Lady Archer's Creed 02 - Georgina

by Christina McKnight

  Georgie frowned when she entered Father’s office to find the duchess within. Her Grace sat primly on a brocade covered chaise holding her new son—and Georgie’s only sibling. She sought her Father’s gaze and cringed at the seriousness she found there. “Father. Duchess.” She curtsied.

  “Have a seat, Georgina.” Father indicated a high back chair.

  She did as he bid her to, her stomach growing queasier with each breath she drew. Once settled, she looked at Father and gave a forced smile.

  “Dinah brought me some news of your latest endeavors. It seems you have been quite busy of late.”

  Of course the duchess had brought him news, and Georgie would wager that the woman put her in the worst possible light as well. Georgie fought the urge to peer at her stepmother. “Indeed, I have been.”

  Father went to his desk, retrieved a copy of The Times, and brought it to her. “Read that bit there.” He pointed.

  Georgie followed his direction, then began to read.

  Lady G was seen riding down Piccadilly with Miss A and Mr. Felton Crauford—no chaperone in sight. And this after Mr. Crauford pulled Lady G from the Serpentine less than a fortnight ago. One must wonder what is afoot in regard to Lady G and Mr. Crauford. Furthermore, where is the duke while his daughter is running amuck?

  Georgie fought a grin at the same time her cheeks heated. One that only grew more forceful when she thought of Felton reading the same article. She quickly worked to suppress the urge.

  “Georgina.”

  She flinched at the rough edge in Father’s voice as she lifted her head to meet his gaze.

  “What have you to say for yourself?”

  “I cannot apologize for I have done nothing wrong.” She slanted her glance to the duchess. The woman smirked, victory shining in her eyes.

  “Nothing wrong? For heaven’s sake, you were out in public with a man unchaperoned.” Father snatched the paper from her lap and flung it onto his desk. “This may well ruin you. Some doors will likely close to you as the ton reads of your adventures. You’ll fail to make a good match and bring disgrace on our family.”

  “I do not wish to marry.”

  “In this instance, your wishes do not signify. I must safeguard the reputation of this family and our dukedom. I’ll not have you ruining centuries of hard work as well as your brother’s future.” Father looked at the baby resting in the duchess’s arms. “Now that I have an heir, controlling your behavior is more important than ever before.”

  Georgie looked at her new brother and sighed, sensing they would never share a true bond due to the duchess’ meddling. “Mr. Crauford saved my life when he pulled me from the lake. As for being seen riding with him, he came upon Miss Adeline and I, noticed we were alone, and thought it his duty to see us safely home.”

  “Dinah tells me she came upon the two of you engaged in an intimate way on our own staircase not long ago.” Father sat beside the duchess.

  “There was nothing intimate about it. I had been running up the stairs when Mr. Crauford saw me. He worried about my safety and reacted to stop me.” Georgie smoothed her skirt over her thighs. “It is a good thing he was there considering the duchess went into labor while chastising us.”

  “She only cares for your future as I do. You have been skirting the lines of propriety for years. The time has come for you to act as proper ladies do. To that end, you are also forbidden to leave home without a proper chaperone.”

  The duchess pulled a piece of parchment from beside her and handed it to Father.

  “Dinah has taken the time to comprise a list of suitable lords for you to choose from. Anyone of them will do nicely. You need only choose.” He handed the paper to Georgie.

  Suitable lords for her to choose from?

  Choose for what purpose, she wondered.

  She scanned the list, frustration and annoyance making it hard to focus on the names.

  Lord Valton

  Lord Qinnly

  Lord Oscarty

  Lord Kingsly

  Lord Greenford

  Lord Huntly

  Her stomach twisted in knots threatening to expel its contents. “Most of them are old enough to be my father. Lord Greenford could well be my grandfather. Please tell me you do not mean for me to select a husband from this ridiculous list?”

  “I am quite serious. You will be married by season’s end, and if you do not choose your husband, we shall.” He patted his wife’s hand. “Furthermore, your pin money is no more. Perhaps a lack of funds will rein in your reckless nature.”

  Georgie sat forward, her eyes large. “How can you expect me to make a good match if I cannot purchase as much as a pair of gloves?”

  “Do not fret darling, if you find yourself lacking something you need only come to me.” The duchess smiled with triumph. “I will arrange for whatever it is so long as you truly require it.”

  “Father—”

  He held up his hand. “There is no use arguing. I have made my decision. You are dismissed.”

  Georgie stared at him for a long moment before glancing at the duchess. What had that witch done to her father? She scarcely recognized him anymore. There had to be a way to get through to him. “Please, Father—”

  “Do not make this harder on us, Georgina. Accept the consequences of your actions and embrace the responsibilities of your station. You will find that everything works out as it should.”

  She gave a weak nod then quit the room, leaving Father to moon over the witch he shackled himself to and their offspring. She would not marry—certainly none of the lords on her stepmother’s list—they could not force her. The last thing Georgie desired was to become some man’s property. She simply would not allow it.

