by Dayna Quince
“But you love him. How could he leave you if you love him?” Opal asked.
“I—I didn’t tell him,” Georgie stuttered.
Franklin blinked his one eye. “If you don’t tell him, he can’t change his mind.”
“He’s not going to change his mind,” Georgie said and choked down her emotions. “We both were clear about what we wanted.”
“He certainly can’t without knowing the facts,” Franklin replied. “You changed your mind. You love him and you want to marry him. He may change his but not if he doesn’t know there is a choice to be made.”
Georgie shook her head. “I can’t. I…I’m not the kind of wife he needs. I can’t leave my family. What of you? Who will take care of you?”
“You’ll take us with you!” Kit said excitedly, hanging on the hem of her skirt. Georgie scooped him up. “But Northumberland is my home and your home.”
“Soon we’ll be healed and go back to our own homes,” Opal said. “You’ve done a great job taking care of us. But we can’t stay with you. We don’t belong here. I will have a family of my own someday. Don’t you want that too? You’re so good at caring for us, wouldn’t you love to care for your own child?”
Georgie nuzzled Kit and wiped a tear from her eye. She would love a child of her own. She’d cared for his sisters and now these animals, but they didn’t fill the same need. A baby to hold, to rock to sleep, to love. But those were just dreams again, hopes she’d pushed deep for a long time now. “I won’t fit in anywhere else. I’ll embarrass him and make a fool of myself.”
Franklin flapped his wings. “You will adapt just as you have all these years. You’ve a good head on your shoulders. But if you let him go without at least stating your feelings, you will regret it and never know the future that could be.”
A tear slipped down Georgie’s cheek. “I’m afraid.”
“But you are also brave,” Franklin said.
When Georgie woke, she felt the urgent need to see her patients, throwing her cloak over her nightgown and running to the stables. But—as she fully expected—they were just their animal selves again with no wise words to share. Gavin was not there in the stables, taking his usual ride. Georgie quickly tended her patients and returned to her room, feeling lost.
Could she really tell him how she felt? Would that change anything?
She went down to breakfast and poked at her food while her mind whirled, keeping part of her attention on the door.
Gavin never came down to breakfast.
Her stomach sank and time passed. She wondered if he was avoiding her and why. Had she hurt him so much that he’d gone?
Did he care more for her than she’d realized?
She reviewed their time together, painful though it was to recall those sweet memories, their first kiss, the first time they went riding together and had a real conversation. They’d even argued, but he hadn’t been driven away.
Until now.
She hated that she was so inexperienced in this. She had no information to draw on to help her form conclusions. The more she told herself that it had meant nothing more than an affair and that his business came first, the worse she felt. She couldn’t keep her composure. By midday, there was nothing for her to do but hide. The party had grown subdued after the chaos of yesterday morning and Bernie’s disappearance. Georgie went to the stables even though her patients were doing quite well and didn’t need her attention.
But she needed the solitude.
She popped into the tack room and greeted her animals. Then she sat, hands in her lap, and just stared through the crack in the tack room door at the passing stable lads running back and forth, carrying saddles and what not. Another form filled her vision, this one dressed in fine clothing, gray breeches, and a navy coat.
Her heart leapt, but when the door opened, it was not Gavin.
Lord Luckfeld examined the tack room, eyeing the cages and supplies before his focus settled on her.
“I know I’m not who you’re hoping for. Tuck that pouty lip away, will you?”
Georgie sucked in her lip and folded her arms. “What purpose do you have for coming here?”
“I have a message.”
“Oh?” Her heart leapt again, racing like the wind.
“Gavin left at first light. He received an urgent message and had to go to Newcastle.”
Her heart plummeted. “For his business.”
Luckfeld nodded. “He will return.”
Georgie glanced away. “Thank you for telling me.”
He glanced back, stepped farther into the tack room, and then squatted before her.
“He isn’t like himself, you know. He’s changed since arriving here and I think he cares for you a great deal.”
Georgie fisted her hands in her skirts. “We’re friends.”
“I’ve been his friend for a very long time. He doesn’t feel for me what he feels for you.”
Georgie focused on the ground. She couldn’t look at him without her emotions overflowing.
“I’m not sure what I’m meant to do with that information.”
He stood. “Christ, you’re as bad as he is, you know that? You two are meant for each other. Don’t push him away. It is that simple.”
“I haven’t—” She sucked in a breath. She had. She’d run away from him and everything that scared her.
“If he…declares his wish to advance your relationship, trust that he has given it great thought. He takes nothing lightly, least of all you. Don’t belittle his feelings. They are not expressed easily.”
Georgie nodded, wanting him to be done and leave her alone to wallow in her own self-inflicted misery. “Thank you for the message.”
“You are welcome,” he said and then left her.
Georgie hugged herself but she did not cry. She squeezed her fists, a bubble of hope growing inside her, light and shimmery. She could not tamp it down. She tried to resist it, but still it bloomed into wild joy. She covered her face, and when she looked up, Opal and Franklin stared back at her. Was she losing her mind? Or was this madness the result of losing one’s heart?
