing here? How did she discover he was a duke? What about Claremont? Did she leave him in Nevis, or did they return together?
He resumed his approach. Why was she knocking on his steward’s door?
“Georgia?”
Georgia jumped and spun around to face him. Her familiar face stirred his insides in a way he wasn’t prepared for. Lord, she’s beautiful. She always had been, but now, with the small spattering of freckles across her nose, she looked even more appealing, more natural.
Her eyes widened. A multitude of emotions chased across her face—disbelief, amazement, elation, confusion.
“Harrison.” Her entire countenance lifted and brightened, illuminating her features in a rosy glow. “It’s you.” She closed the distance between them. “I am so glad I’ve finally found you.”
His heart lurched, pulsing through his fingers for want of pulling her into his arms. But he needed to know why she was here.
“I made a terrible mistake. I’ve crossed the Atlantic, searched every property in greater London and beyond, and even posted myself in front of Colton’s Cheese Shop to just find you…” Her words drifted off as she caught her breath.
What did Colton’s Cheese Shop have to do with anything? He searched her face, then stepped toward her. “How did you get here? When?” With who? But he couldn’t gather the courage to voice his last question.
She placed a slender hand on his chest, and Harrison’s muscles leapt in response.
“I always thought I needed an earl to prove myself, but all I really need is a steward.” Her other hand flittered through the air. “My sisters can think what they want, and Mama may always be disappointed in me, but I’ll listen to their chastisement for the rest of my days if necessary. I’m in love with a steward, and I want to be his wife and bear his children.”
Harrison closed his eyes and gave his head a little shake to clear it. “You’re telling me you traveled halfway around the world because you’re in love with a steward?”—my steward?
“I love you, Harrison Wells. I’ve loved you since the moment you carried me in your arms out of the raging storm.”
As much as her words sent a thrill through him, not everything was making sense. Then a hazy memory surfaced of a time when they sat across the table from one
another in Fredrick’s villa, and Georgia asked if he managed an estate. He had replied, something like that.
She believes I’m the Duke of Linton’s steward. He should throw his head back and laugh. Yet his heart was too tied in knots to find humor. “What about Claremont? You didn’t arrive with him?”
“Julien?”
Harrison’s jaw clenched. He hated her even saying his name.
“Heavens no. I had no idea he was coming to Nevis. I no longer wanted anything to do with him. I love you.” She removed her palm from his chest and reached for his hand, squeezing it. “That’s why Papa and I sailed from Basseterre.”
Harrison blinked. “Fredrick is here?”
“No. I mean yes. Papa is in London. He’s becoming reacquainted with Mama. He said it was overdue, but he’s not here at this party. My sister Eleanor accompanied me.”
“But Claremont came for you. I saw him from the ship. I thought…”
“He sent word as soon as the ship arrived, but I didn’t—”
“You didn’t speak to him?” His eyes narrowed in disbelief. He’d seen her wave to him from the beach.
“He approached me and babbled on about something.” Her brows drew together, and her gaze fell. “I don’t remember what. I couldn’t go back to being the old Georgia. I’m a new person. I’ve been made whole, thanks to God.” She peered back up at him. “I handed Claremont my parasol—the only pink item I still owned—and walked away. That’s the last I saw of him.”
Slowly, the tension began to melt from his chest, allowing him a deep inhale.
Georgia was here. She hadn’t stayed with Claremont. She’d sailed the Atlantic to find him. Not the Duke of Linton, but Harrison Wells, the steward. Georgia loved him for him.
Thank you, Lord, for answered prayers.
She wrapped her slender fingers around his other hand. “I know you asked me to wait for you, but I couldn’t wait. I needed to find you.”
Harrison peered into eyes so filled with love. His blood raced through his veins, and his heart thundered in his chest. He opened his mouth to say the words, marry me…
“Your Grace,” a woman called out across the yard. Harrison frowned and glanced over his shoulder to see Miss Ruth Carlson. Georgia still had no idea he was the duke, and Miss Carlson’s long strides didn’t leave him much time to explain things.
He put his hands on her shoulders, pinning her against the exterior wall. “Georgia, listen to me. I—”
“There you are.” Ruth’s sister, Lady Rowena Carlson, appeared out of nowhere and peeked around the far corner of the house.
Harrison let go of Georgia’s shoulders and rubbed the lower half of his face with his hand. He held up one finger. “Stay here a moment. I’ll be right back.”
He stalked off in the direction of Lady Rowena and pulled her aside.
“Your Grace,” she said, “you promised you’d teach me how to play Pall Mall.” She trailed her folded fan down the lapel of his jacket with a demure pout.
“I’m busy at the moment.” He grasped her wrist when she didn’t remove her fan from his shirtfront. “Another time perhaps.” He glanced over his shoulder. Georgia stared back at him with a mixture of hurt and confusion.
“Harrison? Who is she? I thought—”
“Georgia, I can explain.”
Lady Rowena turned to Georgia and laughed. “Is she confusing you with someone else?” She hung on his arm. “Don’t you recognize our host, His Grace, the Duke of Linton?” She turned back to him and shook her head at such a preposterous notion. “As I recall, your given name is Robert?”
“Robert Harrison.” The name slipped from his lips.
“You’re a duke?” Georgia’s face paled, and her eyes darted back and forth between himself and Lady Rowena. Her gaze slid down to where his fingers encased Lady Rowena’s wrist, and her chin trembled.
