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The Kiss

Page 23

by Sophia Nash


  Last night she had stared at the tiny locked chest in the glass house for a long time before opening it. This was where she kept Anthony’s few letters to her as well as a small, half-completed painting of Loe Pool that Quinn had painted. She had asked for it when he was about to discard it all those years ago in their youth.

  Then she’d taken off the Lover’s Eye brooch that everyone—except Rosamunde—assumed was of Anthony’s eye. She’d worked open the tiny secret catch behind it and touched the dark strands of hair inside one last time before shutting her eyes against the tears and placing the brooch on top of the painting. She’d locked the chest and put it inside the cabinet under the bench, all the way in the back corner beneath yet another pile of blankets. She doubted anyone even remembered that the bench opened.

  It was a good place to secret away dreams unfulfilled.

  Now Georgiana stood looking down at the lake house for many long minutes, the breeze playing with locks of her hair that had come undone.

  Good-bye, Penrose.

  Good-bye, Quinn.

  She would not come back. She had consciously made the decision to never return, not even for future harvest festivals or any other entertainment. She would see all her acquaintances in the neighboring countryside, but she would never set foot on Penrose property again. It was for her sanity.

  And so she’d said all her formal good-byes last night to Mrs. Killen and all the servants who worked in the great house. And she had tucked Fairleigh into her huge bed in the chamber adjacent to her father’s. That had been the very worst of all. She’d braided Fairleigh’s angel-like hair and kissed her cheek before the child had tugged her to lie on top of the bed with her. Fairleigh’s head had fit perfectly in the crook of her arm and her little form had snuggled against her. Georgiana had told her stories about Penrose until she fell asleep.

  And then Georgiana had said good-night to Ata and the other widows in the formal drawing room after dinner. It had been ridiculous, really. They all agreed it was not really good-bye. After all, they would remove to join her at Trehallow next week. Quinn had said not a word as he sat beside Grace.

  When she took her leave, he had merely escorted her to the terrace along with the rest of the ladies and brushed his lips against the back of her hand in good-bye. “I wish you much happiness, Georgiana,” he had said gently.

  “I must thank you again for your generosity in providing for my parents and me,” she had said, and bobbed a curtsy.

  “You know it’s Helston whom you should thank. He’s the one who found the properties and secured everything for your family,” he had said. “Well, then. I wish you safe journey.”

  She had nodded and all the ladies reached forward to embrace her, some of them giggling and murmuring good night.

  She hadn’t dared to look at Quinn again. She hadn’t been sure she could keep her careful façade in place. This was it. She would not see him again. She had reached behind her for the railing and once finding it, steadied herself and turned to dash down the steps into the evening, calling out a good night one last time.

  When she got past the arc of lantern light from the torches on the terrace garden, she had leaned against a hickory tree to catch her breath.

  Emotion had burned the back of her eyes as she looked back toward the terrace, only to find that all but two of the figures had returned indoors. Quinn and Grace were silhouetted against the bright candlelight past the glass-paneled French doors.

  Grace had reached up and stroked Quinn’s head, her fingers lingering on the back of his neck. Georgiana had a vivid memory of how soft his hair was near his collar. A moment later, the two figures had merged into one in the shadows. Georgiana had swallowed a sob and run blindly back to Little Roses, her leg aching.

  A tear threatened to cross the edge of her lower lashes as she remembered. She brushed at it with annoyance. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know what was going to happen. She was so very foolish. So foolish she had not truly prepared for this good-bye or for her future, she realized, looking at Loe Pool one last time.

  She’d not once gone to Trehallow since the day the duke handed her the deed. He had insisted she not go and he’d been so serious when he’d said it that she had not thought about going against his wishes. In truth, she had little curiosity.

  Trehallow was near St. Ives, well beyond the neighboring estates she had known all her life. Georgiana knew it would require a bit of work to restore it. And she knew the duke had already started some of the work. He had probably wanted to present her with a challenge to occupy her mind. But what the duke did not know was that she was tired of challenges.

