Miss Darcy's Christmas

by Karen Aminadra

“Shall I fetch someone for you?” he pressed.

  Georgiana shook her head. “No, that will not be necessary. I think I should return to the drawing room and take some refreshment.” She made to walk around the back of the table.

  “Maybe you merely need a little bit of affection,” he responded, the huskiness returned to his voice.

  Georgiana shuffled a little further around the table. “I am quite all right, I assure you.”

  “Come, come! Do not be like that. We are lovers, after all!” He closed the gap between them with long strides.

  Georgiana was horrified. “We are most certainly not lovers, Lord Hugh.” Using his title made her feel a little better and confident of putting an invisible barrier between them.

  It appeared that he would not be dissuaded. He reached her side with one longer step and put his arm about her shoulder. “Oh, don’t be so cold, Georgiana. It is obvious to myself and others, I am certain, how deeply you have come to feel for me.”

  He pulled her into an embrace. Georgiana wanted to scream but her throat clamped shut and she could barely move out of fear.

  Lord Hugh pressed his advantage. “You and I will make a wonderful married couple, don’t you think?”

  No, I do not think! her mind screamed, her mouth still unable to utter a syllable.

  “It is a good match on both sides, you must admit.” He inched his head forward.

  Georgiana was paralysed with terror. All she could see was his mouth as he bent his head for a kiss. As she felt his alcohol-filled breath upon her face, something snapped and her body was free. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he tightened his grip, clamping her body to his. She could feel his arousal and the icy fingers of fear crept back in to claim her.

  She was powerless. Lord Hugh’s mouth was upon hers, wet, warm, and searching. She clamped her lips together, determined not to respond positively to his kiss.

  “Come on, Georgiana,” he muttered, pressing himself hard against her thigh. “Don’t be such a cold fish.” He continued kissing down to her neck. “I know we’re not married yet, but allow a fellow a little bit of pleasure, won’t you?”

  Georgiana’s eyes wide, she wriggled a little to free herself, but he took that as acquiescence.

  “That’s the spirit, my girl!”

  Suddenly, he seemed to be possessed of more hands than was natural. One of them grasped her breast. In a flash, Georgiana was filled with anger. She twisted so violently that they both fell into one of the dining chairs sending it crashing to the floor. “Unhand me, you brute!” she screamed at the top of her voice.

  What happened next was a blur. She heard the door open. She heard footsteps. Then she saw Richard grabbing Lord Hugh by the collar of his shirt and physically hoisting him off of her.

  She took in large deep gulps of air as tears streamed down her face. Relief came, replacing the trepidation and anger, leaving her trembling.

  “I believe it is time for you to go home, Lord Hugh,” Richard growled. “You’ve clearly had too much to drink.”

  “Not at all,” Lord Hugh replied with a chuckle, releasing himself from Richard’s grip and straightening his clothing. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

  Georgiana watched in silence, attempting to regain her composure.

  Lord Hugh continued speaking, his mouth curled in a smirk. “It is of little consequence to me if she will not favour me with a kiss. Soon we will be married and, as her husband, I will be entitled to as many kisses I should wish for.”

  Georgiana watched as the blood drained from Richard’s face.

  “Married?” his voice no louder than a whisper.

  “No!” Georgiana shook her head vehemently.

  “Oh, yes,” Lord Hugh countered arrogantly. “I have made up my mind, you see.” His eyes bored into Georgiana’s. “We shall be married.”

  The words hung heavily in the air as he stomped out of the room. He called to his sister. “Come on, Fran. It is time we departed.” The edge in his voice disappeared. “Lady Matlock, I thank you for your hospitality, but we must away.”

  While Lord Hugh and Lady Francesca prepared to leave, Georgiana and Richard stood immobile staring at each other, neither of them quite believing what they had just witnessed.

  Nineteen

  The events following Lord Hugh’s departure were a haze to Georgiana. She remembered saying good night to some of the guests and being teased by Aunt Henrietta about Lord Hugh and what the older woman termed Georgiana’s partiality. The only thing that stood out and was burned into her memory was Richard’s face and the look in his eyes when he walked in on her in Lord Hugh’s arms.

