by Cheryl Holt
Georgina could barely stand to watch them cooing and cuddling. It made her own sorry circumstance even more pathetic, and she hated to be petty, but she constantly wondered: Why can’t I have what they have? Why can’t I stumble on someone who will always love me? Why can’t I live happily ever after?
The butler entered to fetch Sophia so she could consult with the housekeeper over the supper menu. As he led her away, Georgina suffered an embarrassing moment of jealousy. Once, in the not too distant past, she was the one consulted by the servants.
She’d run the estate and had been adept at it too. She’d enjoyed those days when she’d felt useful and important. Now she felt lost and adrift and incredibly bored.
She waited for Sophia to return, and when she didn’t she rose and wandered the halls. In the three months she’d been away, her mind had played tricks on her. She’d recalled the manor as a cherished place where she’d reveled in the grandeur, but she didn’t actually have fond feelings.
She was detached from it all as if she was a visitor who’d never resided there. Her memories were raw, her history too unpleasant. There was no tender yearning to tarry.
Eventually she found herself in the rear of the mansion and walking toward the estate agent’s office. It was Kit’s office now so it was wrong to enter, but she couldn’t keep herself from sneaking in to take a peek.
She tiptoed over to the desk and was looking out the window into the garden when, from behind her, a familiar, aggravating voice said, “Hello, Georgina.”
Her heart skipped with an excitement that astonished her, and she whipped around. “Mr. Drummond!”
“Fancy meeting you here.”
He was seated in a chair in the corner, and apparently he’d been there for a while. There was a table next to him, a decanter of liquor and a glass were there too. Most of the contents of the bottle were gone.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“London.”
“Why didn’t you tell anybody? Kit has been worried sick.”
“He shouldn’t have been. He knows I have nine lives, and I still have several of them left.”
“Miles’s men didn’t get hold of you again did they?”
“No. I simply had business to complete.”
“You’re back.”
“For a bit. Yes.”
He was studying her strangely, and she was gaping strangely too. Ever since she’d realized her predicament, she’d been eagerly anticipating this encounter. In her mind, she’d rehearsed her comments a thousand times, but with them sitting face to face she had no idea how to raise the topics that truly needed to be addressed.
She’d never missed her parents more. This was the sort of conversation a father had with a potential son-in-law. Or that a mother had with a daughter. Then a swift wedding would be arranged. Yet how could a single female such as herself wrangle the appropriate conclusion? How could she force a recalcitrant man to do the right thing?
“Why are you snooping in here?” he asked. “Were you searching for something?”
“No. I’m nostalgic, I guess. I loved being in this room.”
“Kit loves it too, I suspect.”
“Yes, he does.”
“Why are you at Kirkwood?”
“Why are you?”
“I own the property. What’s your excuse?”
She flushed from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes.
Tell him! Just blurt it out! But she might have been struck dumb.
When she didn’t reply, he said, “I must admit I’m surprised. After our quarrel in Whitfield, I never expected to see you again.”
“I had to…ah…talk to Sophia about a problem I was having.”
Suddenly he was assessing her like a hawk circling a rabbit. “What problem?”
“It’s not important,” she stupidly responded.
“I take it your job at your cousin’s tavern didn’t work out.”
“Oh, it worked out. I could return if I wanted to.”
“You don’t want to?”
“Not at the moment, but I might in the future. It all depends…”
“On what?”
She was swamped by a potent urge to run out and hide, and it dawned on her that she should have Kit speak to him. It would certainly be easier to let Kit handle it. But she’d never been a ninny, had never been scared to confront issues that had to be confronted.
When had she grown so timid?
“Are you planning to stay on at Kirkwood?” she inquired.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“As you succinctly pointed out that day at Whitfield, I hate it here. I never should have come back. There are too many demons to plague me.”
“I feel the same way. Where will you go instead?”
“I haven’t decided. It depends…”
“On what?” she asked as he just had.
He stood and walked over to her. He was so tall and imposing, and she never got over the aura of strength and power that rolled off him in waves.
“I can’t remain in England,” he said. “In light of how the Crown treated me, I’ve lost any patriotic affection.”
“You’ll leave Britain?”
“Yes.”
In the grueling hours she’d pondered this reunion, she’d wondered if he hadn’t already left the country, but in a small part of her brain she’d persuaded herself that he hadn’t, that she’d have sensed his absence.
But to hear him say he was really going! She couldn’t imagine England without him in it, and mad as it sounded, she nearly fell to her knees and begged him not to depart.
Wasn’t that the oddest scenario ever? What was it to her if he departed? So long as he provided financially for her child before he went it shouldn’t matter what he did.
“Will you return to Australia?” she asked.
“No. My memories of that place are even worse than my memories of this one. I’m partial to the weather there though. The sun was always shining, and I liked that very much. I was thinking I’d like to settle in a more temperate climate.”
