The Marquess's Christmas Runaway

by Josie Bonham

  A subdued Georgie accepted his arm and he led the way to the drawing room. He regretted his harsh tone. The nearness of her sent shockwaves through him and he would surely explode if she denied him her bed again tonight. Whatever she might have done he wasn’t the sort of brute who would force himself on an unwilling woman. He had some ground to recover if he wanted to keep lovemaking firmly established in their relationship.

  As a start he led her to the sofa immediately in front of the fire. “You’ll be a lot warmer here.”

  Her cheeks were red as she sat down. Whether from embarrassment or the heat of the fire he wasn’t sure. For a man with seven sisters he was singularly inept at understanding women. The tea tray arrived, closely followed by his port. He settled back, glass in hand. He couldn’t help but notice that Georgie had edged as far away from him as she could get. That didn’t augur well.

  The expanse of creamy white neck and bosom exposed when she lifted her head to drink had him writhing in his seat. Fortunately, she wasn’t looking at him. He had never met a woman who aroused his passions so easily. He tossed back his port and reached for the decanter.

  “This is a superb port, one of my father’s. He was something of a connoisseur.”

  Georgie gave him a tentative smile. “I like tea, but I think you gentlemen have the best of it.”

  Without thinking, Max held out his glass to her. “Try it.”

  Georgie hesitated but accepted the glass and took a few sips. “This is very fine indeed.”

  Their fingers brushed as she returned the glass. A flash of energy shot through him. He jumped up and rang the bell. He had to move away from her before he gave away his current state of frustration by trying to kiss her. He needed her to make the first move. Would an innocent young woman do that? His experience was limited to willing widows. He asked the footman who entered for another glass.

  Georgie appeared to relax as she sipped her port. She put her glass down and licked her lips. Max closed his eyes. It was better that they were a little way apart. Once they were in London there would be few opportunities to be together like this. If they were ever to reach a comfortable place he ought to try and get to know her. He glanced across at her. She seemed as disinclined for conversation as he. Estate business was as safe a topic as any.

  “Charles is the best of good fellows but I wish he hadn’t sent me quite so much estate business to deal with.” He almost shuddered as he remembered all the time he had wasted before Christmas in pursuit of what he had thought of as his interested widow, including that disastrous house party. Now he could barely remember what Lydia Winters looked like. It had all been a game to him but having a wife was a serious matter. If he hadn’t been looking for an easy way out, he wouldn’t have ended up in the kind of deceitful arrangement he had dreaded.

  Georgie turned her lovely grey eyes on him. Was there a hint of a smile in them?

  “Is that why you have been closeted in the library so much?”

  “I’m afraid so.” His cheeks burned at the lie. “I’ve ploughed through the most urgent papers but it will keep me tied up until our move to London.”

  “I see.”

  She turned towards him with her lips parted. Her eyes seemed to be asking him a question. The urge to take her in his arms was almost overwhelming. No, he mustn’t let her see how much he was in thrall to her.

  She picked up her glass and downed the last of her port. “If you will excuse me, I think I’ll retire now.”

  He dipped his head. “Of course.”

  He drank the last of his own port. Her polite declaration felt like a silent criticism of his boorish behaviour the evening before. He had sought sanctuary in the library without any finesse at all. It had been hard enough to sit through dinner after discovering her treachery. Even now he couldn’t sort out his swirling thoughts. She replaced her glass and stood. He eased himself to his feet and walked with her. They parted company at the door of the library.

  “I have a couple of more things to read but I won’t be long.”

  He waited for her answer but she merely nodded. No invitation but she hadn’t said anything to put him off joining her. Perhaps a glass of brandy would give him the courage to try his luck. Once they had an heir that excuse would be denied him but he would worry about that when it happened.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Georgie went into her bedroom to find Martha already waiting for her.

  “It’s beautifully warm in here. Thank you for keeping the fire so well-tended. This gown is lovely but thinner than my brown velvet. Remind me to buy some thicker shawls in London.”

