by Jilian Rouge
Although Rafe silently appreciated Godwin’s active concern for Georgie’s safety, he was sure that his very proper butler would be displeased if he knew what plans he had in store for his absentee wife. With a wave of his hand, Rafe dismissed Godwin, quickly forming plans to win back his wife at any cost. An idea bloomed suddenly in his mind—one that would involve careful maneuvering and manipulation on his part. But he was confident that Georgie would see no other alternative than to acquiesce to his demands, not when he would make her offer she cannot refuse.
…
As promised, Georgie arrived at Rue’s doorstep the following day and was happily surprised to see Ernest pull up the drive in his own carriage. Tired as she was, Georgie waved at him with a happy smile and waited for him to alight before closing the distance between them.
With a doff of his hat, Ernest greeted, “Hello, little sister. Surprised to see me, even after we both promised Rue a visit?”
“Hello, to you, too. And no, not surprised. I just did not expect for the both of us to arrive at the same time.”
“Why? Have I ruined your chance for a female-only talk with Rue?”
Swatting at his sleeve, she answered cheekily, “You know as well as I do, that we never exclude you out of those conversations.”
Before he could voice a reply, the door opened to reveal Rue who rushed at them both and caught one of their hands in one of hers. In her boisterous way, Rue chirped out, “I’m so glad the both of you are here! I have been dying to share with you everything that has happened since we saw each other last!”
Above both of the ladies’ heads, Ernest murmured teasingly, “And a few pages in the form of a letter wouldn’t have sufficed?”
Georgie glowered at her brother who noted the look in her eye as the same one she used right before she kicked him in the shin. Fortunately for Ernest, she had far outgrown such childish reactions to his teasing, but her look of warning was duly received and acknowledged. Ernest gave a deliberate throat-clearing noise that signaled his discomfort, while Georgie widened her eyes at him threateningly. Rue hadn’t noticed the exchanged looks between the siblings and continued with enthusiasm to usher them inside.
Both Montagus were expected to stay until the end of the week, and Rue saw them both promptly settled in their separate rooms. The trio met soon after in a drawing room on an upper floor that was usually reserved for family only. With trays of food and a large pot of tea for refreshment available for her guests, Rue fell into her long tale of everything they had missed when they had left Ravenscar in the middle of the Midsummer ball.
Georgie gasped at the revelation leading up to poor Miss Amelia Stanhope’s sorry end and felt a large dose of sympathy for the dead woman. It was an extraordinary tale that had her dumbstruck at its mindboggling twists and turns. And no matter which way she examined Rue’s story, there seemed to have been no simple way to prevent the downward spiral that was Amelia’s life.
“That’s the saddest, darkest thing I’ve ever heard,” finished Rue. “And I haven’t heard from Alex since. We’ve seen each other at Amelia’s funeral, but there wasn’t a chance for either of us to talk.”
At the sight of Rue’s forlorn expression, Ernest said encouragingly, “I’m sure the man is simply driven to distraction with thoughts of you and is only seeing to his duty as head of the family before he comes to see you.” However, the assurance of his words was decreased significantly in effect by the licking of his fingers, having just polished off his third sandwich.
Georgie, appalled at his lack of manners, smacked him with a bolster pillow, the nearest thing to hand. “That’s disgusting! Mind your manners, you oaf!” she reprimanded. “How Mama let you continue breathing past birth is beyond me!”
Rue stifled a snicker behind a small hand, knowing better than to encourage either of them with a show of amusement. She was used to their bickering, and while it really wasn’t well done of Georgie to hit her brother with a cushion, she rather enjoyed their otherwise affable bickering.
A spate of arguing ensued that was generally harmless as none of their barbs were designed to hurt the other, but Rue thankfully heaved a sigh of relief when her butler appeared at her side. Both Georgie and Ernest paused in their squabbling to listen to what he had come to announce.
“Milady,” he addressed Rue, “there is a gentlemen caller, Captain Nicholas Belhaven, who has just arrived to see your father. Only his lordship has not yet arrived back from town but should be due back within the hour. Would it be unseemly for him to be received here instead of waiting in your father’s office?”
“Not unseemly at all, Roberts. Send him here and, er, send for another tray of food as well as a fresh pot of tea,” Rue instructed, having briefly glanced at the much-dwindled supply of food. With a nod in acknowledgment, Roberts left the room to retrieve their new guest.
Of course, at the mention of Nicholas’ name, Georgie’s ears had perked up in interest. She had never told Rue of her almost life-long attraction to the man, mostly due to her own embarrassment that after all these years had led her nowhere. But with the complication of Rafe’s return and his determination to keep her as his wife, any dreams she might have harbored for Nicholas seemed just beyond her reach.
Soon enough, Georgie was treated to the refreshing presence that was Nicholas Belhaven. As he swept confidently through the drawing room, Georgie couldn’t help but make an automatic assessment and comparison between this man she had always wanted against the man she was actually connected to. Recalling her last encounter with Rafe, Georgie wondered if Nicholas could inspire and enrapture her with the same intense pleasure that Rafe seemed to effortlessly draw from her. She believed that because she’d held Nicholas in affection for most of her life that of course he could—once he realized that they were meant for each other.