“Where might that be?”
“Spain? Italy? I stopped in Cairo on the way from Botany Bay. I met a rich Frenchman named Valois who had a villa on the banks of the Nile and he lived like a king. Maybe that should be my destination. Or I own a sugar plantation in Jamaica. I could head there.”
“I can’t envision you in any of those spots.”
“Why can’t you?”
“I suppose I’ll always connect you to Kirkwood. I can’t picture you anywhere else.”
“And I can’t picture myself here.”
“Would you ever come back to visit?”
“No.”
There was a complicated pause where he stared down at her, but neither of them commented. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something, but she might have been choking on a tough piece of meat. She simply couldn’t push out the facts, and she became even more determined to have Kit talk to him. That was the best idea. Why hadn’t she realized it sooner?
“Well…ah…I should probably find Sophia,” she mumbled like an idiot.
“You still haven’t told me why you’re at Kirkwood.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Are you going to?”
She gazed into his eyes, and for a few seconds she felt as if she was swallowed up in them. For once, he didn’t shield his emotions. All his masks had been removed, and she could view every fond sentiment.
It was difficult to be so close to him, to peer up at him, and a wave of vertigo swept over her. In an instant, she was so dizzy she swayed from side to side. Quick as a snake, he gripped her elbow, guided her over to a chair, and eased her down.
He frowned. “You look as if you’re about to swoon.”
“I was a bit overwhelmed for a minute.”
“It’s perfectly understandable. I’m definitely overwhelming, but I never took you for the swooning type.”
“You
know women.” She chuckled half-heartedly. “They suffer from many mysterious ailments that men never want to hear about.”
“Are you ailing?”
“I wouldn’t call it ailing precisely.”
“What would you call it then? If I hadn’t caught you, you’d be flat on the floor.”
Her cheeks were so hot with embarrassment that she was amazed she didn’t ignite. She was anxious to scoot out of the room and locate Kit so he could have the conversation she couldn’t bear to have.
She moved as if she might rise, and he snapped, “Don’t you dare get up.”
“I really should find Sophia.”
“Bugger, Sophia! Stay right where you are.”
Like a trained pony, she sank down, watching silently as he grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of her. He sat too, near enough that their legs were tangled together.
He glared at her, and again he seemed to be waiting for her to speak, and she was kicking herself for being such a coward.
Ultimately he said, “I’m giving Kirkwood to Kit as a wedding present. Over the years, he’s done me so many favors, and I’m eager to do this one for him.”
“I think it’s wonderful.”
He always surprised her. He could be so kind and generous, but there was an opposite side to any coin. He could also be cruel and callous.
“He lived in a place much like Kirkwood when he was a boy.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“For some reason, his mother lost it after his father died. Kit was so young that he never understood why, but he always yearned to own the same sort of property.”
“You made his dream come true.”
“You get some of the credit.”
“Why?”
“You suggested it when I visited you in Whitfield.”
“Yes. Whitfield. I remember it well.”
Her cheeks grew even hotter—if that was possible. They’d had a horrible fight that was too excruciating to recall.
“Have you ever regretted the answer you gave me that day?” he asked.
“Ah…ah…”
He jumped on her hesitation. “What does that mean? You do regret it? You don’t?”
“I have no idea what I mean.”
“I ran into Kit,” he casually mentioned, “out in the barn when I was stabling my horse.”
“Did you?” she replied just as casually, but her pulse was racing.
“He told me an interesting story about you.”
Ah! He’d been aware of her predicament before she’d walked into the room. The rat! He’d merely been toying with her. How aggravating! How humiliating!
“Why don’t you tell me what you need to tell me,” he said. “Let’s discover what happens.”
She glanced down at her lap. “I can’t figure out how.”
“Just say it. I doubt the Earth will stop spinning on its axis.”
She took a deep breath, took another, then spat out the words. “I’m increasing with your child.”
He didn’t comment, but was so still that if she hadn’t been able to see his feet, she might have assumed he’d sneaked out. She peeked up, and he was studying her intently.
“I never wanted to be a father,” he said.
“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you seduced me.”
“Yes, perhaps I should have,” he concurred, “and since it’s occurred I guess I have to decide how I feel about it.”
“How you…feel?” She sputtered with offense.
“Yes. I was previously willing to marry you, but you were mortally opposed. Now you’re desperate to have me because you’re in the family way. You didn’t want me then, and maybe I don’t want you now.”
“Oh.”
He stared, wearing her down with the full force of his personality. She never could fend off his potent magnetism. He was simply too grand, larger than life, a god among men.
Suddenly he grinned. “But I could probably be convinced to rescue you from your dire fate.”
“Rescue me!” Her temper flared, and she leapt up. “Listen to me, you rude oaf. I would rather slit my wrists than be shackled to you.”