  She barely slept a wink that night. She paced up and down until she was too tired to continue, then wept into her pillow until dawn.

  She must have slept after that because she woke to the sound of Meg drawing the curtains and bringing her some tea. She rolled over as the maid greeted her. The last thing she wanted was for her to see her puffy eyes and ask uncomfortable questions. Thankfully, Meg took the grunt to mean her mistress wanted more sleep and left her alone.

  Georgiana decided to skip breakfast and stay in bed late. That night was the charity Christmas ball that Aunt Henrietta wanted to attend. She knew there was no getting out of it and that Lord Hugh would no doubt be there as well.

  As she drifted in and out of sleep, she thought of one hundred and one excuses to get out of going. She was fully aware that none of them would work. When her aunt was determined, there was no gainsaying her.

  Around noon, unaware that Meg had come in and out of the room repeatedly, Georgiana rose, dressed in the pale-yellow muslin Meg had laid out, and made her way downstairs to the drawing room.

  She was so tired. She knew there were bags under her eyes. As she opened the door to the drawing room, she braced herself for the onslaught of comments from her aunt.

  The room was empty.

  “Might I help you, Miss?”

  Georgiana jumped at Hobbs’ voice and spun around. “Where is everyone?”

  Hobbs replied in his slow, sedate way, “Colonel Fitzwilliam has taken Lady Matlock out in the carriage. I believe she needs some new gloves for this evening’s charity ball, Miss.”

  “Oh,” she deflated, relieved to not have to defend herself quite yet. “Did they say when they would be back?”

  “They did not.” When she continued to gaze at him expectantly, he added, “I expect they will be back in time for tea, Miss.”

  “Good. Thank you, Hobbs.” Georgiana turned around and surveyed the empty room, which no longer felt welcoming without its family.

  “Would you perhaps like something to eat, Miss?”

  Georgiana turned back, pleased Hobbs had not left her alone. “I would. Thank you.”

  “If you would make your way to the breakfast room, I shall have something hot prepared for you immediately.”

  Georgiana smiled for possibly the first time that day. She ambled her way through the house towards the breakfast room at the back, her mind securely fixated upon the goings-on of the previous night. She hesitated outside the door to the dining room, her mind taunting her with visions of the previous night.

  She waited patiently until the table was set and then sat down to eat. Her stomach growled as she laid eyes on the devilled eggs, toast, poached salmon, and pot of tea. The food was like honey on her lips and, tucking in, she discovered she was far more ravenous than she previously thought.

  As she ate, she stared out through the French doors into the garden, watching a few snowflakes drift to the ground. By the time she finished, there was a light dusting of snow covering everything. Part of her wished it was snowing so heavily they could not go out that night.

  As Georgina crossed the hallway heading to her uncle’s study, having decided to read until Richard and Aunt Henrietta returned, they arrived home.

  “Oh, my dear!” Aunt Henrietta declared as she burst through the doors. “I do not believe I have ever known London
to be this cold!” She made a commotion of taking off her coat, bonnet, removing her muff, and slipping from her outdoor shoes. “I bought you a little gift,” she grinned, signalling to the servant carrying the boxes to follow her into the drawing room.

  Georgiana trailed closely behind.

  “The shops are simply heaving with people,” Aunt Henrietta informed her, warming herself before the fire. “Everyone, it seems, had the silly idea to leave it until the last minute to go shopping for any items they need for tonight’s ball.” She shook her head in disbelief.

  “Surely not everyone is going to the same ball, Mama.” Richard strode into the room, poured his mother a glass of sherry, handed it to her, and returned to the drinks table. “Can I get you something?” he asked Georgiana without looking her in her direction.

  “No, thank you,” she replied.

  Her voice was so small, he clearly did not hear her. He poured another glass of sherry, along with a single finger of whiskey for himself, and brought it to her. Part of her was relieved when he did not sit down on the same settee but chose instead to be seated on the opposite side of the room.

