by Lorri Dudley
“You do it to me.” He handed her a handkerchief.
“That’s ridiculous.” She wiped the corners of her eyes.
“Every time, I get a peek at the real you. Every time you open up and I get close, like this.” He stepped in toward her, and his hand dropped to encircle her waist. “You push me away by bringing up Claremont.”
His nearness rattled her, leaving her off balance. Those warm caramel eyes made it impossible to look away. “I didn’t…”
She let her words trail off as she recalled the Rousseau house party. Excitement had filled her when she’d seen him across the room, again when they’d danced. It’d been lovely. They’d laughed. They’d teased each other. Then her insecurities welled up, and she’d mentioned Julien, and they fought the rest of the evening.
“If I were a betting man, I’d place high stakes at White’s you did the same to Lord Claremont and whomever these other fellows are.” His eyes held her captive. “You reject them before they can reject you. You find a way to keep them on the other side of your drawbridge.
“But I’ve had a glimpse of the princess who resides behind your buttressed walls. She’s beautiful, not only in her looks but in her heart. Kind enough to spend time fishing with an eight-year-old boy who misses his mother. Thoughtful enough to hand over an expensive gown for a slave boy’s sick mother to wear to the grave. Charming enough to delight in teaching children to read.” His voice lowered into an almost-whisper. “And fierce enough to bring this dead man’s heart back to life.”
His fingers applied gentle pressure to her waist until she swayed in his direction. His eyes deepened to a dark umber.
A heady sensation swept through her, and her fingers curled around his arms for support. He’s going to kiss me. Don’t foul this up. Don’t make a mess of things as you usually do.
His mouth hovered above hers.
She didn’t breathe. Her lips tingled, ready and eager as she waited.
Instead of kissing her, he drew up and pulled her into his chest.
Her eyes flew open. His familiar scent of spice and coconut enveloped her as she turned her face into his shirt to hide her disappointment. It wasn’t a kiss, but it was an embrace. After all she’d done, including her fit about freckles a few minutes ago, she should be thankful he too didn’t run from her presence.
“We must head back before anyone comes searching for us,” he murmured into her hair.
“Of course.”
She pulled away, and Harrison offered his arm. She curled her fingers around his bicep, and he covered her hand with his other and kept it there. A spark of hope flared inside her chest. Did his possessive touch mean something?
He led her back down the path in comfortable silence, even though her world seemed to teeter on the edge of a precipice. She cared for Harrison. There was no sense in hiding the truth. But did he care for her? If he did, why didn’t he kiss her?
Once again, the vulnerable girl in pantaloons rose up inside her. Harrison crumbled her walls to dust, and there was not a bit of rubble or even pink muslin to hide her heart behind. Her body started to tremble. She needed cover, like after Eve ate the apple and realized she was naked. Without her façade, would Harrison love her or find her lacking?
“Are you cold?”
“No.” She cleared her throat before it clogged with tears. “It’s the sunburn. My body’s struggling to maintain a normal temperature.”
When Harrison walked her up the steps to her father’s house, the shadows had already grown long, and the sun hovered on the horizon. He stopped before opening the door.
“I’m afraid I’ve been putting off telling you some terrible news.” He cleared his throat. “I came by yesterday, but you were entertaining company.”
Was he upset about Rousseau’s visits?
He hesitated, but only concern seemed to furrow his brow. “Booker’s mother passed yesterday.”
Georgia gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no.”
“It was expected. She had a quiet funeral yesterday. I gave Booker your regards.”
“I…I should have been there.” Several hot tears slipped down her cheeks, and she wiped them away with her fingers.
“Death happens all the time on Nevis, and with slaves, it’s different. Usually, it’s only the family that mourns. The other slaves are still expected to work.”
“He’s a child.”
“He’s doing well, considering. He knows his mother is in heaven. His aunt will care for him.”
She nodded, but ached deep inside for the boy. Her own heart had broken when her father left, but he was still alive. Booker would never again have the opportunity to see his mother this side of heaven.
Harrison stared at her with those warm eyes that penetrated deep into her soul. Her shame no longer had a place to hide, but he didn’t flinch, and neither did she.
“I could use your help at school tomorrow if you’ve recovered.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
An awkward silence filled the air as they stood there, neither willing to look away. Georgia longed to feel his powerful arms around her once again. She wanted to fling herself into his chest and sob like the weak woman she was.
Harrison opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. The rhythmic rumble of waves crashing against the shore sounded in the distance. He stood so close she could feel his body absorb the heat that radiated from hers, yet a hundred different reasons blocked them like a glass wall.
He cleared his throat and stepped back. “Max and I will swing by with the wagon tomorrow.”
She nodded, her mind not able to summon a response that would make sense.
“Good night then.” He turned and traipsed down the steps.
As Georgia watched him go, she cursed her whimsical heart. Somehow, she’d fallen in love with an island schoolmaster, and left herself even more vulnerable than the frightened misfit who flopped her first London season.
Chapter 21
…The timing could not be worse. Appeal to the prince on my behalf. Let him know I have every intention of returning. My duty is first to my king, but if there is any way to stall for time, do so. Something unexpected has come up.