  Seething, she stomped down the halls, through the foyer, and out to the stables. The nerve of that woman. Not only trying to force some ancient lord on her, but also gaining control of her finances. Well not for long. Georgie would win the Cheapside tourney and roll the winnings into another. The purse from Cheapside was a great deal of money. More than enough to sustain her and finance more tournaments. She would make her way as an archer.

  She mounted her mare and once she reached open land, kicked the horse into a fast gallop. The wind lashed at her, causing her hair to come loose of its chignon and tumble down her back. Georgie only encouraged the horse to run faster. Exhilaration pumped through her as she raced across the estate, jumping fences and weaving around trees. All things her father and stepmother would forbid her doing. The only other thing that gave her the same sense of freedom and excitement was archery.

  Coming to a large ancient willow, Georgie slowed her horse. This had long been her favorite place on the estate. The seclusion offered by the far back corner and grand willow were most welcome. She dismounted and led her horse to a nearby stream for a drink before tying it to the tree. With a sigh, Georgie entered the safety of the tree’s branches and lowered herself to the plush green grass before dropping her face into her hands. Only then did she allow her tears to come.

  Tears of frustration, anger, and sorrow racked her body, causing her shoulders to rise and fall.

  She started at the sensation of something warm and solid touching her back. Sniffling, she looked up into Felton’s warm grey eyes. “I am not sad.”

  He rubbed a small circle on her back, leaving a tingling trail in his wake. “I never accused you of such.”

  “I’m angry and frustrated.” Georgie swiped at her tear-stained cheeks with the back of her kidskin-covered hands.

  “Why is that?” Felton lowered himself to the ground beside her.

  “You would not understand.”

  “Give me some credit, Lady Bug. At the very least, allow me the opportunity to try.”

  For the first time since becoming reacquainted with him, the use of her old nickname soothed rather than annoyed her. Perhaps because her defenses were down. Maybe because in those moments she longed for the past. Before she’d went away to school, before her father had bee
n left alone to fall for her vile stepmother, and before Felton had turned her away as if she were nothing more than a sentimental, silly maid. Regardless, she gave herself over to the comfort found in them. “The duchess has gotten to Father. Thanks to her, he has taken my pin money away and given me until season’s end to make a good match.”

  “You do not wish to marry?” Felton squinted against the bright sunlight filtering in through the willow’s long branches.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Why?”

  Georgie plucked a blade of grass and began twirling it in her fingers. “I do not wish to become someone’s property.”

  “What if that someone loves you and gives you the freedom to be who you are?”

  “Love.” Georgie tossed the blade of grass aside. “Do you believe in it?”

  “Maybe. I would like to believe that it is at least possible for some.”

  She gazed at him like a woman possessed. “I was in love once.”

  “What happened?”

  Good lord, he truly hadn’t known how she’d felt all those years ago. She swallowed and looked away. Perhaps it hadn’t been love she’d felt at all—she’d been a mere child, after all. “The gentleman did not return my ardor.”

  “Then he was a bloody fool.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Do you honestly believe that?”

  “I do.” Felton took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, then tilted her head up until he was staring into her eyes. “Never doubt how special you are, Lady Bug.”

  A great wave of emotion crested within her, overwhelming her, and she choked back a fresh round of sobs as she fled the safety of the trees limbs.

  What the devil was she thinking saying such things to him? Had she gone completely bird-witted? Georgie marched toward her mare with haste. Faltering on a pit in the ground, she lost her footing. Her hip smacked against the grass followed by her head. Perfect. Just bloody perfect.

  She attempted to stand but a searing pain shot across her ankle. Within a heartbeat, Felton was at her side. “My ankle. I twisted it.”

  He knelt and began removing her boot.

  Georgie stared up at the blue sky wishing she could climb onto one of the wispy clouds and float away. Her cheeks burned as Felton took her foot in his hand and rolled her stocking down, past her ankle. “Is it bad?”

  “There is no bruising.” He rubbed his fingers over her flesh sending ripples of sensation up her leg. “I do not believe you sprained it and it certainly is not broke.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief and regarded her ankle. The Cheapside tournament was only days away. It would not do for her to compete on a bad ankle.

  “There is mild swelling. Nothing a little rest shouldn’t cure.” He brought his lips to her skin, pressing a warm kiss to the side of her ankle while he massaged her foot.

  Georgie’s head fell back, a moan escaping from deep within her.

  He trailed his kiss up her leg and heat flared within, threatening to reduce her to cinders. She closed her eyes on another moan, savoring the feel of his touch, his kiss.

  As suddenly as he had brought his mouth to her flesh, he pulled away, leaving her longing.

  “I should not have done that.”

  Georgie gazed at him, taking in the handsome angle of his jaw and fullness of his lips before meeting his warm eyes. “A pity, for I found it pleasing.”

  He gave a rakish grin. “Nonetheless, I overstepped. Allow me to take you home.”

  She gave a nod and he scooped her into his arms. She could only imagine how much fun the duchess would have with this. Felton returning her without her boot on and her stocking rolled scandalously low. “Perhaps you can put me on my horse. I think myself capable of riding.”

  “You will damage your ankle further if you try.” He sat her across his horse, then mounted behind her.

  Georgie found herself powerless to resist as he pulled her close once more.