  Aunt Henrietta was chatting away, but Georgiana heard nary a word. Her full attention was on Richard. They hadn’t talked since he burst in on her and Lord Hugh the night before. She wanted to defend herself, to explain to him that it was not what he thought. She chewed the inside of her cheek. I wonder what he does think was going on last night. The very thought that he was thinking ill of her churned her stomach, and she regretted eating lunch.

  “Kid gloves, Georgiana!”

  Georgiana snapped out of her reverie to see Aunt Henrietta waving a pair of gloves at her. Her grin told Georgiana they were meant for her. She leant forward and took them. They were the softest pair of kid leather she’d ever held in her hands. They were ivory with delicate pale blue stitching and leaf motif on the wrist. “How beautiful!” she exclaimed.

  “I knew the moment I saw them that they were perfect for you. Such pretty little stitching, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, I do. Thank you, Aunt.” Georgiana ran her fingers along the stitching. It was delicate work.

  “I think we should all meet down here for tea and crumpets an hour before we depart. What say you, Richard?” Aunt Henrietta asked while fiddling with the other boxes.

  “I think that is a splendid idea, Mama. There will likely be far more people than usual in the assembly rooms. I doubt very much we will be able to get in to eat anything, and the last thing I want is you overheated.” Richard watched his mother.

  Georgiana continued to observe him while feigning interest in her gloves. They were exquisite indeed, but her mind was occupied. She was racked with guilt and shame. She realised full well she had done nothing wrong, but all the same, she could not shake the sense of culpability.

  “Oh, absolutely!” Aunt Henrietta threw her hands up in the air. “As much as I enjoy a ball, there’s nothing worse than going to one with too many people in attendance.” She picked up another smaller box and brought it to Georgiana. “It’s a ticketed event, after all, so why they sell far too many tickets, I do not know.”

  “It is for charity. Perhaps that is the reason,” Richard replied diplomatically.

  “Well, it is most inconvenient,” Aunt Henrietta snapped back. She turned and addressed Georgiana. “This too is for you, my dear.”

  Georgiana was astonished at her aunt’s generosity. She placed her glass on the table before her and took the box in her hands. Prizing off the lid, Georgiana discovered an exquisite pearl headdress inside. “My goodness!” she gasped.

  “I thought you’d like it. Isn’t it beautiful?” Aunt Henrietta cooed.

  Georgiana’s eyes danced. “It’s so pretty.”

  Aunt Henrietta sat down beside her. “I bought us each a couple of new pairs of stockings as well,” she lowered her voice to a rasping whisper, “but we shan’t take those out of the box in front of Richard, shall we?”

  Georgiana reddened. “No.”

  Stretching out her hand, Aunt Henrietta fondled the pearl headdress as Georgiana admired it. “You can either wear it tonight or save it for a special occasion. Perhaps for your engagement party,” she chuckled with delight, her eyes glistening with amusement.

  Georgiana’s hot cheeks suddenly felt stone cold, as the blood drained from her face.

  “Come now, Georgiana!” Aunt Henrietta continued to chuckle. “Don’t be missish! You and Lord Hugh were alone last night. Don’t try to tell me there is no understanding between the pair of you.”

  Georgiana shook her head, her mouth falling open. “No, there isn’t, Aunt. I assure you.”

  “Nonsense!” Aunt Henrietta pursed her lips together and folded her arms across her chest. “I do not understand this fashion for secret engagements. It is clear there is a partiality on his side at least, and,” she twisted and leant her facing close to Georgiana’s, “unless my eyes have greatly deceived me, I also detect a partiality on your side.”

  Georgiana’s eyes darted, looking pleadingly to Richard, hoping that he would come to her defence while, deep inside, the voice of guilt and shame shouted louder that he would not.

  “There’s no point in denying it. You were alone together, and I would not allow that sort of comportment in my house if I did not suspect you were engaged,” Aunt Henrietta scolded.

  Tears welled in Georgiana’s eyes. I am not engaged to Lord Hugh and neither will I ever be.