  She was mortally tired, period.

  She just wanted peace.

  Deep down inside, she knew Trehallow would give it to her. And she was grateful. Every time she saw Luc St. Aubyn it was all she could do not to throw her arms around his dark, gruff figure and kiss him. She would be forever grateful to him and Rosamunde and Ata, if her hunch was correct. All of them had done this for her, and she had no way to repay them for their endless kindnesses. Kindnesses she did not deserve.

  Several hours later, the gratitude she felt for the duke and his family was increased tenfold.

  The carriage took a turn from the main road and someone—Luc, probably—rapped a cane from above—to draw their attention to the scene.

  “Papa,” Georgiana whispered, leaning forward in the plush carriage to touch her father’s knee while her mother dozed in the corner. “Look.”

  At the end of a very long drive, shaded by enormous, evenly spaced poplar trees, rested an ancient stone four-story great house. Two turrets, one crumbling, flanked the main portion.

  Georgiana swallowed. It was beyond anything she had imagined.

  It was so very beautiful.

  “What do you think?” her father asked thoughtfully.

  “I had no idea,” she whispered. “It’s too much.”

  “Yes,” he said, “but, then again, Helston warned that half is unlivable. It stood empty for so long because no one was willing to take on the time and expense to restore it.” Her father touched her hand. “Will you be up to the task?”

  “It’s a bit too late to back out now, don’t you think?” She laughed nervously.

  “That’s my girl,” her father said.

  Her mother’s eyes fluttered open. She looked out the window and was speechless for the first time in her life. “Oh Lordy. Why, ’tis almost as grand as Penrose.”

  The carriage lurched to a stop, and suddenly the small door opened and Luc’s dark face was peering in. “Come along now,” he said gruffly.

  “But,” Georgiana said, “shouldn’t we settle my parents at—”

  “No,” Luc said abruptly.

  Something was wrong.

  “Blast,” Luc said under his breath. “Look, I’ve never been any good at these sorts of things, and I can tell you’re about to ask a lot of questions, which I won’t answer. So, here it is. There is a group of ladies and gentlemen in the rear gardens and they are all waiting to surprise you.” He removed his hat and scratched his head before returning it to his head. “So act surprised, will you?”

  Georgiana turned to her parents. “Did you know about this?”

  Her father chuckled. “Quinn told me yesterday because he feared I would ruin it by suffering a seizure during the critical moment.”

  “Quinn?” She rearranged the folds of her gown. “He’s here?”

  “Yes.” Luc’s dark blue eyes bore into hers.

  “He arranged this?”

  “No, my dear,” Luc replied. “Grace arranged it. She and Ata invited your closest neighbors to come for tea and cakes for a welcoming party. You are to do nothing but enjoy yourselves and meet everyone for the next hour or so, and then I promise to make them all go away so you can get settled.”

  “But Father”—she turned to him—“you must be too tired for all of this. Perhaps you should—”

  “No, Daughter. I’ve had enough
coddling. I want to meet Mr. Washburton. He’s our closest neighbor and I understand he has bred a new type of sheep that produces very fine wool.”

  She looked from her parents to Luc. “And Fairleigh is here?”

  “Quinn had the devil of a time getting her to keep the secret.” Luc smiled. “Come along, then.”

  Georgiana played her part very admirably. And in the end she was very glad for the opportunity to meet all her neighbors. Ata, Grace, and Fairleigh graciously took on the roles of hostesses, ensuring everyone’s needs were tended to.

  No one knew how much it cost her to face Quinn again after she had made her proper good-byes and thought she would not have to see him again. Or worse, see Grace and Quinn together. But there they were, strolling the gardens arm in arm, stopping every so often to chat with guests. An orange tabby cat followed Quinn’s steps, threading itself between his boots each time he stopped. They were a mere few feet away now.

  Georgiana smiled despite herself. Quinn had always loved cats. Cats, on the other hand, had never appeared to like him—the only animal on this earth who did not seem to immediately take to him. He had suffered numerous scratches during their childhood to attest to that sad fact. At twelve, Quinn had renounced all felines. But it seemed this cat had not received the announcement.

