“But then again, I’ve seen men trip over their own feet or fall upstairs and sustain horrendous head injuries.”
Georgiana pulled a face at him. “Really!”
Richard snorted. “Honestly, I believe you should rest a little, and I shall keep my eyes firmly fixed on you.” He touched the end of her nose.
Georgiana wrinkled said nose and felt the heat rising in her cheeks.
“If you feel the slightest bit dizzy or nauseated, you tell me instantly. Understand?” he said, suddenly serious.
“I understand,” she replied, “and I will.”
“Or if your vision suddenly gets blurry,” Aunt Henrietta added.
Georgiana settled her head into the plump cushion. “I promise, Aunt.”
“There is, of course, one positive side to all of this,” Richard quipped.
“Oh?” Georgiana asked, her interest piqued.
Richard laughed, his expression one of delight. “Well, as far as I see it, I will now be at the mercy of your every whim.”
Georgiana looked deep into his eyes, and she caught the flash of passion that flamed within them. “You mean tea and scones?” she asked innocently, whilst knowing her cheeks burned unashamedly.
Richard coughed and cleared his throat. He twisted his head so that only Georgiana could see his wide-eyed expression. “Of course I meant tea and scones. What else?” He winked, his eyes shone with pure mischief.
Georgiana’s stomach somersaulted, and she felt a wave of nausea, but not from her fall, purely out of nerves. Richard is flirting with me! she thought, her pulse thudding in her ears. And in front of his mother!
“Well, then,” Richard slapped his knees, “I’d better ring the bell and fetch madame some tea and scones.”
While they waited for refreshments to arrive, Aunt Henrietta watched her niece like a hawk. “Such a pity!” she lamented. “I suppose this means you will not be able to accompany me to church tonight.”
Richard spoke for her. “Mama, I believe it is not a good idea for Georgiana to go anywhere this evening. She needs to rest.”
“If I have a little nap, I might feel up to it,” Georgiana added feebly.
“Nonsense!” Aunt Henrietta snapped. “I will not have it. Do you remember what I said to you when you went out into the garden?” She did not give Georgiana time to respond. “I said I would not know what to say to your brother if you took a tumble and broke your ankle.” Her voice broke with emotion, and she covered her hand with her mouth. “And now look what has happened.”
Immediately Richard was at her side. He perched on the arm of the armchair and placed his arm about her shoulder. “Mama, do not distress yourself unduly. Thus far, Georgiana is well. She just needs a little rest.”
Georgiana watched on, her eyes now heavy with sleep.
“There is no reason why you should not attend midnight Mass now, is there?”
“No, I suppose not.”
Aunt Henrietta’s reply to Richard was the last thing Georgiana heard before she drifted off to sleep.
Thirty
Georgiana awoke much later, covered in blankets, to a room lit by candles. “How long was I asleep?” she asked.
Richard, who had remained vigilant by her side, smiled warmly at her. “Long enough for your tea to go cold,” his smile turned cheeky, “and for me to eat all the scones myself.”
Georgiana laughed. “You did no such thing,” she said, easing herself up onto her elbow.
“No, I didn’t. I saved you one,” he replied, pointing to a plate covered with a dome.
“Oh, lovely,” Georgiana said, swinging her legs around and sitting up.
Richard passed her the scone and rang the bell again. “Better get you that tea now.”
“Where’s your mother?” she asked.
Richard picked up the poker and prodded the fire, sending sparks shooting up the chimney. “She’s getting ready for the church service.”
“Is it that late already?” she gasped, glancing at the clock. Sure enough, it was almost eleven o’clock. “Is she going alone?” Georgiana asked with the scone halfway to her mouth.
“The servants will all be attending.”
“Oh.” Georgiana hadn’t thought about that. At Pemberley, it was usual for the family to travel to the little church by carriage while the servants went on foot.
“She won’t be alone, so don’t worry.” Richard returned to sitting on the end of the settee. “It’ll just be you and I this evening.”
Alone? The prospect filled Georgiana with both shock and excitement. She sat bolt upright, a thought occurring to her. “I missed dinner.”
Richard burst out laughing. “I tell you that you and I will be alone in the house this evening and all you can say is, ‘I missed dinner.””
Georgiana realised what she said and got an attack of the giggles.
“Can I surmise that you are feeling well?” Richard enquired.
Georgiana nodded, composing herself. “Yes, I am.” She cocked her head to the side. “But I’m ever so hungry.”
That set Richard off again in a fit of laughter that did not stop until Hobbs arrived.
“You rang, sir.”
“Yes,” Richard replied, forcing his face to straighten. “Miss Darcy has not eaten and would like some dinner.”
Hobbs inclined his head. “Of course, sir. We set aside a plate of food. It’s keeping warm in the kitchen.”
“Very good.”
“Can I bring you both anything else?” Hobbs asked. “It’s only…we are all heading off to church shortly.”
Richard was immediately on his feet. “Right you are. If you would kindly bring Miss Darcy her dinner and us both a fresh pot of tea, that would be wonderful. And,” Richard looked around the room, rubbing his hands together, “I think that will be all for tonight. Have a wonderful time.”