  “Are we going soon, my lady?”

  “It depends on the weather but I expect we’ll leave shortly after the Twelfth Night party.”

  Martha bounced up and down with excitement. “I don’t care what Mrs Powell says. I’m sure it will be wonderful.”

  Georgie was too tired to ask her to explain what she meant. “I would like to go straight to bed.”

  Martha was a quick worker. Within twenty minutes Georgie was in bed listening to the sound of the door shutting behind her. She rubbed at her temple with the heel of her hand. Could things get much worse? Max wasn’t even giving her a meaningful say in household matters now. Why had he changed his mind about leaving Mrs Powell in place until after they had established themselves in London?

  Mrs Mills sounded the sort of loyal retainer to give her good advice on whether the situation with Mrs Powell could be resolved without removing her. She felt so guilty about causing someone to lose their livelihood, no matter how much she told herself Mrs Powell was unkind to the other servants. Max had commented on Mrs Powell’s insolent behaviour when they had given out the staff presents, so she wasn’t imagining it. Even so, her embarrassment on that first evening might be colouring her judgement.

  Tonight, it was almost as if Max was blaming her for Mrs Powell’s attitude. It did seem strange that she would be so openly hostile. Eliza had agreed that she might simply be hoping to be paid off. Perhaps because she felt her position was untenable after her initial reaction to Georgie’s arrival? Still something of an extreme reaction unless she had another position to go to and had seen an opportunity to extract a parting gift?

  She banged a fist into the bed. Whatever, the solution to the problem should have been her decision. Max had no right to order her about like that. A sob escaped her. Legally he had every right to tell her what to do. She pulled a pile of pillows behind her and picked up the book from the table by the bed. It was an exciting tale but she kept stopping to listen for the sound of Max arriving. She had abandoned her book and was about to give up and snuff her candle out when the connecting door between their rooms opened. For a big man he moved stealthily. She hadn’t heard him come upstairs.

  She couldn’t tear her eyes from the door. Max came through wearing his banyan and stopped with his hand still on the doorknob.

  “Are you too tired tonight or would you like me to join you?”

  Georgie’s pulse leapt and heat pooled in the lower part of her stomach. “I’m not ready for sleep yet.”

  Max hesitated and then approached the bed. Georgie busied herself with tidying up the pillows.

  “I’ve been reading. I found some novels your sisters must have left and brought them up here.” She faltered as she noticed his rather forbidding expression. “I hope that was acceptable?”

  “Of course. Everything that is mine is yours now.” Max narrowed his eyes briefly and his expression was stern.

  Why were men so hard to read? Was he irritated that she had even asked or angry that she had helped herself? He walked towards her. She threw back the covers and waited. That seemed to be all the invitation he needed. He dropped his banyan to reveal his naked body. Georgie gasped at his masculine beauty. Powerful thighs were topped by a fine torso, rippling with the muscles of an active man. Her eyes dropped lower. His desire for her was obvious.

  She slipped out of her nightdress and watched him walk
towards her. He climbed into bed beside her and pulled the covers over them. To her surprise he propped himself up on an elbow and put a finger her under chin to lift her face to his. Their eyes met.

  “Are you sure you want this tonight? You only have to say if you would prefer to go straight to sleep.” He gave a bark of laughter. “I’ve done this in the wrong order haven’t I? I should have asked you before I undressed.”

  She felt as if he was trying to look into her soul, his gaze was so intense. “Yes, I do. Want this, I mean.”

  “You don’t have to lock your door if you want me to stay out at any time. A word will be enough.”

  He released her chin and she lay back on her pillows.

  “I’m sorry if I angered you by locking my door the other day. It wasn’t you. I didn’t want anyone to come in. I still miss my aunt dreadfully. Sometimes it washes over me and I need to be alone for a while.”

