He reached out his free hand and laid it on hers, just that. Georgie found herself momentarily speechless. Not from Adam’s admission. From his instinctive gesture of comfort. Her skin seemed to glow, not only where his hand covered it, but all over, down to her very toes. She realized, suddenly, that she wanted to be back in his arms. She wanted to feel his heat and strength and calm. Oh, Lord. Her life was getting complicated again. What was worse, she could almost feel Jamie smile at her reaction to his favorite cousin.
She had no time for this.
Instinctively setting the brandy down, she got to her feet. She needed to move. She needed….
“Come to London with me,” he said, standing in one place as she paced. “We can protect her there.”
She scowled at him. “Better than those villagers and the staff here? I don’t believe so. In fact I know so. Any more strangers will be noted and stopped. How do you spot a stranger in London?”
“So you’re going to just hide here and hope for the best?”
“Yes...” she stopped suddenly, closed her eyes. The brandy was flooding her with warmth. It was also slowing the frantic pace of her brain. “No.” She wanted to weep again. “If he thinks I am trying to ignore him, he will think he has the upper hand. He’ll simply try again. He kept trying to take Jamie until Jack returned home and threatened him.”
“Take Jamie?” Adam echoed. “Good heavens, you have been busy. I suspect the Peninsula was quieter the last few years.”
She allowed him a smile. “I certainly could have used some artillery.”
She made it back to her chair and sank into it, the brandy forgotten.
“Oh, God,” she said, hearing how hollow her own voice was. “I have to confront him.”
Adam sat across from her. “You aren’t doing it alone anymore. You aren’t powerless.”
She scowled. “He is a marquess.”
Adam grinned. “And I am a duke. Let me help. I might as well get some enjoyment out of this benighted title.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Not all strawberry leaves and groveling servants, I take it?”
His scowl grew. “The last duke was a financial idiot. It’s not that he was poor. But his finances are in such a muddle it will take years to figure them out.”
Georgie waved her glass at him. “Bring them here. I have an odd talent for that kind of thing.”
“I have a better idea. Come with me.”
She didn’t even bother to shake her head. The tears were building again. She had no other choice. She had to travel to the Abbey and confront her father. And when she did, it would provoke the final break not only between them, but between him and her brother, and she didn’t want that. She simply wanted to be left alone with her little girl here where she was finally settled.
And yet, if she didn’t act, her father would simply try again. He would send her baby to an institution for the insane.
Down went the brandy again. Up went Georgie. “He couldn’t. He simply couldn’t.”
She caught Adam just as he was grabbing for his cane. “Stop. If you try and rise every time I do you’ll be crippled for life. I move about when I’m distracted. You bear no responsibility for keeping me company.”
He got to his feet anyway. “But I want to.”
She tilted her head. “Why?”
His smile was a rueful thing of beauty, and Georgie couldn’t look away.
“We are in this together, Georgie,” he said, reclaiming her hand. “I cannot in all good conscience abandon Lully until her inheritance is safely secured and her people cared for. I will not abandon you while your father persists in this medieval behavior of his.”
There it was again, she thought, the tears curdling back into pain. She had to tell him. Certainly before her father did.
“Adam...”
“In fact, I have an idea how I can not only help you, but you can help me,” he said, reaching out to stroke his fingers along her cheek. He so distracted her that she almost didn’t hear what came next.
“Marry me.”
She knew she should say something. She knew he’d said something important. She couldn’t seem to get past the look of surprise in his water blue eyes.
Suddenly his words sank in. Her heart stumbled around like a drunk lord.
“Did you really mean to say that?” she found herself asking.
His grin was bright. “Actually, yes.” Reaching down, he claimed her other hand as well. “Think of it. I could protect Lully even when I’m not close by. My title alone will guard her. And you. After all, who is going to question a duke about his daughter? Who better to represent her than a man of the same status? There aren’t a lot of us out there, you know. As we have already established, I outrank your father.”
The pain swamped her, the shame. The futility. He had no idea that he was holding her up when she felt his words would shatter her.
“What a lovely offer to make,” she said, her voice as thin as her courage. “But I couldn’t think of imposing on you that way. And I believe I need to sit again.”
He sat her down and handed her the brandy again before sitting himself.
“I’m so sorry,” she apologized, seeing the reflexive pain in his eyes as he bent his knees. “I promise to stay in one place.”
“Do not consider it,” he said, settling once again.
How could she feel worse? She did, staring into her glass as if the answer to her dilemma was swimming about before her. She fought back another bout of tears, because she didn’t deserve them. She should have ended this a long time ago. She should have shown the same courage she had when she’d taken the children and hidden out in the wilds of Cornwall.
But hiding was so much easier than the truth.
“It would not be imposing,” Adam said. “I must marry sometime. Heirs and all. I like you quite a lot, and I consider Lully a gem. Can you say your life would be worse married to a duke? You could help me so much. After all, I cannot imagine the marchioness raising you without extensive training in how to be married to a peer. We could make the title what we wanted. And we could cushion Lully and help her grow into her own title. Who else can better raise her to fulfill her responsibilities? After all, I shall be growing into my title the same time she grows into hers. We can help each other.”