  “What are you smiling about?” Miles Langdon accepted two glasses of lemonade from a footman and passed one to her.

  “That cat.”

  “Hmmm. I thought you were smiling because of your good fortune. Luc is a dashed good fellow for arranging all this for you. A fine brother-in-law indeed. Although I’m thinking you’re so grand now, I won’t ever be able to persuade you to elope to Gretna Green with me.”

  Georgiana smiled and noticed the strange expression that crossed Quinn’s features when she chanced to glance at him over Miles’s shoulder.

  “I don’t know,” she teased. “If you were willing to bring a large-enough fortune into the equation, or maybe if you would just promise to rebuild the turrets single-handedly, I’d consider it,” she said with a twitch to her lips.

  Miles was so busy choosing from a selection of cakes on the second footman’s tray that he ignored her comments.

  He turned and placed a delectable morsel in her gloved hand before popping two in quick succession into his mouth. “I understand these are your mother’s recipes. They’re absolutely divine.”

  “Careful, brother mine,” Rosamunde said, sidling up to Miles with Luc by her side. Each of them carried an infant. “I warned you earlier—you’re looking a bit thick about the middle.”

  Miles sputtered. “I most certainly am not!”

  “You know,” Rosamunde added, “I don’t think Georgiana fancies portly suitors.”

  “What did I tell you?” Miles turned to Georgiana and muttered, “Sisters…the bane of every gentleman’s existence. And I’m not allowed to retaliate if I want to still be considered a gentleman.”

  Luc smiled. “Unless you’re a duke. Dukes are allowed to do and say anything they please. They only answer—”

  “To the Prince Regent?” Miles interrupted.

  Georgiana giggled.

  Luc glared at Miles. “I was about to say that dukes only answer to duchesses.” He glanced at Rosamunde as his lips dropped to the top of Caro’s head. For a moment the duke’s eyes flared with a love so potent that it was almost painful to witness.

  What would it be like to have someone so devoted? Georgiana turned to Rosamunde just in time to catch the answering passionate glimmer in her expression.

  Miles sighed with exasperation. “Whatever happened to the sexes presenting a united front? Luc, you’re ruining everything.”

  Luc chuckled. “Perhaps you’ll see things differently when you marry.”

  A footman passed by with another tray of cakes and Miles looked after the tray longingly. “I suppose I will if my wife provides cakes such as these.” He winked at Georgiana. “I’ll be right back.” Miles trailed after the footman carrying the cakes.

  “Well,” Rosamunde said, switching Harry to her other shoulder, “if there was any doubt as to Miles’s soft spot, I think those cakes put it to rest.”

  Georgiana changed the subject. “Luc, I realize you don’t want my thanks, but I beg you to suffer through this. I had no idea Trehallow was quite this…this beautiful, or immense. Surely, the generous portion Quinn provided did not—”

  “As I told your father, Georgiana, you’ll be forced to give over the vast majority of the rents. That should more than make up the difference.”

  “But, the repairs. The enormous greenhouse, and I can see the new wood on the barns in the distance. Frankly, I’m terrified to see what you’ve done inside. We’ll never be able to repay you.” She bowed her head.

  “Ah,” he said, his expression darkening. “But you’ve forgotten to mention the new falcon mews, the horses, the oxen, chickens, the sheep, and the”—he cleared his throat—“bloody ocean that is being dug as we speak.” His eyes were half hooded.

  Her jaw had dropped. “What?” she whispered.

  “It should be done in the next month or so. I hope you won’t mind that there will be a small island in the center, much like a miniature Loe Pool.” He swore under his breath. “I was able to talk him out of the glass house in the center he was so intent on building. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Darling,” Rosamunde said to Luc softly, “I don’t think she can take much more.”

  “I’m sorry. You know gratitude always brings out the worst in me.”

  Rosamunde stroked his cheek. “And that is why I love you.”