—From the Duke of Linton to Lord Liverpool
He’d almost kissed Georgia.
Harrison berated himself as he picked his way through the tall grass. A family of land pike scattered, their ear-piercing shrieks alerting him of their displeasure.
He’d wanted to kiss her. There was no denying it.
But how could he betray Laura? How could he love another woman when his heart was buried with his wife’s body?
God, help me understand Your will.
He strolled up the walk lined with palm trees that ended at a large bubbling fountain. The great house stood beyond it, the grand entrance welcoming him. But instead of entering, he veered right down a path that led to the house manager’s meager quarters and opened the door. The room was clean and tidy, and a blazing fire met him in the hearth.
“Good evening, Mary.” He nodded to the servant.
“A letter arrived for you, Mr. Wells. It’s in dat tray.” She pointed, then bobbed a respectful nod and left through the only door to the servant’s entrance of the main house.
He couldn’t live in that massive home, but he couldn’t let it turn to shambles either. Instead of buying slaves, he’d gone to the auction and purchased their loyalty by giving them their freedom. He offered them room, board, and wages to staff the house and keep it maintained. All but two had accepted his offer. The two who didn’t take his offer of work headed to the summit of Mount Nevis, where it was rumored a colony of escaped slaves resided.
The finances that came with his dukedom were both a blessing and a curse. The islanders believed he was an estate manager and the schoolmaster, and he preferred it that way. Very few people would understand the detriments of being a duke, even if he were to admit to the title. He’d left England not only to escape the me
mories of Laura, but also to protect himself and his son from determined young females and their match-making mamas whose sole desire was to possess his title and fortune.
He grimaced, remembering their attempts to leg-shackle him. They had followed him into the privy. They’d snuck into his carriage. One even crawled into his bed. At least, she’d thought it was his bed. Lady Milton had scared the life out of his poor mother. Each ambitious woman had hoped to wrangle up a scandal and force him into marriage.
Georgia may have been in pursuit of a desirable husband, but who could blame her, when she lived in the shadows of her sisters’ good marriages? At first, he’d been disgusted with her antics, comparing her with every scheming female who’d ever tried to manipulate him into matrimony.
But God had opened his eyes to see her insecurities and to know her heart, and now he couldn’t seem to squelch the attraction growing inside him.
She held feelings for him as well. He could see the desire in her eyes. Her lips begged for kissing, and her heart longed for the freedom to be loved. Georgia was not the woman she pretended to be.
But then again, neither was he the man he showed the world. Logic told Georgia he was beneath her as a schoolmaster and wouldn’t hold a candle to her mother’s expectations. Little did she know, as the Duke of Linton, he was the most sought-after bachelor in all of England. He hadn’t meant to be secretive or to toy with her emotions, but he didn’t regret his actions. He needed to know if Georgia could love him for him. Not only his title.
“Hello, Papa.” Max bounded around the corner of his bedroom. Oscar sat perched on his arm, wings flapping.
“Rawch,” Oscar squawked. “Hello.”
Max beamed. “He’s talking all the time now.”
“Lovely,” Harrison said in a dry tone.
Max straightened his arm, and the bird flew to the windowsill. “How did your talk go with Miss Georgia? Did she forgive us?”
“Yes, she did. She actually tried to convince me that you shouldn’t be punished.”
His face lit up. “Really? So, we can fish tomorrow?”
“Sorry, squirt.” He tousled his son’s hair. “My ruling still stands.”
Max’s face fell. “Rats.”
“It’s only a week.” Harrison sat on the sofa near the fire and reached for his Bible. “No fishing and a few extra chores won’t kill you.”
“I know.” Max plopped down next to him. “You like Miss Georgia, don’t you?” He rested his small chin on his fist. “She makes you laugh and shake your head.”
Harrison peered at his son with a crooked smile. “I do like her. She can be frustrating, but she has a good heart.”
“I make you angry and frustrated sometimes, but you love me.”
“I do. I love you very much.”
“Do you love Miss Georgia then?”
Harrison hesitated. “Well, that’s complicated.”
“Why?”
“I still love your mama.”
“I love Mama, too, but I also have enough love in my heart for Miss Georgia.” He nudged his way underneath his father’s arm and snuggled against his chest. A position Harrison could never get enough of. “Hattie told me that after she had her first baby, she didn’t think she could love anyone more. But then she had another baby, and she said more love grew in her heart, more than plenty for both of them.”
The fire crackled as silence settled between them. Did his son have any idea how much wisdom was packed into those simple words? Max let out a yawn. “I think Mama would love Miss Georgia.”
The words sent a pang through his chest, but he forced himself to smile at his young son. “Your Mama loved everyone.”
“Then you should ask Miss Georgia to marry you. She’s been real sad and lonely, and I know you’ve been sad and lonely without Mama. You laugh more now that Miss Georgia is here.” He twisted his head to peer up at Harrison. “You know what? I think God sent her to us. God knew we needed her. Will you ask her?”
Max shifted, laid his head in his father’s lap, and let out another yawn.
A lump formed in Harrison’s throat, making it hard to force out words. “I’m going to have to pray about it some more, son.”