  “Why would I be angry? What I was trying to say was that I would never expect to exercise my conjugal rights if it wasn’t what you wanted too.”

  He moved closer and put an arm around her shoulders. “If you’re quite sure you’re happy could we proceed?”

  His breath against her ear made her shiver. For her answer she raised her lips to his and kissed him. He responded and they were soon entwined.

  “Let’s try something different.” He rolled on to his back and pulled her on top.

  Confusion gave way to excitement as she followed his instructions. It felt good to be controlling their tempo. When he reached between them to caress her sensitive spot she was lost. Ecstasy crashed over her and she was relieved when Max followed her immediately to his own climax. She hadn’t the energy to move for a while. He rested for a few moments and then left her with nothing more than a kiss on the forehead. The bed felt empty without him.

  ***

  Max went back to his room, his thoughts in turmoil. When he was with Georgie it was hard to imagine she was anything other than the sweet girl she seemed. On the other hand, he was sure she had been as aroused as him even before they started. Perhaps a lot of virgins enjoyed marital bliss very quickly? That was one question he had no intention of asking his sisters. Taken on its own it was no reason to be suspicious either. He would interview Mrs Powell with Charles. If she confirmed his suspicions at least he would know.

  ***

  Georgie had gone out for one of her solitary walks when Charles arrived the following morning. Max watched her retreating back from the window of the library. She looked so vulnerable with her shoulders hunched against the wind. He was gripped with a powerful surge of regret at what might have been and it was a moment before he could greet his secretary.

  “Ah, Charles, I’m glad you managed to make it through.”

  Charles grinned at him. “The roads are completely clear now. I see things are going well with your marriage.”

  Max frowned at him. “What makes you say that?”

  “It was obvious from the way you were watching Lady Hargreaves set off on her walk. Sorry, I shouldn’t pry, but I’m so happy for you. My uncle knew the family. He said she’s a delightful girl.”

  Max grunted. “Hmph! If you hadn’t sent me so much estate work, she wouldn’t have to go out walking on her own.” The lie felt awkward on his tongue but he had to keep up appearances.

  “Have you managed to find a mount for her?”

  Max sat at his desk and gestured to Charles to take the other seat. “I haven’t thought to ask her if she rides.”

  Charles raised an eyebrow at him. “I suppose it did all happen rather suddenly.”

  Max sighed. “It did. All sorts of lurid rumours were flying about. I hope they’ve died down now.”

  “All we heard in Porchester was that you’d married Miss Sherborne as soon as she was out of mourning for her aunt. A longstanding engagement I understand.”

  Max burst out laughing. “Charles, if you weren’t the nephew of one of my father’s dearest friends I swear I’d dismiss you on the spot. As you very well know, I had no thoughts of marriage in my head when I sent you off to Porchester early. How is your uncle by the way?”

  Charles pulled a face. “Not in good shape I’m afraid. Although the doctor assures me it will be a while yet. Once your affairs are up to date and I’ve seen you off to London, I’d like to take unpaid leave of absence if I may.”

  “Of course, and I insist on paying you. I’ve cleared most of the outstanding things.”

  Charles gave him a hard look. “On your honeymoon? Things are not going as smoothly as I thought then. She’s not a secret bluestocking, is she?”

  “I’ve no idea. She’s been reading a lot but I think they’ve all been novels.”

  Max jumped up so abruptly his chair teetered on the brink of falling. He walked around the room and stood at the window with his back to Charles. Eventually he marched back to the desk and slumped into his seat.

  “It’s a sorry tale and I don’t know the truth of it. I need your help so I’m going to have to tell you my suspicions.” Max felt his cheeks heat up. Charles was more of a friend than an employee but even so this was awkward. “Would you like a glass of brandy first?”

  “No thanks, it’s far too early for me. I wouldn’t say no to some coffee though.”

  Max thought for a moment. He had been too on edge to eat much breakfast. “Let’s go into the breakfast room. I’ll have Barton send for coffee and more food.”