  Luc cursed again under his breath and refused to look at Georgiana. “They need larger brimmed hats. The sun is too bright for Caro and Henry.” He sighed and then lifted his other child from his wife’s shoulder. “I’m going inside. I shall leave you to rectify this mess, Rosamunde. I’m done with it. Never should have agreed to this farce.”

  As Georgiana looked at Luc’s retreating back she caught sight of Quinn again, the cat at his heels just like a dog. Grace stood beside him, a smile on her lips, within a small circle of new friends. Quinn leaned down to scratch the cat’s ears and the orange tabby jumped into his arms.

  “He did it all,” Georgiana whispered to Rosamunde. “Oh God.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Rosamunde gently touched her shoulder. “He was determined to do it and Luc forbade me to tell you. Quinn was certain you would refuse it all if you knew. It appears he likes gratitude even less than my husband.”

  Georgiana’s throat closed and she couldn’t say a word—couldn’t move.

  “Oh, my dearest friend,” Rosamunde whispered sadly as she looked at her. “Come, take my arm. We’ll go to the greenhouse where there’s privacy. Can you walk? It’s only a little way. Shall I get Luc? You’re very pale. You’re not going to faint, are you? Oh, please don’t.”

  She forced herself to speak when panic laced Rosamunde’s words. “No, no. I’m perfectly fine.” She grasped Rosamunde’s arm and they walked very carefully toward the huge glass-paned greenhouse, which was more like a French-style giant orangerie.

  The beautiful space was empty save for the beginnings of a foundation of the plants Georgiana knew would take years to find. This would be her refuge. It was different from anything at Penrose—unlike the lake and mews he had arranged.

  Georgiana sank onto the nearest bench. She retrieved a handkerchief from her pocket and twisted it. “He’s always been so unbearably generous and kind. It’s what makes everything so difficult. I’ve never known a more honorable man, Rosamunde. And I fear”—she gulped—“no…I know I will never encounter another like him. No, you are not to say a word. I do not feel sorry for myself. It is a rare person who does not suffer unrequited love at least once in their life. And I am the luckiest woman alive. I will be living in the lap of luxury, and I have projects in front of me that will take up the rest of my life and longer.”

  When Rosamunde di
d not argue with her, Georgiana knew. She knew that even her best friend had given up hope of Georgiana ever securing Quinn’s love.

  “I am determined to make this estate the most profitable in all of Cornwall—if only to pay him back every last farthing. And I will work day and night to do it.” She retrieved the stub of a pencil and a list from her other pocket and tried hard to force back her emotions. She would not burden Rosamunde any longer.

  In the long pause that followed, Rosamunde laid her hand on Georgiana’s shoulder and patted it. “And you will do it too.”

  She felt her friend’s fingers trail around her waist and then tug her into an embrace. “Georgiana, I hate to tell you this now, but there might not be another moment of privacy between us,” she whispered into her ear. “Grace told me last night that Quinn has agreed to accompany her to the Duchess of Kendale’s house party the week after next.”

  The list fluttered from her fingers.

  She was so numb she barely felt Rosamunde tugging her closer. “You must prepare yourself. It is certain he will make a betrothal announcement before they leave.”

  Georgiana withdrew from Rosamunde’s embrace and forced a smile to her face. “It’s all right, you know. It will be a relief almost. I’ve been waiting for it.”

  “I’m glad Ata, Sarah, and Elizabeth are coming to stay here. And Fairleigh will want to come too, when Quinn and Grace go to Kendale.”

  “I should be very happy to have her with me,” Georgiana whispered and looked down at her hands.

  “Georgiana, you are not to pretend with me. I am guessing you would prefer not to see Quinn. But fear not on that point. I don’t know how or when, but a miracle occurred sometime during the last month. Luc and Quinn have formed a friendship. And I will make sure it’s Luc who brings Fairleigh to you since Amberley is so close by.”

  “I’m so glad Trehallow is such an easy distance,” Georgiana returned. “You are the very best friend in the world, Rosamunde. I hope I will always deserve your friendship.”

 

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