by Laura Martin
* * *
Every morning since their kiss a couple of weeks ago Georgina had woken with the image of Sam in her mind. He’d haunted her dreams with his confident grin and his teasing words, but mostly she’d woken feeling hot with thoughts of him kissing her, running his lips over her skin and making her his.
They were not thoughts a well brought-up young lady should have. Ever. Even about her husband, if much of society had their way. And certainly not about a convicted criminal who she barely knew while she was supposed to be searching for a reputable husband.
Despite trying to put him from her thoughts, vowing every night she would wake up and think of nothing more than spring flowers and newborn lambs, every morning there he was, haunting her.
And now here they were. Alone again, unchaperoned and able to do whatever they pleased with hardly any chance of being found out. The rest of the hunting party had moved on and Sam’s friend would be almost back at the house by now with Lord Rosenhall.
Georgina swallowed, feeling her feet move towards him before her conscious mind acknowledged her decision.
‘Kiss me one more time,’ she murmured. Knowing that whatever she said she didn’t want it to be the last time.
His lips were on hers instantly, gently at first, but within seconds his hands were tangled in her hair and he was pulling her even closer. Georgina looped her arms around his body, feeling the taut muscles of his chest and back.
Momentarily he pulled away and Georgina groaned as his lips found her neck, trailing kisses across the sensitive skin just below her earlobe and making her shiver with anticipation.
‘I know we shouldn’t...but I can’t seem to keep away from you,’ she whispered as his mouth sank lower, brushing up against the high neck of her riding habit.
‘We shouldn’t,’ Sam agreed, his lips barely leaving her skin.
He pulled her closer again and through the thick layers of both their clothes she could feel his hardness. A primal longing somewhere deep inside her started to well up and it was all she could do to resist tearing at his clothes and begging him to make her his.
She gasped as he slid a finger beneath the thick material of her riding habit and deftly undid the fastening that held the neck together. Only a small patch of skin was exposed, but immediately his lips found it and once again Georgina’s body responded instantly.
‘Wait,’ he said, pulling away, and to her embarrassment she actually groaned as his lips left her skin.
This should have been the moment they came to their senses, Georgina knew that, but instead she watched impatiently as he tied the horses’ reins to an overhanging tree branch and then turned back to her, a hungry and almost possessive look in his eyes.
Quickly he led her over to a fallen tree trunk, gently pushing her down on to it and then sinking down next to her. His fingers pushed back the riding habit from her shoulders. Only the skin of her neck was exposed, Georgina had worn multiple layers to combat the cold and Sam let out a groan of frustration.
‘Damn weather,’ he murmured, tracing a finger along her bare skin. Then he kissed her again, taking her breath away, and for a long time Georgina could think of nothing but his lips on hers.
When he pulled away, Georgina had no sense of how long they had been sitting there, only the icy chill in her feet indicating it was probably much longer than they should.
‘We have to get back,’ she said, a sudden panic washing over her. The party might have been split, but their absence would be noted eventually. Even though all she wanted to do was stay in the woods with Sam, it couldn’t happen. Already she’d been beyond reckless, kissing him again, allowing the totally unrealistic fantasies to build in her mind.
She glanced at him, half of her hoping he would protest, wrap his arms around her, and refuse to let her go. A stab of disappointment ran through her as he nodded curtly and stood, turning back to take her hand and pull her from the fallen tree trunk. She had to keep telling herself that to him she was nothing more than a dalliance. And he should be nothing more than a temptation to be overcome in these few weeks before her wedding.
Allowing him to help her mount, she didn’t wait for Sam to vault onto his horse’s back and take the reins of Lord Rosenhall’s mount before setting off through the forest. She didn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes.
‘He’s never promised you anything,’ she whispered to herself over and over again. And it was true. He’d never talked of a future together, never given her false hope. It wasn’t hard to see that he genuinely liked her, that the kisses they’d shared weren’t calculated to boost some deeper, hidden agenda. They were spontaneous and, just as she couldn’t seem to keep away from him, she could see he fought the same struggle with her.
Despite all this Georgina still felt disappointed. He hadn’t promised her anything, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want anything. Time and again she’d found herself daydreaming about riding through the wilds of Australia with Sam by her side as her husband. It was a life of freedom, a life of choices, the exact opposite of what she had now.
‘Georgina,’ Sam called from somewhere behind her, but they were out in the open now and she had the advantage of not needing to lead another horse back to the stables.
Pretending not to hear him, she pushed on, opening up the distance between them.
‘Lady Georgina,’ another deep voice called from somewhere to her left.
Quickly she turned, spotting the Duke making straight for her, and with a grimace slowed her pace. This was the man she ought to be thinking about, not wasting her time on someone who was completely unsuitable.
‘Your Grace,’ she said, summoning her sunniest smile.
‘I noticed your absence at the hunt—is anything amiss?’