  “Now that’s the best offer I’ve had all day. I started out so early I’m famished.”

  It was easier to fill Charles in on the circumstances of his marriage and his suspicions as they ate. That way he could avoid eye contact. He downed a cup of coffee and watched Charles start on a large plate of food. He gave Charles a summary of the events leading up to his marriage.

  “The thing is, Charles, the strange attitude of Mrs Powell has unsettled me. I’ve never known an upper servant be openly insolent as she is to Georgie.”

  Charles stopped eating and flushed. “That may simply mean that Mrs Powell was so scandalised by Lady Hargreaves travelling around the country unchaperoned that she can’t hide it. Not that Lady Hargreaves had a great deal of choice by the sound of it.”

  “I convinced myself I was overreacting and then something even odder happened.” Max sighed. “It was the day your letter arrived. I saw Georgie coming up from the servants’ quarters and caught a glimpse of Mrs Powell disappearing. I asked Georgie how she got on with her but she said she only saw her briefly as she had gone to talk to Cook. Georgie seemed distant as if she was worried about something.”

  “There’s nothing in that.”

  “Except I overheard her say, ‘Some people are never satisfied.’ I asked her to repeat it and she looked horrified. I’m sure she was so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t realised she had spoken that aloud. I’m afraid Mrs Powell has some sort of hold over her.”

  “She could have been referring to anything.” Charles put down his cup and patted his stomach. “I couldn’t manage another thing. Are you sure you aren’t reading too much into this Max and letting your bad experience with Lavinia Fellowes colour your judgement? Uncle was thrilled when he heard the news. Said she was the sort of kind, sensible girl you needed to help you look after estates like this.”

  “That’s what I thought at first. Her story sounded so plausible and I admired her for having the courage to escape an awful situation. Now I even wonder about that. I only have her word for it that the abuse from her relatives actually happened.”

  Charles put his head on one side. “Let’s take it one thing at a time. Whichever version of Lady Hargreaves’s interaction with Mrs Powell is correct, the housekeeper has to go.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Georgie stared at the strange horse being led into the stables. Her heart missed a beat. What if Cousin Mary had sent someone after her? Whoever it was they must be in the house for the groom to take the horse. She should be safe enough and Max would see them on th
eir way in no time at all. At least she felt secure now. All the same she wouldn’t stray far from the house.

  She wandered down to the rose garden. For some reason she always felt at peace here. There was a brisk breeze and, even in the shelter of the brick walls enclosing each formal garden, it felt cold. She decided to cut short her walk. Inside the house she made a detour to the library in the hope of finding out who had arrived. The door stood ajar and there was no sign of anyone.

  She ran up the stairs and found Martha in her room. The maid’s face glowed with excitement and she broke into a big smile when she saw Georgie.

  “You’ll never guess, my lady.” Martha jumped up and down.

  “Guess what, Martha? Take a deep breath and tell me.”

  “I had it from the parlour maid who is walking out with the second footman.”

  Georgie threw her cloak on the bed and waited. There was no hurrying the girl.

  “Mrs Powell has been taken to the breakfast room and Mr Breakwell is talking to her along with His Lordship. It looks like they’re going to send her away from what the second footman managed to hear at the door.”

  “When was this?”

  “Just this minute.”

  Max must have sent a messenger direct to Mr Breakwell, unless he had turned up on some other matter. They should have consulted her before they made a final decision. She didn’t like the woman but she ought to have a fair hearing. She could hear her aunt’s voice deploring the way servants were often dismissed on a whim without a chance to defend themselves. She marched into the breakfast room without knocking. Mrs Powell was standing with her back to her, facing Max across his desk.

  A sandy haired man of medium height, presumably Mr Breakwell, moved between Mrs Powell and Max. He thrust an arm out in the direction of the door.

  “I have a carriage at your disposal, Mrs Powell,” he said in a firm voice. “I suggest you take His Lordship’s generous offer.”