Nicholas greeted Rue with a small bow. “I regret that I’m intruding, Lady Rumina. Your father and I agreed to meet today, but it seems I’ve arrived earlier than I was expected.”
“There’s no intrusion,” Rue assured him, ever the gracious host. “Please join us for refreshment before my father arrives, and I believe you already know Lord Reddington and his sister, Lady Georgina.” Nodding at Ernest first, then Georgie in acknowledgment, Nicholas flashed both of them an easy smile. In answer, Ernest nodded back while George beamed back at him with an easygoing smile of her own.
Seating himself in a chair closest to Georgie, Georgie noted that his closeness did not result in the familiar fluttering of butterflies within her as it used to. Then again, her last encounter with Rafe was enough to overshadow anything else, including the pleasure of enjoying Nicholas’ company. Just the same, Nicholas’ presence was always a comforting one, and it was simply easy for her to relax around him.
“Nicholas! It’s such a surprise to run into you while in Rue’s drawing room of all places!” Georgie exclaimed pleasantly.
Falling back into their easy camaraderie of days past, Nicholas replied, “And to think that I would have missed seeing you if I had chosen to come tomorrow instead of today.”
Ernest rolled his eyes at her from behind Nicholas’ head, but Georgie ignored him. “Any news from home?”
“Nothing worthy of note other than the fact that my mother is working feverishly to ensure her garden outshines that of Lady Frobisher,” Nicholas said dryly. Nicholas’ mother, the Countess of Bridgingham, was known for carrying an ongoing ‘friendly’ rivalry with their neighbor, Lady Chenoweth. As a result, their respective flower gardens were always the talk of their little town, as was their constant competitive streak.
Georgie mildly nodded at his remark, wanting to bring the conversation to something more her speed. “You mentioned you were here to see Rue’s father, is that right?”
“Yes, I’ve finally decided to purchase one of Lord Abelard’s thoroughbreds for my own stable.”
Georgie, a great admirer of horses, had always obsessed over the ones stabled here on the Abelard estate. Wit
h eyes wide in wonder, she exclaimed, “Please tell me you didn’t decide on Prometheus! He is singularly the cream of the crop among Lord Abelard’s horses and I absolutely adore him!”
His wide grin told Georgie everything. With an exaggerated sigh, Georgie admonished, “If I had known you were planning on acquiring Prometheus, I would have taken him for one last ride before he became yours.”
“What’s to stop you from doing it now? I haven’t acquired him yet,” Nicholas informed her genially, with a twinkle in his eye. “And even after Prometheus becomes mine, I would still allow you the pleasure of riding him whenever you come to visit.”
Georgie glowed at his generous offer; her love for Lord Abelard’s majestic stallion had begun the moment she had met the horse personally a few years ago. Her visits with Rue in the past had always included at least one clandestine ride with him through the rolling hills of Anthropshire, but mostly when Lord Abelard wasn’t in residence.
Clutching at his sleeve, she beamed at him, “I will hold you to that. Then, I will warn you in advance: I may darken your door more often than not for Prometheus’ sake.”
Nicholas answered soberly, “I should hope that we are friends enough for your visits to include more than just Prometheus. Besides, I have something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Then, he gently laid a hand over the one Georgie had placed on his elbow. Georgie froze as she peered into his unwavering gaze, wondering at the meaning behind those words. She could only puzzle at the enigmatic expression painted across his features.
Before she could ask after his meaning, the sound of bootheels crashing angrily across the wood floors declared their owner’s approach. Roberts could also be heard following after the unannounced newcomer, protesting against the intrusion. Georgie cringed inwardly as she and everyone present heard Rafe’s familiar voice boom out, “Where is my wife?!”
12
Georgie, unaware that she suddenly became the focus of two surprised gazes, had her own focus centered on the man darkening the drawing room entry. She gasped sharply at the ferocity she found in Rafe’s expression, shivering inwardly at the savage intensity of such a gaze. Only, Rafe wasn’t looking at her; his attention was currently fixated on the man standing protectively close next to her.
Rafe saw nothing but the object of his wife’s affections standing too close to her for his liking. Jealousy overruled all common sense, and he barely restrained himself from pummeling the man into the carpet. He didn’t care if there was an audience to witness the brand of savagery he wished to bestow on Belhaven, but when it came to Georgie, his first thought of Mine had his inner barbarian come rushing to the fore.
Georgie observed that Rafe seemed to dwarf Nicholas in size; his bristling anger enlarging his already muscular form. As Nicholas took a wary step back, Georgie felt almost exasperated with him for being intimidated by Rafe’s show of exaggerated masculinity.
Before addressing her, Rafe coldly acknowledged Nicholas, “Belhaven. I wish I could say it’s a pleasure to see you. Forgive me, but seeing as you are in close proximity of my wife, I am unable to shore up such a sentiment.” The possessiveness in Rafe’s tone was unmistakable to everyone present, and Georgie frowned at his barely-veiled rudeness.
