“Because you don’t have a soul?” she retorted. “Or because you lost the bet you made about marrying?”
That was another rumor. He’d made a bet with a gypsy in his youth to marry the gypsy’s daughter, or else he would lose everything he cared for in this world. It made more sense than fighting the devil.
Georgiana searched his face in an effort to glimpse what he was trying to hide.
“Because I told you it’s dangerous. And you don’t have a key,” he replied, before locking the door. “Go now.”
Her mouth hung open in dismay, wondering why he had to be so stubborn. And handsome. But mostly stubborn and cold and unfeeling.
Whirling around, Georgiana huffed before taking her leave. She shouldn’t have come up there. Even if she wanted to understand her husband, this was clearly not the right place. The only problem was that she didn’t know if therewasa right place.
“Your Grace?”
She looked down the stairs to see Wentworth there. “Did a letter come?”
“Not yet,” he told her regretfully. “But you have a guest waiting for you in the front parlor—Lady Marjory Honeyfield.”
Her cousin.
Marjory was a head shorter and a year younger than Georgiana, but the closest friend Georgiana had aside from her sister and her maid. Having been busy at a house party, Marjory hadn’t been able to make it back in time for the wedding.
“Oh, wonderful!” Georgiana pushed back her concerns with the Duke to hurry down the steps and enter the parlor. “Marjory, you’re here!”
“I certainly am. I cannot believe you are!” They met on the couch and hugged. “Two weeks, and everything changed. How could you?”
Georgiana scoffed as she pulled back. “What makes you think it was my choice?”
“Then it wasn’t?”
“Father made me. How bad are the rumors? I haven’t left the house yet,” she added while moving to tug on the bell pull and order them tea. “I’m too nervous to even read the papers.”
Marjory tutted. She fiddled with her dark red curls before offering a hesitant smile. “They’re conflicting reports if that is any comfort. Some say Lord Egerton ran away when he saw you. Others said you conspired for the match, or that the Duke did when he saw your beauty. Another gossip rag said you two fell madly in love and insisted on breaking the first contract.”
Georgiana shook her head. “Balderdash,” she huffed.
“Then whatever happened? Do you at least love your husband?”
“I’m not certain I even like him,” she admitted.
Upon realizing she was getting carried away, she quickly told Marjory everything that had happened over the last week or so. It was such a relief to share her feelings with someone else.
Her cousin’s mouth hung open for a good part of it until they had tea in their hands. “I can hardly believe it! And yet he offered. He didn’t have to, you know, but the Duke offered to marry you.”
“More like demanded it,” Georgiana muttered.
“Is he cruel?”
“Certainly not.” She hesitated. “Well, not exactly. He’s… well, he isn’t kind. He is polite, but he is remarkably uncouth and stern. There is something about him that reminds me of my father. Maybe he too was once warmer before he got hurt. I get the feeling that he is… he is hiding behind some very tall walls.”
He offers so little in our conversations. Even that letter. I’ve never received something so simple and plain and unfeeling. There was no emotion behind it. And yet he is human, is he not? He must have emotions. I just cannot reach them.
“Perhaps you can climb those walls. Or do you want to?”
“I don’t know,” Georgiana admitted. “I just wish he would let me get to know him a little better. The man is such a mystery. This may be a marriage of convenience and nothing more, but I’ve hardly spoken to him for more than a minute or two at a time. I hardly know anything about him!”
Marjory nodded thoughtfully before asking, “What do you want to know?”
“I don’t…” Georgiana hesitated. “I suppose I should like to know enough about him to do away with the rumors. Sometimes it feels like the ton knows more about him than I do.”