The look of betrayal in Georgia’s eyes ripped a hole through Harrison’s heart. He stepped toward her, but Lady Rowena gripped his arm.
Georgia staggered back, then lifted her skirts and sprinted for the house. It took precious seconds to pry off Lady Rowena’s fingers, leaving Georgia a fair head start. He chased her across the yard, through an on-going game of Pall Mall, nearly tripping over a rolling ball, and through the garden, brushing past startled guests. Ruth Carlson smiled and blocked his way, but he sidestepped her and kept running. He’d almost caught up with Georgia near the patio, but his mother rose from her group of guests seated at tables and stepped in his path. “Linton, dear. So glad you’re finally putting in an appearance. May I introduce you—”
“In a moment, Mother.”
He raised his gaze just in time to see Georgia scurry through the North portico entrance and into the house.
“Georgia, wait.”
His mother placed a hand on his arm. “Is that the same Miss Georgia that Max speaks of so highly?”
Harrison ignored her and skirted away. Another woman’s voice carried the answer, “Miss Georgia Lennox, I believe,” as he leapt over a low hedge onto the brick patio. His hunting rifle still slung over his shoulder slammed into his back as he landed.
Harrison charged up the steps onto the north portico. A footman, carrying a tray of glasses filled with lemonade, exited through the doorway at the same time Harrison entered. He tried to shift to the side, but he was moving too quickly. He slammed into the tray. A loud crash ensued, and Harrison found himself drenched in the sticky-sweet liquid.
He reached down, grasped the footman by his wrist and elbow, and yanked the man to his feet. “Dreadfully sorry.”
Ignoring the mess, he tried to determine which direction Georgia had gone. A shove pushed him toward the door. He whirled around with clenched fingers to discover a woman who appeared to be an older version of Georgia.
“That way,” she said and pointed in the direction of the parlor. “The servants will handle the mess,” the woman said. “I’ll stall the guests so you two can talk.”
Harrison broke into a run, his slick shoes barely gaining traction on the highly polished floor of the solarium. Ladies called his name as he passed, but he ignored them as he dodged a chair and averted a sofa in the back parlor, then rushed into the back hall. His breath came in gasps as he rounded the corner.
The stodgy butler’s tone drifted down the hallway. “Calm yourself, miss. We’ll bring your carriage around right away.”
Harrison skidded into the turn, sliding past the entrance to the reception hall on the marble floors. He grabbed the frame to stop himself, then pulled his body through the doorway.
Georgia gasped. Her stunned face stared at him with pained eyes, glistening with tears.
“Georgia.” He was breathing so hard, he almost couldn’t get the word out.
Instead of waiting, she pushed the butler out of the way. The poor man stumbled against a side table, almost knocking over a priceless vase, which he managed to save with an inch to spare. Georgia yanked open the door and raced outside.
A crooked smile lifted one side of Harrison’s face as he lent a hand to right the butler before chasing after her. He shouldn’t have been surprised by her actions. Georgia didn’t let anything stand in her way. She’d crossed an ocean for him and turned over half the countryside to find him because she loved him. His poor butler didn’t stand a chance.
She slowed to locate the stables, and it was enough of a pause for him to catch up with her. He grasped her arm and spun her around to face him.
Through heaving breaths, he managed to say, “I can explain.”
Her eyes were cavernous pools of turquoise blue, the color of the Caribbean Sea, and filled with as much torment. Tears poured down her cheeks and formed dark splotches on her pale lavender gown. She tried to yank her arm out of his grasp, but he held fast.
“You were funning me?” The hurt in her voice made his heart ache. “Did you laugh each time my back was turned? Did my father know? Did I provide you both with enough entertainment?” She squeezed her e
yes shut, sending more tears cascading over their brims. “What a naïve, green-girl I am. And to think I loved you.”
“Georgia, look at me.” He grasped her upper arms and gave her a little shake to get her to open her eyes. A commotion sounded to his right as the footman readied the carriage. “I love you. You must know that.” He gently squeezed her shoulders. “I am a duke, but no one in all of Nevis knew. Not even your father. I relinquished my title and sailed to Nevis, not only to avoid the memory of Laura but also to get away from the ambitious women trying to force my hand into marriage.”
He willed her to see the truth in his gaze. “I wanted the right woman to be Max’s mother. I want that person to be you. You are the only woman for me.”
She stopped trying to pull away. However, the skeptical glare in her eyes remained. “But what about the woman you promised to teach Pall Mall?”
“I met her for the first time this morning at breakfast. I mentioned there would be a match this afternoon. She said she didn’t know how to play. All I said was there would be plenty of people to instruct her. She is the exact type of woman I ran to Nevis to get away from, scheming and manipulative. There is nothing between us. You and you alone hold my heart.”
She swallowed and searched the deep recesses of his eyes.
He could only pray the truth of his words showed on his face.
“I do?” Her expression softened with such optimism that he smiled.
“I love you, Georgia Lennox. Can you love me as a schoolteacher or a steward or a duke?”
She smiled through her tears. “I would love you if you were a rat-catcher.”
He chuckled. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and traced the line of her jaw. A horse neighed in the background, and the clip-clop of the animals’ hoofs ran in time with the beating of his heart.
“Your coach is nearly here, but please don’t leave. I cannot stand another moment without you.” He drew her closer. “Marry me. Be my wife and stay by my side until Jesus calls us home.”