‘Lord Rosenhall took a tumble,’ Georgina said, trying to ignore the sound of Sam riding up behind them. ‘Mr Crawford has ridden on ahead and taken him back to the house, but the rest of the party, those who witnessed the fall, thought it best to return as well.’
Georgina saw the Duke’s eyes flicker to where Sam was approaching.
‘Miss Yaxley and Miss Farley, myself and Mr Robertson have returned. The rest of the hunting party didn’t notice, I don’t think,’ Georgina said, trying to make out she hadn’t been alone with Mr Robertson.
‘No, I only noticed a few minutes ago and thought I would ensure nothing had happened,’ the Duke said grimly. ‘I apologise for my lack of observation.’
‘There is no need to apologise, your Grace.’
‘Shall we return to the house and check on Lord Rosenhall? If need be, I can always ride out to alert the rest of the hunting party and your father when we have more information.’
Together they turned their horses towards the house and set out at a comfortable pace. Georgina was aware of Sam hanging back, allowing her to arrive at Westchester Place with the Duke and not him. She should have been pleased with his consideration, but inside she felt as though her heart was bruised.
‘Did you enjoy the hunt?’ Georgina asked, knowing she needed to make more of an effort with the man who might well end up being her future husband.
Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she wondered what it would be like to spend the rest of her life as his wife. He was attractive enough, although in completely different ways to Sam. The Duke was tall and lean with dark hair and fair skin—a look that hinted at a life spent mainly indoors. Sam was the complete opposite, with a firm physique and taut muscles that could only be acquired through physical work and tanned skin that hadn’t lost its glow despite him spending the past month in England in winter.
Stop comparing them, she told herself silently.
The Duke seemed kind and easy to talk to and so far she hadn’t spotted any repulsive habits, but despite this she just couldn’t imagine waking up as his wife every day for the rest of her life.
C
hapter Sixteen
The house was in disarray, with half the male guests still out hunting with Lord Westchester and everyone else gossiping about what had happened to poor Lord Rosenhall. Georgina ensured she had paid the injured man a short visit, accompanied by her mother, just as the doctor was leaving. Lord Rosenhall had probably broken some ribs, but luckily his legs had escaped any fractures and were just bruised and sprained. He would recover and until then the doctor had given him a hefty dose of laudanum to ease some of the discomfort he was feeling.
With her duty done, Georgina informed her mother that she was suffering with a headache and was going to lie down for the rest of the afternoon. Normally her mother would have protested at Georgina abandoning her guests like this, but it was evidence of how much the accident had shaken Lady Westchester that she just murmured her agreement and said she would see Georgina at dinner.
Sitting at her writing desk, Georgina fiddled with the ink pot, wondering what she should put in the note she was trying to write on the blank piece of paper in front of her. Last night she’d promised to accompany Sam to the village where he’d spent his childhood.
What she should put in the note was an apology and excuse for backing out of their plans, but somehow her fingers wouldn’t obey the rational part of her brain. She needed space from him, time to try to understand what the roiling emotions deep inside her actually meant. The last thing she needed was to spend an illicit afternoon in his company.
Although...she had promised.
Dipping her pen in the ink, she wrote quickly before she had a chance to change her mind again.
Dear Sam,
I will meet you at the estate gates at three.
Georgina
Peeking out of her bedroom door, Georgina waited for a passing maid and quietly asked her to deliver the note to Mr Robertson. No doubt there would be a little gossip in the servants’ quarters, but it was safer than Georgina being caught in the guest wing with an incriminating message.
* * *
Sam didn’t carry a pocket watch—there wasn’t much need for it when he was back home, timings were determined by the brightness of the sun and the heat of the day, and his social calendar hadn’t exactly been full. He’d left the house at half past two, saddled up his horse, declining the offer of help from the grooms, and taken a leisurely ride down the long drive to the front gates. Now he was waiting.
Part of him wondered if Georgina would change her mind. It would be the sensible thing to do after their kiss in the woods, it was what he should be encouraging, but instead he found himself hoping to see her appearing around the curve in the driveway.
‘Keep your distance,’ he cautioned himself, knowing that he wouldn’t take his own advice. Even though he knew one day soon Georgina would probably hate him for what he would do to her father, he still couldn’t seem to keep her from his thoughts.
‘Good afternoon.’ The voice came from behind him, causing Sam to wheel around quickly. Georgina was approaching along the lane leading to the main gates of the estate. ‘I thought it best to leave the grounds through one of the smaller gates,’ Georgina explained, ‘just in case anyone noted our movements.’
‘Very sensible,’ Sam murmured. He was too distracted to say any more, his mind remembering their kiss just a little too vividly and his body responding to that memory. He wanted to lean across the gap between them, pull Georgina from her horse and settle her in his lap.
‘I probably shouldn’t have come,’ Georgina said as they set out at a sedate pace down the lane.
‘Probably not,’ Sam agreed.
‘Normally I’m very sensible,’ Georgina murmured. ‘It’s just these last few weeks...’
She glanced at him and he grinned at her.