She loved him and she wanted his love in return. Is that what Lord Luckfeld had been hinting at? He thought Gavin was in love with her?
“Don’t belittle his feelings.”
The bubble burst inside her and a torrent of warmth flooded her, as if all her hopes and dreams had been released, a tonic for her broken heart, a medicine to relieve her aching head.
She could continue to fight or… She could confess her feelings.
She stood, her heart racing but resolve steadying her hands as she left the tack room. She paused at the door and looked back. Franklin ruffled his feathers and softly hooted.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Chapter 22
Gavin rode into Newcastle by midmorning the following day, his back aching from a night spent on a lumpy mattress in a small inn. He hoped he wasn’t carrying lice or any other pests on his person.
He instantly thought of Georgie and her little stow away in her bodice.
He chuckled, but his laughter swiftly gave way to a jab of pain. All his life he’d had a way with women. He’d credit his mother for that. As a boy she’d spoken to him frequently about her feelings, about her emotional needs that were not being met by his father, and most of what Gavin learned was that women wanted to be listened to. But hearing what was said was a different matter. A woman and man’s mind varied in both subtle and drastic ways, like two riders with the same destination but choosing different routes. His father had been on one course, his mother another.
As Gavin had grown older, he’d realized his mother had sacrificed what she’d wanted to be with his father, hoping their destination was the same, but it wasn’t. His mother wanted a partner in life and family. His father’s only goal was to produce a child.
Their two paths were never going to cross and so his mother was unhappy.
If he could convince Georgie to marry him, ho
w would he make her happy?
That question eluded him thus far. He’d thought long and hard during his hours on horseback, yet he still had no answer. He didn’t know how to join their paths.
She’d said she didn’t want to marry, that she wanted to be free to live her life as she pleased. But she also didn’t want to be left alone. She wanted to be close to her family, and he couldn’t imagine she’d easily give up her passion, caring for animals. He couldn’t ask her to do that. It was part of who she was, an integral part of what made her so extraordinary.
So how could he prove they could be together?
The solution did not come to him by the time he reined in before the building near his forge being built, a worker coming to assist his horse.
“Welcome, sir.”
“Thank you, Reginald. I came as quickly as I could. Is Mr. Lake here?”
“Yes, sir. He arrived yesterday with his family.”
Gavin nodded and dismounted. He climbed the stairs to an office above a tea shop, pausing to wipe his face of sweat and dust with a handkerchief. He opened the door and Mr. Lake looked up from the desk.
“Mr. Cage, I’m sorry to have summoned you from your leisure time.”
“Not to worry. Tell me what problem is so urgent?”
“Mr. Travis had to leave. He’s tendered his resignation as foreman of the forge sight. We can’t continue until we have a new foreman.”
Gavin cursed. “He was the most experienced we could find for this job.” He wished Mr. Lake could have just found a new foreman already, and he wouldn’t have had to come all this way.
“I know.” Mr. Lake stood. “I’ve considered some choices but given how dedicated you are to seeing this forge come to completion, I knew you would prefer to select the new foreman yourself. The only solution I could find is to take his place, if you will consider it.”
Gavin frowned. “There is no plausible way you can be foreman of the forge and manage the four manufactories.”
“I know, sir.” Mr. Lake shifted on his feet.
Gavin’s gut tightened in warning. Mr. Lake appeared nervous. How much more could go wrong? Gavin had planned to tend to this urgent matter as swiftly as possible and get back to the castle before the ball. That meant leaving by tomorrow morning. He needed to get back to Georgie.
“I’d…leave my position at the manufactories.”
Gavin bit back a curse. “You’ve given this some thought, I can tell. Go on.”
Mr. Lake wiped his brow, his black hair sticking to his forehead.
Gavin loosened his cravat. The small space had grown stuffy in the relentless midday sun, even for a coastal city such as Newcastle.
Mr. Lake was integral to his success, a genius in efficiency and engineering better practices to speed production, saving Gavin money and increasing revenue. He’d been a godsend in turning Gavin’s dream of the largest forge in England into a reality.
Lake held his hat in his hands. “You see, I—”
A knock interrupted.
Gavin sighed. “Enter.”
A young woman with curly black hair entered, holding a tiny baby.
“Sir, I present my wife and my son.”
Gavin blinked. Lake was married? Since when? He’d never met any of his employees’ families, and it suddenly seemed absurd that he never considered their lives outside of work. He shook himself out of his daze.
“Good day, Mrs. Lake. My congratulations on the birth of your child,” he said to both of them. Did they not talk at all except about the forge? He didn’t want to rudely stare, but he was mesmerized by the little bundle in her arms. One little hand waved about, a perfect tiny fist rolled tight with little grunts coming from within the blanket.
Mrs. Lake cooed and bounced the baby gently. “I’m sorry to intrude.”
“’Tis no bother,” Gavin said.
His skin prickled, his hairs standing on end. He tore his gaze away but in his mind an image of Georgie formed, holding an infant, murmuring soft words and rocking the baby. He swallowed. She would be an excellent mother and he… What kind of father would he be? Absent? Like his had been? He peeked at the little baby again. How much of that child’s life would Lake miss if he was foreman of the forge? As far as Gavin knew, he lived in London where the manufactories were located, or at least he thought. He’d been traveling back and forth between Newcastle and London quite a bit on Gavin’s orders. And all that time, he’d had a wife and new child waiting on him.
