by Rebecca King
“Eating.” As if to prove her point she crunched loudly on the crisp sweetness of the apple and began to munch.
“Can you come down for a minute so we can talk?”
“Nope,” she replied unconcernedly.
Determined not to give up, Will tried again, hoping to instil common sense into her.
“What do you intend to do if the magistrate sees you?”
Georgiana shrugged. “There is no reason why he should see me. If he does, what is he going to see, someone in a tree munching an apple? It is not illegal. Of course, he would see you talking to a tree. It is hardly the crime of the century either way so I am sure he won’t pay all that much attention.”
“It depends on whose tree it is,” Will sighed. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look up here? You are a grown woman for Heaven’s sake.”
“Do you realise how ridiculous you look talking to a tree?” Georgiana retorted without missing a beat.
Will mentally cursed and had to concede that she had a point. He struggled to contain his disbelief that she was truly up a tree.
“Are you going to come down?”
“No.”
Georgiana continued to munch on her apple and tried to ignore just how handsome he looked standing amongst the long grass. He was an incredibly tall, with dark brown hair and sea green eyes which were simply mesmerising. Together with his powerfully muscled thighs and broad shoulders, he was the epitome of masculinity. He was a man who was aware of his position in the world and wasn’t afraid to use it to his advantage whenever he needed to. Most of the women of his acquaintance usually swooned and simpered whenever they were in his company, especially when he smiled at them. He tried one of those devastating smiles on her now.
Georgiana, though, was beyond all of that now and made no attempt to smile back. Instead, she glared down at him and bit down into her delicious fruit with a loud and very unladylike crunch.
“I am not going anywhere,” Will declared somewhat pompously, and folded his arms as if to prove it.
Georgiana shrugged and stared down at the apple core while she tried to decide what to do now. She might be able to wait for him to leave, but the rough bark of the tree was already digging into the tender flesh of her bottom and was darned uncomfortable, and her toes had gone numb. She had to get down.
She studied the branches below her and mentally plotted. Without giving much thought to what she was doing she began to clamber down the tree in much the same way she had climbed it.
Will stared at her in disbelief, mesmerised by the wanton display of lithe grace as she clambered effortlessly from one branch to another. Once or twice he had the briefest flash of the bare skin of her thighs and was swamped with the memories of her foray into skinny dipping. He began to wonder if she was intentionally trying to drive him out of his mind but refused to turn his back–he daren’t risk it this time in case she fell.
“Good God, you are going to break your neck,” he grumbled as he eyed the distance she intended to drop. When Georgiana let go of the branch anyway he lunged forward to try to catch her before she slammed painfully into the ground.
Georgiana had the sensation of falling. To her horror, she realised that the ground was further away than she had anticipated. Her instinctive cry of alarm was stifled when she found herself caught firmly in Will’s strong grip.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, trying to ignore the fact that she was clinging desperately to his shoulders.
“Saving you from breaking your foolish neck,” he snapped dryly as he lowered her to the floor.
Georgiana stared up at him. In spite of her best effort, she was drawn into the depths of his wonderful sea-green eyes. Something shifted between them–was it the air? Was it anything to do with the tight knot of nervous tension that started to form deep within the pit of her belly? Or the wild flurry of awareness that shimmered through her and drew forth the bittersweet memories of the last time she had been this close to him? Whatever it was, she tried desperately to blank it out because it made her thoughts all muddled.
Will stared at her. She had only been in the village for a matter of a few weeks yet already the changes her time away had wrought upon her were visible. Her cheeks were flushed a dainty pink that emphasised the brilliant sparkle of her wonderful eyes. As if to emphasise her beauty, her once gaunt frame had filled out into womanly curves that brought about maturity that was simply enthralling.
He didn’t remove his hands from her waist and put some distance between them. He should, but was lost to everything but the sensation of having her in his arms again. It was stunning to have the same invisible connection to her slam into him with shocking force. He realised then that he had wanted–needed-to experience it again just to make sure it hadn’t been a figment of his wayward imagination. Now that it was there, he had no idea what on earth he should do about it.
He wasn’t usually a tactile person, especially with the women he usually bedded. He would consider himself more a love them and leave them type of person. The other, more marriageable women of his acquaintance were kept at a very firm, very polite distance. He had never had this particular need to be around any other woman and certainly never been driven to hold any before in the way he did Georgiana. The way he felt when she was before him, next to him, or with him, had nothing to do with comfort or support. Most of the time he just enjoyed being in her company. The feelings surging through him right now were considerably sharper, and purely sexual.
He wanted her. It was as simple as that.
Inevitably, the longer they stood together the more the invisible cord of tension wound around them making it impossible for either of them to step away from temptation. It was impossible to release her. She couldn’t force herself to step backward, out of his embrace. So they remained where they were, frozen in time and place, lost to the rest of the world around them.
“Will,” she whispered hesitantly.
She had no idea what she was asking him for; to kiss her again maybe? To release her and remember who they were; where they were? To show her in some way–any way–that he felt the same way toward her as she still did about him?