She couldn’t bear it a minute longer. She downed her second glass of brandy as if it had been a cordial and braced for the renewed fire. She should be stumbling in her altitudes about now. She didn’t feel a thing. Certainly not the courage people said resided in the stuff. Certainly not peace of any kind. She just felt worse, because she had come not just to respect this man--heavens, she had respected him all along, ever since Jamie had spoken of the cousin who had nurtured him and encouraged him to be the man he was. No, now that she had finally met him, she had to admit that she had built a far more thorough fondness for him out of no more than stories and smiles. And now? Now.
“That is the problem in its entirety,” she blurted out, staring unblinking at the empty snifter in her hands, knowing that if she didn’t tell him now, her father would. And he would make it so much worse. “She isn’t.”
There was a pause. “Isn’t what?”
Georgie took a shuddering breath. “A duchess.”
Silence. Her heart seemed to crack and flake apart. She was about to shame herself before this kind man. Worse, she was about to shame Jamie and Lully. But there was nothing else to do.
“Is she not Jamie’s child?” he asked in a very quiet voice.
That brought her head up and fire into her heart, just in time to prevent it dying. “Did you not take a good look at her?” she demanded, truly outraged. “Did you not see Jamie in her smile? In her whimsy and, sweet lord, her beautiful hair? All she got from me were her eyes and her reserve.” Without her permission tears collected again in her eyes. “If she had received Jamie’s personality, she would have taken you under her wing and patted your hand like a puppy. She would have dragged y
ou outside to play and fed you scones in the kitchen.”
She wasn’t as astonished as she should have been to see Adam’s eyes brighten with his own tears. “I know. “He cleared his voice and dipped his head. “It is her smile most of all. That is the imp of Jamie as sure as I’m born. My apologies, Lady Georgiana. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Yes you do,” she admitted, sinking back into her seat and wishing she had yet another few fingers of brandy. “And you had every right to ask. No. There is no question who Lully’s father is.”
“Then what is the problem?”
She looked up, silently begging his understanding. Knowing she had no right to it. Knowing too that this was the moment she reached the crossroads and set off on her path alone.
“The problem is that Lully has no right to a title of any kind.”
He went very still.
“Why?”
It was all she could do to keep her eyes open. “Because Jamie and I never quite managed to marry.”
Chapter 6
Georgie thought she would never see another human as shocked as Adam Marrick. He opened his mouth, but for the longest time couldn’t seem to manage words. She swore she could almost hear the thoughts whirling in his head.
“Jamie never told me.”
She flushed miserably. “No. He wouldn’t. I had hoped he could get home in time to rectify the matter.”
A shrug completed the thought, the truth that would never change.
This time it was Adam who gained his feet much faster than he should have and began to pace, his cane thumping and his right leg dragging just a bit. Georgie remained where she was, a miserable lump of shame.
“Who knows?” he asked, not bothering to turn from where he was pouring another tot for himself.
Georgie almost asked him to simply bring the bottle over. She didn’t have enough courage left.
“My parents. Hattie Clark, my companion.”
He stopped. Looked up. “That’s all? Not even your brother or his wife?”
She shrugged. “What would have been the point? There was no consequence to the lie. We fully assumed we would spend our lives tucked away out of sight.”
“But what about when Lully came of age? She must be presented.”
Georgie lifted an eyebrow. “Must she? You saw what happened when my father found out where she was. Do you think he would be any more considerate if I were brazen enough to try to pass off my daughter among the ton?”
He downed the liquid in his snifter and refilled it before heading off again, his limp increasing with every step. She was close to begging him to sit for his own sake, but she knew how necessary movement was sometimes when shock was suffered.
“I’m sorry,” she managed.
Which brought him to a dead stop right in front of her. “What in the name of God are you apologizing for? This was as much Jamie’s fault as….”
She shook her head. “He never knew.”
Adam stared. “He certainly did. I never received a letter without a recitation of every achievement you shared of his brilliant daughter. He evidently went on a two-day drunk when she learned to walk. He wasn’t there, you see, and...”
Tears welled again in both their eyes. “Of course he knew about her. He was over the moon.”
Adam dropped back into his chair. “Then what?”
She drew another breath. “He thought I had permission for the marriage. When we stood before the priest. I was under-age when we married in Portsmouth before he sailed that first time. When my parents found out they disowned me.”
He blinked a couple of times. “That’s it? You had a license and a priest and everything?”
“Banns read. But in Portsmouth where my father wouldn’t find out. I...forged his signature.”
“But there is a license? It is recorded in a church?”
“It doesn’t matter. My father was happy to tell me he he would be delighted to announce my crime if I dared try to tout my supposed marriage. They took the license. It is undoubtedly ash long since.”
For the longest moment Adam just watched her, his eyes dark, thoughtful. And then, amazingly enough, he smiled.
Then he laughed. Georgie stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.
“Not only are you married,” he told her, taking hold of her hand. “But Lully is as much a duchess as I am a duke.”
Georgie tried to pull her hand away. He wouldn’t budge.