Guilt wracked him. Not that he’d forced Lake to do these things, but he’d certainly never left him any option.
“I’ll be down in a moment,” Mr. Lake said. He shared a glance with his wife.
Ah, so they were both worried about something.
Gavin could only surmise it had something to do with the job, or money, or both. He’d seen his father fire many men for not being dedicated enough or asking for a raise. Everyone was expected to work as hard or more than his father did. And families and children were never allowed near the manufactories.
“I’ll wait in the tea shop where it’s cooler,” she replied.
“I promise we won’t be long,” Gavin said with a reassuring smile. She smiled in return but it didn’t meet her eyes.
Gavin inwardly frowned. Did she not like him? But then again, why would she? By most accounts, he was just like his father.
Except he wasn’t, Gavin reminded himself.
And he never wanted to be.
Mrs. Lake closed the door and the men faced each other. The silence tense.
“I’d hate for you to keep your wife waiting. What is it I can do for you?” Gavin asked.
Mr. Lake cleared his throat. “Well, it’s become clear that the needs of my family requires me to be home more, but also, London is not where I imagined raising my children.”
Gavin nodded though he really had no idea. Why wouldn’t anyone want to raise children in London? He supposed the sooty air and dirty streets had something to do with it.
Gavin had never pictured himself with a child, but the image of Georgie still stuck in his head and that could only mean it was his child she carried in his vision. A warm sensation spread through his chest. He was coming to recognize this was the feeling of love he’d never experienced before. A warm, bright sensation like sunlight.
“What’s it like?” he asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
Gavin tried to gather his thoughts. “Holding your child, I mean. What’s it like?”
Mr. Lake raised his brows. “Its…magnificent.”
Gavin waited for him to continue, his ability to speak deserting him. Magnificent?
“I’ve never felt anything like it, not even when I married my wife, though it was close. Sheer happiness, I’d say, mixed with crippling fear.”
A laugh burst from Gavin. “Truly? Crippling fear?”
Mr. Lake smiled and nodded. “He’s so tiny I feel like I’ll drop him. But then he screams like the devil when he’s hungry. How can so much sound come from such a little body?”
Gavin grunted in agreement. And then he had the strangest urge. He wanted to hold Lake’s baby. If only just to know what it would feel like to cradle a human so tiny. But he would never ask.
“You are a lucky man, Mr. Lake.”
“Yes, I am.” He glanced away, smiling with such joy that envy pierced Gavin’s heart.
Gavin had nothing that made him that happy.
But he could. In his mind, dawn finally broke and the light filled him. He could see clearly now. What he was missing all his life was a family. Georgie was the key to that family. The only woman he could see himself filling the hours of the day with and spending the rest of his nights with.
“What is it you need, Mr. Lake?”
Mr. Lake tugged at his neckerchief, his cheekbones flexing in relief.
Gavin hated that the man was so nervous. Had he been such a ruthless employer?
“Well, I need to provide for my family and care for them in
a manner they deserve. I’d like to take Travis’ position, but I’d need to maintain my present wage.”
Gavin focused on the man. “You want to be the new foreman?”
“I do.”
“But what of the manufactories? I’d have to hire four people to replace you.”
“I’m sorry, sir. But I have to think of my family. Newcastle is better for raising a family, and we both have relatives close by.”
Gavin rubbed his jaw, his mind working through the logistics. His father would have fired Lake on the spot. They both knew that.
I’m not my father. I’m not my father.
Lake must know that, right?
Gavin knew it, even before falling in love with Georgie. He was not his father and that meant he didn’t need to follow the same path. He rubbed his chest. Was it possible to die from love? His ribs ached, the ceaseless bounding of his heart every time he thought the word troubling. How long could a body endure such a strong emotion?
He focused on Lake. He had to clear his throat before speaking. “Whatever you need. Just name it.”
“Sir?”
“But I don’t think foreman is suitable for you.”
Lake blinked. “What?”
Gavin rubbed his chin again, numbers and calculations filling his head for the cost of each new individual, but more than that, the time. “I can’t lose you, but I don’t want to work you to death. You have a lot to live for now. Your wife and son need you more than I do.”
He wanted to give everyone more time. For himself, for Lake, and any man in his employ who desires a wife and family. They all needed more time.
“You will still be manager and hire a foreman. In fact, before you move from London, I’ll need you to hire four assistant managers for each manufactories to replace you and report to you.”
Mr. Lake blinked at Gavin like he’d lost his head. Maybe he had, but with every idea he felt lighter and lighter. A weight was lifting, or maybe something in him was at last shifting into the right place.
“Now that I think about it, four manufactories may be too much. Mr. Westridge had offered me a decent sum to buy the textile manufactory. At the time, I wasn’t interested but now… The other three plus the forge are enough to support my ideas, don’t you think? With this new forge we can focus on metals, buttons, buckles, knobs, anything you can think of we will be able to mold.”