Max gave a little shake of his head as his eyes closed. “I’ve been praying, Papa. Praying enough for both of us.”
Georgia and Hattie packed enough food to last several weeks—puddings, jams, jellies, pies, breads, cheeses, fruits, dried meats, and more.
“Dis should put some meat on his bones.” Hattie handed a basket to Harrison to load into the wagon.
“Booker and his aunt will feast on this.” Harrison nodded at Hattie. “Thank you.”
“It was all Miss Georgia’s idea.”
Harrison glanced at her, and his warm, appreciative smile sent a surge of heat to her cheeks. “It was the least I could do.” She waved it off, but he continued to grin at her. “Don’t smile at me like that.”
His smile broadened, deepening the crinkles next to his eyes. “Like what?”
She shooed a hand in his direction. “Like what you’re doing. I don’t need any more color in my cheeks than I already have.”
Harrison settled Max between the baskets of food, then aided Georgia into the front seat. He resumed his spot next to her and spurred the horses in the direction of the school.
They rode in silence, but the thoughts gnawing in Georgia’s mind wouldn’t let her relax. Finally, she turned to face him. “You said yesterday that God could change me. Do you really believe it? That He can make me into a good person?”
“God can do anything, but I think you misunderstood me.”
She braced herself and waited for the lecture. God can, but you’ve a lot to atone for…
He rubbed his forehead before glancing at her. “God knows who you truly are and who you are capable of being. He made you, and He’ll help you through when you’re ready. It says in Psalm 139 that He knows your inmost being. You are His unique and wonderful creation. He made you special.” He exhaled a long breath. “I hate to tell you, but you dishonor Him by pretending to be someone you’re not.”
“I know that now.” Did she dare voice her true fears? Harrison held so much wisdom, and something about him felt safe. Safe enough to trust. She sighed. “In truth, I’m scared. People don’t like the real me.”
He shook his head “That’s where you’re wrong. You keep the real Georgia Lennox hiding under a bushel. If you’d let God’s light shine through you, you’ll find people are drawn to you. Not merely to your outward beauty, but the true beauty you hold inside.”
“But I make a mess of things.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach. “You said it yourself. I push people away. I foul it up without even being aware.”
A smile slid across Harrison’s features. “Welcome to being human.”
Overhead, a seagull cried as it flew by. The bird veered out to sea, gliding over the ocean. Harrison’s rough palm took her hand in his. She stared at his tanned fingers, then at him, and their eyes held for a moment.
“God’s grace is more powerful than any mistake you’ve ever made or ever could make. He will meet you where you are, or if need be, He will pursue you to a far-off island. He’s relentless in His desire for you.”
Her stomach did a small flip. God desired her?
“I blamed myself when my wife died. If I’d only decided to take the carriage home that day instead of coaxing her into an evening stroll, my whole life would have been different. I was so embittered and wrapped up in guilt that it required me sailing clear across the Atlantic before God could get my attention.
“That’s when I met your father. We were both emotionally raw, and we tumbled into God’s open arms together. It took time, but eventually, we began to see that not only did God’s grace cover our mistakes, but with His help, we could forgive ourselves.” He raised his brows. “Have you noticed a difference in your father?”
“Yes.” Her response leapt off her lips because the difference was
so profound.
“I used to be a lot like the old him—proud, self-sufficient, and indestructible. We both changed. God worked two miracles.”
She searched his warm gaze. “Will God change me?”
He didn’t back down from her scrutiny. “You have to ask Him.”
“That’s all?” Georgia blinked. Could that be all? Did she dare hope?
Harrison squeezed her hand. “You simply need to ask him into your heart.”
“How?”
Max, who’d been silent thus far, popped up from the backseat. “It’s easy. You pray.”
Pray. Ask God to change her. Is that what Aunt Tessa had done, too? A surge of desperation slipped through her. She wanted the peace her aunt possessed. The peace she now saw in her father. And Harrison.
“We’ll pray with you.” Harrison slowed the wagon to a stop and turned to her, his gaze holding hers steady. “If that’s what you want to do.”
“Yes.” The word slipped out before she realized she’d made a conscious decision. But she had. If God could make her into a better person, she would let Him.
The corners of Harrison’s eyes creased in a smile, then he bowed his head. Max did, too, so Georgia followed suit.
“Repeat after me,” Harrison said. “Jesus.”
Georgia repeated his words. “Please come into my heart. Change me and make me a new person. Forgive me of my past and present sins and make me into Your likeness. Amen.”
She opened her eyes and met Harrison’s gaze. His smile was warm, his gaze intent. She could get lost in those eyes.
Max tapped her on the shoulder, and she forced herself to look at the boy.
He was beaming at her. “Do you feel any different?”
She was still herself, but a burden had lifted. She felt lighter. She felt…hopeful. She smiled. “Yes, I do. I truly do.”
They worked side-by-side at the school. On several occasions, Georgia caught Harrison staring at her. It left her giddy, and though she tried to temper her reaction, she couldn’t keep the smile off her lips. Only one thing made her frown, and she approached Harrison about it at the end of the day. “Booker didn’t come today.”