  “Perhaps we should leave well alone, Mama. Unless Georgiana decides to divulge what happened between her and Lord Hugh last night, we have only conjecture on our side.” Richard did not even look at her.

  “Young people today!” Aunt Henrietta clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. “I do not know what they are about. Such silly dalliances all the time, fancying themselves in love hither and thither. In my day such silly foolhardiness would be a disgrace.” She rounded on Georgiana again. “You make up your mind, young miss. Either you are engaged to be married to Lord Hugh DeVere, or you are not.”

  Georgiana found her voice, her skin cold and clammy. “I am not.”

  Aunt Henrietta’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. “Then you will promise me that you will never speak to him alone and unchaperoned.”

  Georgiana nodded rapidly and swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. “I promise.”

  “Good. I will not have scandal in this house, do you hear?” She wagged a finger in her face.

  Aunt Henrietta rose, gathered up her boxes, and stormed out of the room. With trembling fingers Georgiana picked up the sherry glass and drank all of it in one go. When she finally found the courage to look up again, she discovered Richard watching her.

  “Was that the truth?” His voice had a bitter edge to it.

  Georgiana’s eyes welled. “Yes,” she replied, scarcely louder than a whisper.

  Richard huffed. He gulped back his whiskey and slammed the glass on the ornate walnut inlaid table. “His hands were all over you,” he growled, his voice scaring her.

  Her heart constricted, and she screwed up her face in hurt. “It was not at my bidding,” she replied as the tears spilled out of her eyes, down her cheeks, and landed on her dress.

  Richard’s expression softened. “Forgive me.”

  Twenty

  Richard awaited the ladies in the drawing room, resisting the urge to smoke a cigar. The smell of the smoke on his clothes would not make him a pleasant dancing partner. His intention was to keep Georgiana within his sight all night long if need be.

  Something about her tears and countenance earlier told him she was telling the truth and hurting deeply. It wasn’t a long leap of logic to know that the blame would lie entirely at Lord Hugh’s feet.

  When she descended the stairs, dressed in the most beautiful ivory silk gown, her head adorned with the pearl headdress his mother had gifted her, Georgiana took his breath away. The smile she wore as their eyes connected was for him and him alone. His heart swelled in hi
s chest. Every day confirmed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was falling in love with his cousin. He had no idea what Fitzwilliam Darcy would say, or his mother for that matter. But, in the first flush of love, he cared not what anyone said, apart from Georgiana herself.

  He held out his hand and sighed gently as she took it. “You look stunningly beautiful this evening.”

  She repaid his compliment by blushing a deep crimson. “Thank you, Richard.” She pointed to her expertly coiffed hair. “I am wearing the headdress, you see?”

  “Indeed, I did see. It looks well on you. My mother was right. It is a perfect adornment for your silken curls.”

  Not far behind her, his mother appeared at the top of the stairs, and once he had greeted and kissed her on the cheek, the party of three departed for the charity Christmas ball.

  The night was bitterly cold, and their carriage contained two heated bricks to stave off the chill, though it was not enough to prevent their breath fogging up the interior as they rode along. Concerned that the two women would be warm enough, Richard quickly surveyed their attire. Satisfied that the thick fur cloaks they wore were sufficient for the journey, he relaxed a little. Gazing out of the window, the stars twinkled back at him. “It looks like there will be a hard frost tonight.”

  “It is good, then, that we shall be going from carriage to assembly room and back to the carriage again,” his mother replied, snuggling up a little closer to Georgiana.

  “A little dancing will warm us up, I daresay,” Georgiana added.

  “Unfortunately, I am not in a mind to dance,” the older woman replied. “I believe my dancing days are long gone.”

  Richard smiled lovingly at his mother. “Do not say such things, Mother. You are not yet past it, as they say. If you had a mind to dance, you would cut a fine jig.”

  “Oh, fie!” Lady Matlock flapped her hand at her son.

  Chuckling, Richard replied, “I remember you used to be one of the finest dancers I’ve ever seen, Mama.”

  She made a noise that sounded like a cross between shh and pff.