  Chapter 8

  Felton approached the duke determined to change his mind about his mining the ducal land. After all he had done for the man’s daughter and wife, he was certain he would reconsider. He had to. Felton’s had no other option.

  His own mine was fast running dry as were his finances. Seeking a new deposit on his Father’s estate would take more coin than he possessed. The only deposit Felton could access without spending an abundance of funds was the duke’s. He smiled at the Duke of Balfour from across the man’s vast desk. “Did you receive the reports I sent over yesterday?”

  “I did.” The duke steepled his fingers, his elbows resting on the mahogany surface as he studied Felton. “You are tenacious, I’ll grant you that. I do not disparage of the quality. However, I am still opposed to allowing you to strip my land.”

  “Why don’t you agree to visit my current mine. See firsthand what it does to the land? I am certain you will draw the conclusion that the minimal disruption to the ground is well worth the coin to be made.”

  The duke shook his head. “There is no need. I care not how little the disturbance is. The fact that there is one at all is what I cannot abide.”

  “After all I have done for your wife and daughter will you not at least consider my new proposal.” Felton glanced at the contract he’d laid on the duke’s desk.

  “I will take a look, but for no other reason than to appease you.” The duke gave him a stern look. “Do not think for one moment that dallying with my daughter will gain you my favor. I assure you, your actions in regards to her are most displeasing. Unless, of course, you intend to marry her.”

  Felton swallowed hard before averting his gaze to the window behind the duke. Marry Georgie? His gaze trailed along the folds of the heavy green drapes. He’d never considered the likes. She was stunning and her spirited nature excited him as much as it vexed. Not to mention that of all the ladies he had met, she was the only one who came close to matching his own ambitions. She had told him that the duke demanded she wed.

  Why not to him?

  His lips warmed at the memory of him kissing her ankle and the creamy skin of her leg. Had he ever sampled such a delectable treat? What would it be like to have the right to ravish her? He would wager that he’d never get enough of her.

  “I see you have changed your offer to forty percent.”

  Felton jerked his attention back to the duke. “Indeed.”

  “It is a strong offer, but as I told you previously, I am not interested. Not even for one hundred percent. I have no desire to get into the mining business.”

  “Perhaps you would consider leasing me the land or selling it outright?” Felton had no idea where he would come up with the coin to do either, but he could not give up.

  “It is not for rent or sale.” The duke slid the parchment back toward Felton. “Now I must insist you cease trying to gain my consent as it has grown tiresome.”

  “We are both well aware of how that land wound up in the hands of the ducal estate.” It still rankled Felton to know that it had been stolen from his family.

  The duke drew his brows together. “I should think that if anyone has a right to question the ownership of my property, it would be a man in possession of a title.”

  Felton held his shoulders more squarely, his back ridged. “And yet, here I am despite my lack of title.”

  “Your family has their version and mine has ours. Regardless, it happened a century ago and has no bearing on anything now.”

  “Other than the fact that had your ancestor not tricked mine, the land would still be part of my family’s estate and I would be free to do with it as I please.”

  The duke glared at Felton. “Now you are calling my family’s honor into question.”

  “There is no honor in thievery.”

  “There is even less in crawling so deep into one’s cups that you lose your self-control.”

  Felton stood with such force that his chair wobbled behind him. “Your ancestor plied mine with strong drink under the guise of celebrating, the
n fooled him into signing away the land. There is no honor in that.”

  “See yourself out, Mr. Crauford, and do not come to me again with this foolish notion of mining my land.”

  Felton flung the door open and stormed from the office. The nerve of that man! Father had warned Felton. Told him he would get nowhere with the stubborn duke. Still, he had hoped the man would be reasonable. That their past associations and his aide of the duchess and Georgie would count for something.

  He would show the duke. Felton would win Cheapside and put the funds into locating a new mineral deposit. A richer deposit then had yet to be seen in all of England. Why hadn’t he thought of it before?

  Felton grinned. The duke would not stand between him and his future. He’d not allow it.

  For the past several days Felton had stewed in his outrage over the duke’s denial and insults while trying to keep Georgie from his mind. He threw all of his energy into his mining and practicing for Cheapside. The tournament now merely days away, he’d determined to spend most of his time with his bow in hand.

  He glanced out across the vast rolling hills of his father’s estate as he walked with his bow over his shoulder toward his favorite patch of flat land. It was where he and Georgie had practiced as children. An area that lay half on the ducal estate and half on his father, the Viscount’s. He stopped for a moment to watch a hawk circling the sky, gliding just below a bank of white clouds that drifted across the blue expanse.

  As a lad, he had been fascinated with the way the birds glided, so majestic, so free. Father had once told him that he was much like the hawk, able to carve his own future without the responsibilities of his brother, the heir to the title. Back then, the suggestion had filled him with delight. The idea that he could do anything, go anywhere, control his own destiny separate from the viscount title. Now he saw it for what it truly was—a constant struggle to find one’s way in the world.

  He readjusted his bow and continued over the next hill.

  “You must learn to relax in front of a crowd so you will be able to properly execute your shots at Cheapside as you are now.”