“Impossible...”
“No.” He actually lifted her hand and kissed it. “All you need is permission. We can easily obtain that. ” His grin grew piratical. “And even if the permission is after Lully is born, it changes nothing about her title.”
“Of course it does.”
He shook his head, laughing outright. “Not with a Scottish title. Believe it or not, the title is valid if the child is born out of wedlock, as long as the parents normalize relationships. Your Lully is a duchess, whether your father wishes it or not.”
It was Georgie’s turn to leap to her feet. She backed away, as if space would impose reason. “He will never allow it. Think of the scandal.”
“Don’t be silly. The scandal will be if a certain duke spreads the tale that because your father was so hateful, his granddaughter was not only forbidden her rightful title, but labeled a bastard when any loving and supportive parent would have blessed a wedding between his child and a lost war hero.”
She gaped at the mad look in his eye. “You would never.”
“Of course not. But your father doesn’t know that. The only thing he knows about me was that I came looking for you in order to secure Lully’s title. Imagine his reaction to my threat that I would happily divulge the truth if he fails to assure all and sundry that your wedding to the man who should have become the Duke of Kintyre went forward with his blessing and approval. Especially with your brother as witness.”
She stepped forward. “No. No, Jack has enough problems.”
Adam regained his feet with a wince. “I hope we settle this situation soon. I don’t think my knee can take another round.” Balanced on his cane, he reached out once again for her hand. “Jack will never forgive you if you do not allow him to stand by your side. He will truly never forgive you if he cannot give you away when you wed your duke.” He grinned. “Your next duke.”
She faltered, tried to gage the expression in his eyes. Tested her own heart to realize that she was terrified he wasn’t being serious. She wanted this. Oh, Jamie, she wanted this.
“You don’t have to go to those lengths, Adam.”
His smile grew and softened. “Oh, but I do, Georgie. Please don’t make me face this dukedom all on my own. I need someone who understands how to be flexible and bold, brave and loyal.” Now, he was grinning outright. “It would help if she set my blood to fire with her kisses.”
Georgie blushed, her own blood heating quite effectively. “She does?”
“Most assuredly. I have a confession to make. I began to fall in love with you through Jamie’s letters. I tumbled the rest of the way when I watched you thoroughly rout the kidnappers with the help of people who you have inspired into loyalty and respect. They would all die for you. Our attraction is only the icing on the cake. You would make an exemplary duchess. I only hope you could find your way to being my duchess.”
Those pesky tears rose again. This time, though, they were cleansing, joyful, verdant. Spring had come to her soul, and the sun rose. “I believe I could,” she admitted.
He dropped his cane and caught her other hand. “And you could settle for an old soldier who comes to you a bit worse for wear?”
“With all my heart.”
He pulled her close, nestling her against his heart where she had so longed to be. “Do you think Jamie would have approved?”
“I think he made sure that if he couldn’t be here to see Lully and I through, you would. Do you mind?”
He laid his hand against her back and bent his head to hers. “I will be
thankful every day of my life.”
For the longest time they remained where they were, pledging a new love, honoring an old one, setting a path for the future.
“Now,” he finally said. “Shall we go secure a duchy for your daughter?”
And for the first time in years, Georgie laughed with a free heart. “Yes,” she said, reaching up to kiss him one final time before sharing their news. “Let’s.”
Anyone looking on the tableau in the Marquess of Wyndham’s Great Parlor would at first assume that the family gathered before him was seeking a boon, not making an accusation. The Marquess, white-haired and rigidly erect, sat in his favorite chair, the one that looked suspiciously like the Regent’s throne, his beringed hands clutching the chair arms, his austere face set in a terrifying scowl. His wife the Marchioness sat alongside him, just as regal in her puce damask day dress and ropes of heirloom pearls. Her patrician face, though, betrayed a bit of bemusement, as if she had stumbled onto a conversation that had already been in progress.
Along one side of the gathered gilt-edged Louis Quinze furniture sat Georgie’s brother Jack, the Earl of Gracechurch, and his wife Olivia, both humming with tension, both carrying battle scars, even though faded with time. Side by side on an elegant straw settee, he brunette and she blonde, they held hands, much to the Marquess’s discomfort.
On the other side of the room sat Georgie and Adam, also holding hands. For the first time in her life, Georgie faced her father without fear. Without a word Adam reminded her of how strong she was.
“Where is the child?” the marquess barked.
“Why?” Georgie asked, knowing Adam would not intervene for her. “So you can try to nab her again?”
The marquess bristled. “Don’t be absurd, girl.”
The marchioness, her own white-haired head swiveling toward her husband, suddenly scowled. “What does she mean?” .
“This does not concern you, madame,” he snapped at her. “I am speaking to your daughter.”
“That daughter who has new groomsmen,” Georgie said quite as calmly as when she’d faced the kidnappers. She hoped Adam had the brandy ready for when this was over. “Jem is not coming back, father. I should probably tell you that Jem’s father will be joining his son at our home where he is assured no one will coerce his family into illegal and immoral behavior. No one will ever again try to kidnap my daughter, sir. ”
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