“Very good, sir. Thank you.” Hobbs bowed and turned to leave.
“Oh, and, Hobbs, if I do not see you again tonight, I wish you a very happy Christmas.”
Georgiana polished off the last of the scone and watched Hobbs turn back to Richard, a smile brightening up his aged face.
“Why, thank you, sir. And a very happy Christmas to you too.”
* * *
As Georgiana sat on the settee, a plate on her lap, Richard watched her eat. That afternoon he had awoken and spied her from his bedroom window. He dressed hurriedly and watched her as she cut holly. He could not keep his eyes off her. He was terrified when she turned back towards the house, slipped on the ice, and tumbled to the ground. His heart was in his mouth as he raced out of his room, down the stairs, and out the back to the garden. He didn’t think twice. In an instant, he scooped her up into his arms and, amazed at how little she weighed, he carried her into the drawing room, before placing her gently onto the settee.
His throat was constricted, and he could barely speak. His dear, beloved Georgiana had hit her head, although it soon became apparent that her injuries, if there were any at all, were not grave. She shrugged off all their concerns for her health. Nevertheless, Richard insisted she not accompany his mother to church that evening and rest instead. Despite his honest concern over her safety, Richard had an ulterior motive. He relished the thought of spending an evening entirely alone with Georgiana.
He fought the desire to hold her in his arms and shower her face with kisses. He had not declared himself, and he certainly did not know if she reciprocated his feelings.
She fell asleep, and he watched the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, not wanting to miss anything in case her breathing faltered and she took a turn for the worse. He struggled against the desire to send for the doctor. He knew better than that. She showed no signs of being seriously injured, and an army doctor had once told him the best remedy for someone who had hit their head was to get plenty of rest.
Now he sat not two feet away from her, watching as she devoured her dinner. “Slow down or you’ll give yourself indigestion,” he
warned.
Georgiana nodded. “I’m so famished.”
He reclined and watched her until she was finished; then he put the plate back on the tray. “I’ll take this back down to the kitchens, shall I?” he asked.
Georgiana stole a glimpse at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Everyone will have departed by now, won’t they?”
“I think I can hear Mama in the hallway now. I’ll let her know that you are well. Is there anything else you want from the kitchens?” He gave her a crooked smile. “Any more cakes or scones or the like?”
Georgiana giggled.
“I’ll see what I can find.” Richard left the drawing room and found his mother, as he suspected, in the hallway. “Mama,” he greeted her, kissing her on the cheek.
“Did she eat?” His mother asked, her eyes on the tray in his hands as she tied the bonnet under her chin.
“She did indeed. I believe she is well.”
“Thank the Lord!” She raised her eyes heavenward.
“Are you off now?” Richard asked.
“Yes,” she replied, placing a hand on his arm. “Will you both be all right here alone?”
“Mama, you will be absent for no more than two hours, I am certain.” He kissed her on the cheek again. “Now, go to church. I shall take good care of Georgiana. You can speak with your friends after the service and explain why we had to cancel our little pre-Mass soirée this evening.”
Lady Matlock smiled indulgently at her son. “You always think of everything, don’t you?”
Richard laughed.
“Well, I shall see you in the morning.” She turned towards the door and departed with Hobbs as her escort.
Richard scuttled off down into the kitchens as quickly as he could. He wanted to get back to the woman he loved. He placed the tray down beside the kitchen sink and turned around, surveying the cavernous space, still hot from the activity of cooking dinner. On top of a cabinet on the other side of the room, Richard spied three cake tins. Hastily he crossed the room and open the first one. Inside he found a stash of Cook’s famous mince pies. He removed two, replaced the lid, and made his way back upstairs.
He found Georgiana untying her bootlaces. He could have kicked himself. He did not even think that she was wearing boots, and he ought to have removed them for her.
Richard placed the mince pies on the table in front of the settee and was instantly on his knees before her. “Here, let me,” he said, taking her boot in one hand and untying the lace with the other.
He slipped off her boot and heard her sharp intake of breath as he placed his warm hands around her ankle. His eyes found hers, and he was not oblivious to her deep breathing, nor with it the rise and fall of her breasts.
Without taking his eyes off hers, he untied and removed the other boot. His heart pounded, and the fire of desire engulfed him. Now is the time, he told himself. Now is the time to tell her how much I love her. “Georgiana…”
Thirty-One
Georgiana’s breath came hard and fast. Richard had removed her boots and was now kneeling before her with his hands on her ankles. Never before had she felt such an intense thrumming of longing throughout her body. She could not have looked away from his warm brown eyes if she tried.
She had glimpsed an instant of the same sensation when they had danced so closely together in that very same room. She felt his arousal then as they moved the bodies against each other, and she suspected from the quickening of his breath now that he felt the same now.
Her heart leapt as he spoke her name. “Georgiana…”
She gasped, sensing what was to come.
“Georgiana,” he restarted, “for some time now I have been meaning to speak with you.” Richard briefly closed his eyes and she willed him to continue speaking. “I think…I believe…you can be in no doubt of my feelings for you, I believe.”
