Page 27 of The Duke, My Rescue


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All she saw was a glimpse, but it was enough. He was upset.

“I… Are you all right?”

That wasn’t what she had meant to say. Georgiana didn’t know what his answer might be, nor what he might be willing to say. She dropped her hand to her side to focus on reading his closed expression.

Those dark green eyes of his flashed when he glanced up at her, and then he turned his face away. “Everything is fine.”

Except it wasn’t, and they both knew it. The only problem was that he couldn’t accept the truth. She frowned and moved a step forward. It made her think of similar occasions with Emma when her sister was upset but was too frustrated to talk. If only everyone would talk––then everything could be fixed.

“Your Grace…”

“We’re married, you may call me Owen.” His words were sharp and clipped. “But I assure you, all is well.”

She inhaled deeply. “Then what is the truth?”

Jerking his head up to look at her, he asked, “What truth?” Then he narrowed his gaze.

It was an intimidating expression, but she refused to be cowed.

She lifted her chin even as he stepped forward. “Were you eavesdropping on my conversation?”

“The door was open.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s acceptable to have bad manners.”

She pursed her lips. “I was on my way to the dining room to break my fast.”

But he gave a sharp shake of his head. “It’s in the other direction.”

“Blast.” She paused when she realized she’d said it aloud. Owen’s reaction was slight, but still suspicion flickered in his eyes. “Then I took a wrong turn. That’s not my fault, I haven’t been here long enough to get used to my surroundings. This wasn’t intentional, Owen.”

He nodded slowly, but his intense gaze never let up. “That’s right, it wasn’t intentional. You merely found your way over here to listen to a private conversation. You had no right. No right to listen in on a private matter. Should this happen again, I’ll––”

The scoff escaped her lips before she could help it.

Owen hesitated, but before he could say anthing else, she said, “You would punish your wife for moving about her own house? Tell me, Duke, what am I allowed to do?”

The sarcasm in her voice wasn’t lost on him.

Stepping forward, Owen loomed over her. He was more than upset now. He was angry. Although Georgiana found herself thinking his rage had more to do with others, she couldn’t help feeling intimidated. Her lips thinned.

“Do not,” he told her harshly, “ever do that again.”

And then he stepped around her, disappearing down the hall.

This left Georgiana standing alone in a yellow room with green curtains and faded artwork. She clasped her hands together and found them to be shaking. She bit her lip, listening to the thumping of her heart.

Something tickled her cheek. Hastily wiping her eye, she found her finger damp. A stray tear must have spilled over.

Georgiana shook her head. No, this had not upset her. It couldn’t have. It wasn’t like she cared about Owen or what he said to her or what he did to her. She couldn’t be bothered with him even if they were married.

“No,” she told the empty room. “I will not be upset like this. He shall not control me. Not my body, not my time, and certainly not my heart.”

With that, Georgiana sniffed and composed herself. She left the room with her head held high, turning back to find her way to the dining room. She would break her fast and send a message to Jean, though she had no idea what she might write to her sister.

I’ll have to talk with Owen some other time when he’s in a better mood. Or perhaps we shall become the type of couple who doesn’t ever talk or know what the other one is doing. Clearly, he doesn’t care about making this marriage work. He had not wished to marry. I shall do as I like, perhaps, and find a way to keep my independence.

Georgiana understood that women in London Society had their limits. But she refused to allow them to manage her. Instead,shewould manage them. She would manage the rest of her life however she saw fit.