“Georgiana,” he murmured huskily as he fell into the depths of her lambent gaze.
Will slowly lowered his head. At the same time, his arms tightened, tugging her infinitesimally closer. His lips hovered tantalisingly against hers for a moment before something suddenly made him stop. Rather than kiss her as she quite evidently wanted, he froze. His eyes widened as he stared at her and watched that flickering flame of desire slowly die in the depths of her horrified gaze.
Georgiana looked up at him and saw regret, concern, and something else she was unable to identify staring down at her.
Will sucked in a fortifying breath and dropped his arms at the same time that he took several steps way. He glanced around them in disgust, but was angry at himself for having forgotten who he was, who she was, and why they were there.
“I can’t do this,” Will whispered, mindful of the mess he had left his parents to try to resolve at home. “I am supposed to marry Penelope Smedgrove.”
“I must go,” Georgiana replied, trying hard to make her voice as devoid of life as possible.
She didn’t bother to wait to see if he intended to accompany her. She picked her shawl off the floor and retraced her steps to Ruth’s house. When she glanced back, she saw the same cold, arrogantly polite disinterest on his handsome features that she had seen before in her father’s study, and cursed herself for her own foolishness.
“Hello, my dear,” Mr Parker said jovially.
Georgiana jerked when he appeared beside her. She looked at him apologetically and willed herself to calm down.
“I am sorry, I didn’t see you,” she whispered hollowly.
Mr Parker frowned when he looked into her face. “What on earth is wrong?” he asked, glancing around them for the cause of her distress. The only person out on this fine morning was a young man st
alking toward them with an equally dark scowl on his face.
Mr Parker glanced at Georgiana warily.
“It’s Will, Mr Parker,” Georgiana whispered when she read the question in Mr Parker’s eyes.
“Call me Henry,” he suggested kindly.
“Henry,” she repeated after a moment’s hesitation.
Henry nodded to the man behind them. “The Will?”
Georgiana nodded. “There is only one.”
Henry studied Will and held his elbow out. “Let me escort you home so you don’t get bothered again. Is Ruth at home?”
“She should be back by now, yes,” Georgiana replied gratefully as she took his elbow. At least she hoped Ruth was back at the house.
“Then let us get you back there,” Henry suggested. “I didn’t realise he had arrived.”
Georgiana nodded. “Just this morning, I suspect. He must have spoken to my friend in Cranbury, Theresa. I told her of my plans the afternoon before I left.”
“Well, it was going to happen,” he sighed.
“I suppose.”
“Calm down,” Henry advised as he patted the back of her hand where it rested on his arm. “He is keeping his distance behind us but not attempting to catch up.”
“Good. I hope he goes to Hades,” she whispered tearfully.
“I am sure you don’t mean that,” Mr Parker replied.
“I do. I really, really do.” But she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t.
“Good morning,” a deep voice suddenly boomed at them.
“Good morning, my Lord. How are you today?” Henry called to a tall, resplendent gentleman seated high atop a very modern, and extremely expensive, curricle.
“I am enjoying this sunshine, Mr Parker. I see your day is bright and beautiful,” he declared with a nod toward Georgiana.
Before Henry could reply, the man on the curricle jumped down and joined them on the pavement. He bowed politely at Georgiana who bobbed a curtsey.
“Good morning,” the stranger murmured softly, his eyes locked with hers. “I have to say that I wasn’t informed we had such delectable beauty in the village, Mr Parker.”
“Have you not been informed that Miss Bentley’s niece has come to stay with her? It is all about the village at the moment. Of course, I am sure that most people are merely arrested by the beauty.” There was a slight hint of teasing in his voice that made Georgiana blush.
She laughingly tapped his arm. “You are such a tease,” she chastised.
“Please allow me to introduce Lord Appledore,” Henry murmured obligingly.
“Simeon Frazeley-Jones, at your service,” Simeon declared. “Please call me Simeon.”
“Oh, I can’t do that,” Georgiana replied, arrested by the openness in the man’s demeanour, and the teasing smile.
“I insist upon it. Every one of my acquaintance does,” he assured her.
“Then please call me Georgiana.”
“Miss Georgiana,” Henry corrected.
Georgiana nodded and watched Simeon smile at Henry. Henry looked a bit startled for a moment, as though this wasn’t a commonplace occurrence, but Georgiana didn’t think to question it.
“Miss Georgiana it is then,” Simeon murmured. He bowed low again, his eyes holding hers. “I hope it won’t be too long before I see you again.”
“I am here for a while so I am sure our paths will cross at some point,” Georgiana murmured politely.
“Well, I shall look forward to it. Meantime, I have to take my horse to the farriers so I will take my leave of you and bid you both a very good day.” With that, he climbed aboard his curricle and doffed his imaginary cap at them before he rumbled away.
“What a pleasant gentleman,” Georgiana murmured as she watched him turn the corner at the end of the street and disappear from sight.
“Yes, he is,” Henry murmured thoughtfully. “He is indeed.”