‘It’s my irresistible Australian charm.’
‘I think I’m losing my mind. I should be back at the house trying to get the Duke to propose to me.’
‘Do you want the Duke to propose to you?’
He found it hurt more than it should when she shrugged. ‘It would keep my parents happy.’
‘What about your happiness?’
‘That doesn’t come into it,’ she said.
Sam could understand the notion of not having any choices in life. For years he had been treated as less than human, not allowed to even decide what clothes he wore or when he rose from bed in the morning. When he had served out his sentence, during those first few heady weeks of being a free man, he had felt a little overwhelmed by the multitude of decisions he had to make throughout the day. Even then, he would never have wanted to go back to not being able to decide the little things like what to have for breakfast or the big things such as what to do with his life. Everyone deserved that freedom.
‘Enough about me,’ Georgina said brightly, as if trying to push away a horrible thought with a breezy tone. ‘This afternoon is about you. We’ve spent enough time dwelling on my inevitable marriage.’
In truth, Sam would like to dwell on it a little more, until Georgina saw she shouldn’t have to go through with a union that might make her unhappy for the rest of her life. Instead he nodded in agreement. After all, it wasn’t as though he could offer her an appealing alternative future.
‘Would it be too painful to tell me about your childhood?’ Georgina asked.
He shook his head. His childhood contained mainly happy memories. Although his father had died when he was young, Sam’s mother had strived to provide a happy and safe home for her children. They might not have had much money, but Sam had always felt loved. That he was grateful for.
‘My father died when I was young,’ Sam said, ‘so my mother raised all of us children by herself. She was a strong woman and I can’t ever remember wanting for anything despite the loss of our father.’
‘Did she work?’
Sam nodded, remembering the day she’d started work at Westchester Place. All the family had harboured high hopes of the future. After a bleak spell following Sam’s father’s death the job at Westchester Place had seemed like a godsend, a fresh start for the bereaved family. His mother’s fears that she would not be able to provide for her children had subsided with her new source of income and her optimism had rubbed off on her children.
‘She was a cook,’ he said, trying to keep his answers as vague as possible. There were only a handful of families in the area with a house anywhere near as grand as Westchester Place and Georgina would be familiar with all of them. ‘She enjoyed her work,’ he added. Both his parents had believed that if you worked hard and lived a good and honest life then you would be rewarded in kind. Their philosophy had rubbed off on Sam as a child and it had made being arrested for a crime he hadn’t committed that much harder to accept.
‘And you said you had sisters?’
‘Two younger. Anne was eight when I was sentenced and Betty was six.’ Two beautiful little girls with the same golden blond hair as him. They’d looked perpetually angelic, with wide smiles and perfect dimples, although they had been cheeky and full of life. It had been a while since he’d thought of his two sweet little sisters, always finding the memories too hard, too painful. When he thought of the lives they could be living now a lump formed in his throat.
‘I’m sorry,’ Georgina said and he could see she truly felt for him. Not that he supposed she could imagine losing her freedom and entire family within the space of a few months. ‘You said it was a winter fever?’
He grimaced. That was the simple explanation. His mother and sisters had contracted one of the deadly fevers that spread through the villages every winter and that year they had succumbed, but Sam knew there was more to it than that.
‘After I was arrested, my mother lost her job and from what I could gather found it hard to gain another position,’ he said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. ‘Without my father around, or any other close family, they would have struggled
to buy food. When the fever hit they would have been malnourished and vulnerable.’
He’d seen it time and time again as a child. It was always the weakest, those who had not had a proper meal for weeks, that were the most susceptible, succumbing to the illnesses and diseases that would claim their lives.
Georgina shook her head. ‘Sometimes you don’t realise the far-reaching consequences of a single action. One false accusation and it doesn’t just ruin the life of the accused, but those around him as well,’ she said quietly.
It was something he’d often pondered, whether his family would still have been alive if the Earl hadn’t accused him of theft. Sam knew in reality it was impossible to say one way or another, but in his heart he believed they would be.
They rode in silence for a few minutes, bending their heads against the icy winds and flexing their fingers against the chill.
‘Have you ever thought about confronting the person who accused you?’ Georgina asked as they rounded a bend in the road. Up ahead in the distance Sam could just about make out the steeple of Little Abington’s church. It was a sight that conjured up all manner of memories, always the first sight to be seen on any journey home.
‘The E...’ Sam quickly trailed off. He’d nearly let slip it was an earl who’d condemned him to six years of hard labour and been instrumental in the deaths of his family. Georgina’s father was the only Earl for miles and miles, it would be rather obvious who he meant. ‘The evil old bastard that ruined my life?’ he corrected himself quickly.
Georgina nodded, not commenting on his language.
‘I’ve fantasised about it for years.’
‘It might help you to move on,’ she said softly, ‘if you could look him in the eye and tell him what he did to you.’
‘He’d probably laugh in my face, but maybe that would be worth it to make him pay for what he did.’