“I realize that. You’ve been very clear.”
“I want to wed for love and affection. I want to be cherished for once. I want a husband who worships me.”
His grin widened. “You want to be worshipped?”
“Why are you grinning? Are you laughing at me? If you are, stop it! Have you any notion of how afraid I’ve been?”
“Why would you be afraid? I told you I’d always help you.”
“We couldn’t find you! No one knew where you were!”
“That put you in a fine mess, didn’t it?”
He was still sitting, relaxed in his chair and looking as if he didn’t have a concern in the world. She was standing so she towered over him for a change, but—with her shouting and scolding—she sounded like a shrew. Why didn’t he stand up too? Why didn’t he say things she might like to hear?
He never behaved as she needed him to behave!
“What am I to do?” she wailed.
“What would you like to do?”
“I’d like this to never have happened!”
“You don’t want to have a baby?”
“I want to have it!”
“You don’t want to have me with it? Is that the problem?”
“It’s not that.”
“What is it then?”
“I never expected I’d have a child, and now that I am it’s all wrong.”
“Why is it wrong?”
Without warning, she burst into tears. These days, she was so blasted emotional, and she couldn’t control herself. “Because you could never love me, but if I don’t marry you, I won’t ever have a home or a family. How will I get by?”
“You can have me.” He chuckled, appearing vexed, but pleased too. “Oh, Georgina, don’t cry. I can’t bear it.”
Finally he stood, and he pulled her into his arms and snuggled her to his chest. She was too fatigued by events to push him away, and her body remembered how much she yearned to be in this exact spot.
“It will be all right, Georgina,” he murmured.
“How will it?”
“I’ll make it all right.”
“But you’re a confirmed bachelor.”
“It won’t kill me to wed.”
“It won’t kill you? See? You’ll propose because you have to. It’s not a good way for us to start our life together.”
“No, it’s not so what if we agree we’re proceeding because we choose to and not because we have to?”
“You’d be an awful husband,” she bluntly stated, and she was definitely blubbering.
“I might be awful,” he mused, “or I might surprise you. I might turn out to be a perfect husband, and you’d be deliriously happy.”
She cried even harder, hating it when he was funny, when he was sarcastic. It forced her to recollect how much she liked him, how interesting and appealing he could be.
“I’m sorry you’ve been so afraid,” he said as he dried her tears.
“I don’t know what’s best.”
“The answer is simple. You need a husband immediately, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m available.”
“What would I do with you?”
“You’ll figure it out. Wives always learn how to manage their husbands.”
“I was planning to ask you for money so I could support myself.”
“Yes, Kit informed me of how crazed you were being, but I’m not about to provide any financial assistance. Not if you intend to remain single and unwed. You’ll have to attach yourself to me to get any of my help. It seems I have a price and that price is marriage.”
“You don’t love me,” she muttered.
He sighed with frustration. “Why do you keep saying that? You made the same complaint that afternoon in Whitfield, but you’re wrong.” He took her hand in his and linked their fingers. “I love you, Geor
gina Fogarty. I love you so much I’m dying with it.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Say you love me too,” he urged. “You used to, and it hasn’t been that long ago. You can’t have lost all your fondness in such a short period. Some of it has to still linger.”
“It might,” she grudgingly admitted.
“Then if there’s a flicker, you have to give me a chance to fan it into a raging inferno.”
“I doubt you can.”
“Me! Not able! You’re mad if you think so.”
“You’re not even staying in England!” she moaned.
“No, I’m leaving, but I want you to come with me.”
“To where?”
“To wherever you like. You once confessed that you have your mother’s wanderlust. Well, I have the wealth to indulge it. Let’s just…go.”
“Go?” she repeated like a dullard, yet at the notion, she rippled with excitement.
“There’s nothing to keep us here, especially with my offering Kirkwood to Kit. We’ll leave, and you can pick our destination.”
She pondered forever, then tentatively said, “I might like to escape from Kirkwood. I might like to see other places.”
Was she actually considering it? Would she trot off with him to strange lands? She had a baby on the way. She’d have to be insane to contemplate it. Had he driven her insane? Was that what had happened?
“We could head to Scotland and wed in Gretna Green,” he said.
“We’d elope?”
“Why not? Who is there to care what we do?”
“Sophia and Kit might care.”
“They’ll get over it. Then after the wedding I have to stop at Radcliffe Castle.”
“What’s there?”
“A woman named Anne Blair.”
Georgina stiffened. “An old flame?”
“No. She was a convict who mothered me in Australia, and I brought her back to her family. I’d like you to meet her, and I’d like her to meet you. She’ll like you.”
A person from his past? Someone besides Kit Roxbury? She thought she might enjoy that very much.
“I would love to meet Anne Blair,” she said.
“You’d have to pass through Gretna Green with me first. I have a price, remember?”
“Yes, I remember.”