Her stomach lurched, and she wished she hadn’t eaten quite so much dinner. “Richard…I…”
“I think you have known it ever since we danced together.”
“Yes,” she replied, suddenly uncomfortable, agitated, and unable to sit still. She slipped sideways and stood up, rushing behind the settee.
“What is it?” Richard asked, coming to his feet.
“I…” Georgiana could not articulate what she felt. She stared at him, desperately hoping that he could read her mind.
She watched as Richard took a deep breath.
“When I arrived here from the continent, I was taken aback by how much you have grown and matured in the time since we last saw each other. I left a nervous and shy young girl and came back to find a beautiful, accomplished, and confident young woman.”
Georgiana clutched her hands to her chest as her heart swelled at his words.
“I have loved every minute spent with you, Georgiana. You have shown me that young ladies in society do not have to be conceited, arrogant, and haughty. You are none of those things.” Richard hesitated. “Your concern for my mother’s well-being over the running of the household,” he outstretched his arm and pointed towards the street, “and last night in the carriage when you spoke about Margaret Ainsworth,” he closed his eyes and took a deep, ragged breath. “You touch my heart so deeply.”
“I had no idea,” Georgiana muttered.
“That’s just it, isn’t it?” Richard stepped forward. “You didn’t do it intentionally. You spoke directly from the bottom of your own kind, compassionate heart. You came up with a solution that will save the family their blushes and allow them to be independent. I am proud of you, Georgiana.”
She shuffled her feet nervously on the carpet rug.
“I doubt very much that you are aware of this, but so many women in society would have disregarded Margaret Ainsworth as beneath their contempt. It is quite possible they would have blamed her for being in the predicament she now finds herself in.”
“What? That’s despicable!” She screwed her face up at the thought.
Richard smiled tenderly. “And that is precisely what I’m saying. Your heart is untouched by coldness and cynicism. You are a wonderful woman, Georgiana Darcy.”
All this flattery was almost more than Georgiana could bear. Her face blazed. “Please stop.”
Richard took another step around the sofa and towards her, shaking his head. “No. I promise I will never stop telling you how wonderful you are because it is true.”
“I only suggested what a decent human being would. What has happened to that young lady is contemptible. Lord Hugh ought to be called to account.”
“But he won’t be,” Richard replied sadly, he held on to the back of the settee.
Georgiana thought of that young girl, now a mother and without a husband, possibly forever. Her eyes stung with tears.
“But now she has a chance of a new life.” Richard stepped forward again. “She has reinvented herself as the widow Mrs Murray, and I can assure you that Alex and I will do everything we can in our power to ensure that Mrs Murray does not ever get found out. We will concoct a friendship with the late Mr Murray if needs be.”
“Thank you,” Georgiana replied, as a tear slipped down her cheek.
“She has a new chance of happiness. Some man may be willing to take on a widow.”
Georgiana swallowed hard, unable to speak and knowing he told the truth.
Richard changed the subject. “I cannot tell you how relieved I am that you will not marry that bore of a man.”
She sniffed, the tears drying up. “Not half as relieved as I am.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand.
Richard reduced the gap between them to only a foot. “Over the last couple of weeks, you have touched my heart so deeply that I am undone.”
Finally, Georgiana looked up into his eyes, knowing she would be spellbound by them. “Undone?” she whispered.
“Utterly and completely,” he whispered back.
She inhaled judderingly. “I…”
“Yes?” Richard inched forward.
“I
don’t know what to say.”
He reached out and took hold of her hands. Georgiana thought her legs would fail her.
“Then let me say it for you,” he said, hugging her hands to his chest. “I love you Georgiana Anne Darcy. I love you with all of my heart.”
Georgiana could not believe her ears. She barely heard him above the pounding of her heart. Without her realising it, he eliminated the space between them, pressing his body against hers. She did not flinch, recoil, or step back. She welcomed the feel of his hard, muscular body and returned the pressure in equal measure.
“And if I am not very much mistaken,” he muttered, his lips closing in on hers, “you feel the same way about me.”
Georgiana’s breath caught in her throat as she attempted to reply. “Richard, I…” she breathed.
He smiled and brushed his lips across hers, causing that delicious bolt of lightning to shoot through her body once again. She closed her eyes and gave in to the sensation of his lips teasing hers.
“What were you going to say?” he asked, his hot breath adding to the heat rising within her.
“I love you too,” she murmured.
As soon as the words were out, he claimed her mouth with his own. She felt lightheaded, but he surrounded her with his arms and held her tight against him. She slipped her arms around his neck and all the world vanished. The only things that existed for her were Richard, his kisses and touch. She felt the passion and urgency in his kisses rise just as quickly as they did in her.
When he pulled away, she felt the loss of his lips keenly.
“Say it again,” he panted, his eyes fixed on her bruised mouth.
“I love you,” she replied breathlessly.
Richard laughed, picked her up, and spun her around. “Again,” he demanded.
“I love you, Richard Henry Fitzwilliam,” she giggled, his felicity contagious.
He set her back on her feet. “I love you too, my dearest, precious Georgiana.”
Nothing in the world could have made her happier than she was at that moment, until Richard slipped down onto one knee.
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