From a side glance at Rue, Georgie knew her friend was shocked further by the animosity behind Rafe’s words. That is, if Rue wasn’t already shocked by the confirmation that Georgie and Rafe were married. As for Ernest, he had crept closer to her side, ready to defend her if Rafe dared to malign her, too. Bless his loyal heart, but Georgie found it unnecessary that her brother feel the need to fight her battles for her.
Ernest moved to block Rafe from approaching closer and cried, “This is outrageous, Rafe! You can’t just barge in our friend’s home and make demands of my sister!”
Wanting to avoid what would most likely end in a brawl, Georgie stepped forward to face Rafe head-on, and proclaimed, “You are being insufferably rude. If you needed to speak with me, you could have easily asked me to step out with you for a private word.”
Rafe stared at her, sardonically raising a brow. “Oh? Then, why have I had to chase you all the way here in order for me to have a word?” His lip positively curled, an air of danger emanating heavily from him. Georgie instinctively refrained from answering. If she did, she was sure he would erupt in a fury, his temper barely contained as it was.
Turning briefly to the three astonished people in the room, Georgie calmly said, “Please excuse us. I must have a word with my husband.” With her head held high, she brushed past Rafe to exit the drawing room, expecting him to follow behind. She refused to turn her head to see if he would, but he didn’t disappoint once she heard his footsteps close the distance between them.
With purpose, she led him through a side door that led into the Abelard orangery. Closing the door behind them, Rafe strode towards Georgie, aware that she was also fuming at him as much as he was at her. Before he could begin, Georgie blasted him, “How dare you embarrass me in such a manner! Rue had no idea of our marriage and I had intended to keep it that way. And you had no right to be so rude to Nicholas!”
“And is it my fault that you’ve conveniently set aside such information?” he shot back. “It seems that your reason for doing so has everything to do with Belhaven, doesn’t it?” His jealousy had him almost insane, and without waiting for an answer, he stated, point-blank, “No court will grant you a divorce, not when our marriage has already been consummated. And unfortunately, it’s my word over yours in such a case as this, no matter how much you protest the opposite.”
When she shook her head in denial, he grabbed a hold of her upper arms to give her a small shake. “Do you hear what I’m telling you?! You can’t have Belhaven, not when you are still tied to me legally!” She flinched at his raised voice but said nothing. Heartbeats of silence stretched between them. Then, with his head bowed in defeat, he pleaded, “Why? Haven’t I already paid for my sins against you? Must I endure life alone without you? I can’t bear it.”
Georgie quaked at the agony enshrouding his entirety, and she almost caved into changing her mind about him, about them. But she had good reason to keep herself apart from him. She had promised herself to never again be subjected to such pain again. Steeling herself, she was doubly determined to show him that their marriage had been ill-fated from the beginning.
But she wasn’t given the chance to show him when he caught her to him suddenly, catching her by surprise. She gave a little squeak as he brought her flush against his chest, not expecting the scent of him, the heat of his body to cloud her senses.
Suddenly, Rafe encapsulated her mouth with his, and Georgie could practically taste his heartache in his kiss. Although he ravished her mouth with the force of his passion, Georgie had never before been kissed with such reverence and feeling. She couldn’t contain her own response, one that matched his, and she found herself giving in to the stormy passion within his embrace. She had always known that passion between them had never been the problem; the problem for her, however, lay in her inability to remain immune to it.
Sobering quickly, Georgie stepped back from his grip, and he stared at her remorsefully as the silence remained stretched between them. At the moment she broke their feverish contact, Rafe seemed to lock down every muscle, as if steel rods had been injected into his limbs, straightening his posture to his full height. Georgie noticed that the look of defeat had been wiped from his handsome face and was now replaced with ramrod determination. A steely glint flashed in his gaze, when only moments before they had been windows to the vulnerable man he was underneath that capable and strong exterior.
In a business-like tone, he said, “I wished to avoid doing this, but you give me no other choice, firecracker.” His nickname for her, which he typically used in a teasing tone, sounded hollow and impersonal to her now, and she mourned a little at the lack of that small touch of familiarity.
Warily, she stated carefully, “I don’t know what you mean. What do you m
ean to do?”
Rafe smiled at her in a way that had her imagining what a pirate must look like before sending a poor soul to walk the plank. “I have a proposition for you. I realize I can’t sway your feelings in my favor, and I have had nothing but time to think on the way here to allow us both what we want.”
Narrowing her eyes at him, she said, “What did you have in mind?”
Absentmindedly, he strolled over to a composition of exotic flowers, artfully arranged, and bent to inhale their scent. Without looking at her, he asked, “You want a divorce, correct?”
“Yes,” she said, stretching the word, unsure of what he was up to. Nor was she sure that she would like what he was going to propose.
“Then, my proposition is this: I will grant you a divorce after a fortnight’s time, but only if you meet my conditions.” Georgie half-expected that he would demand something in return, and she turned her hand in a circular fashion in his direction, motioning for him to continue.