Georgiana threw him a sharp glance. There was something in his voice that warned her that his meaning was far different to his words.
“Isn’t he?”
Henry considered how to answer for a moment. “You need to consider a few facts about our local Lord, my dear. He is four and thirty yet never wed. He hasn’t earned his reputation for being a rogue without reason. While he has never done anything against any of the locals to cause anybody any alarm, his intentions towards women can only be considered as questionable.” He looked at her meaningfully. “There is gossip, you understand, and it is reported to be more than idle speculation.”
Georgiana nodded but hadn’t got a clue what he was talking about. There was clearly rumour about the local Lord, but nothing had been proven–but what on earth could such a charming gentleman have done? It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but she didn’t. She had just been warned about the Lord that is all. She needed to heed that warning until she had learned a little more about him.
“Thank you,” she murmured quietly.
“You are welcome, my dear,” Henry said, and allowed a companionable silence to settle between them.
Georgiana knew Henry was right to warn her. The last thing she needed was another problematic gentleman on her hands. Will was bad enough.
As she passed through the gate into Ruth’s front garden she glanced down the road behind them. It was more worrying than reassuring to note that Will had simply vanished. Where had he gone? More importantly, when would he reappear?
CHAPTER TEN
An hour later, Georgiana was making tea in the kitchen when knocking on the front door drew her attention. She refused to answer it because she had no intention of having another confrontation with Will right now. She was all alone in the house. Ruth was still taking tea with her friend. The last thing Georgiana needed right now was her world shaken any more.
“Go away,” she mumbled beneath her breath as she finished making tea and began to arrange everything on a tray.
Thankfully, after several minutes of pounding, silence settled over the house once more. Determined to sit in peace while she savoured her tea, she took a seat amidst the plant-infested conservatory and contemplated her current predicament. She refused to spend her entire day hiding in the conservatory. She was going to have to face him but hopefully, not until she had decided what to say to him to make him realise she wasn’t going back with him.
That was why he was here; she had no doubt about that. He had no interest in how she was, or what she had been doing, or if she was happy and had everything she needed.
“He is here because of what he wants,” she sighed. “And it isn’t me as a person. It is me as a being that needs to be returned to its keepers.”
She was aware she was being harsh but at that moment but was so frustrated with everything that she couldn’t help herself. If she thought the hurt she had endured in her father’s study had been bad, it was nothing when compared to the veritable smack in the face he had dealt her beneath the apple tree. His regret was stamped all over him. She had to wonder, if he found her so unappealing, why he had moved toward her in the first place. It was confusing. It was frustrating. It was something she would never get answers to until she discussed it with him, and that was something she would never do.
“I can’t outrun this,” she whispered.
She only had to think about him and her world turned turbulent. To have him before her drew forth all the feelings, doubts, and fears her life in Cranbury had brought her. It was clear now that although she had physically moved, she hadn’t been able to outrun her emotions–she had carried them with her.
“It would help if I don’t have to see him anymore. At least then I can try to put him out of my mind for good,” she whispered morosely. Strangely, niggling doubts began to churn that warned her she might never be able to do that.
Will stalked to the back of the house, a dark scowl on his face. She was in. He had watched that elderly gentleman escort her through the door only ten minutes ago. The almost proprietorial way the gentleman had hovered over her was
deeply concerning, and something Will had not expected to see. The thought of a man sniffing around someone as kind and beautiful as Georgiana, especially someone so old, bothered him. But, it wasn’t as disturbing as the sight of the gentleman on the curricle fawning all over her. He was someone Will didn’t want anywhere near Georgiana, mainly because he had ‘rogue’ stamped all over him.
Frustrated at Georgiana’s stubbornness, Will lifted his hand to knock on the back door.
“Might I make a suggestion?” Henry Parker offered quietly from behind him.
Will spun on his heel and turned a glare on the elderly gentleman standing just a few feet away. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even realised he was no longer alone.
“Let me guess,” Will drawled sarcastically. “Leave her alone?”
Henry nodded. “I do believe that the lady has made it quite clear she has no wish to speak with you. You won’t get what you want if you pester her. She has decided to live here with her aunt. Go home, back to Cranbury, and live your life. Whatever duty you have to her family has been carried out to the best of your ability. If she doesn’t wish to comply with their demands, respect her decision.”
“I don’t see how this has anything to do with you,” Will protested, his anger burning at the set-down he had just received. He wanted to ask the man if he was aware who he was talking to but suspected that in an out of the way place like this he probably hadn’t ever heard of the Abrams family.
“I understand that you are no relation either so the same applies to you,” Henry replied sternly. “Whatever your connections are to the family I understand it is to her brothers, not to her. It is highly inappropriate for you to come here and start to hound the woman. Why, one might believe that there is more behind your behaviour than mere concern for a family friend.”
Henry allowed a thoughtful silence to settle for a moment to give the man time to consider that. He suspected from the lack of protest that he had given Will plenty to think about and didn’t push.
“Georgiana is as good as family to me,” Will said coldly.
