Never before had he shown such rage toward someone. Even with his uncle, he managed to restrain himself. But he knew how it feels to be helpless, and he had seen Georgiana trapped there. Something had to be done.
She reached him in a few steps and took his hand. He glanced down to see it shaking between her gloved hands.
She heard what I said. Not just my threat, but my promise to protect her.
“It’s been quite a long night,” Georgiana said in a measured tone. Her eyes searched his. Not with distrust or fear, he was surprised to find, but with gratitude. “I’m afraid I find myself quite tired. Why don’t we retire a little early tonight?”
“Are you certain?” he asked hoarsely.
“Quite certain.”
Offering a small smile, she nodded before tugging him away. Instead of going back inside to exit through the front door, she led him down the terrace and through the gardens toward a side exit.
Neither of them said a word.
It didn’t take long for them to find their carriage, since there was no queue yet. Folks wouldn’t start departing the ball until another hour or two had passed. Still, the hour was late compared to the usual country hours.
Owen blamed his silence on that as they climbed into the carriage and drove home. Across from him, Georgiana didn’t seem inclined to speak either. She looked through a slit in the curtains with a contemplative look, moonlight streaming across her face.
Soon, they had arrived back home. Owen climbed out first to help Georgiana down. He was out of the carriage and turning toward his wife when he caught sight of something on the edge of the drive.
Another carriage. He furrowed his brow. It didn’t look familiar. There were no colors or crests. Not quite a yellow hackney, but surely it belonged to someone. He glanced at the footman stepping out of the house and heading toward them––the servants would know about the carriage.
As for Georgiana, Owen blocked her view of the carriage as she descended.
“Thank you,” she murmured to the footman who had brought a parasol. A light sprinkle had started during their journey home. She accepted the coverage while sticking close to Owen.
They were home. That was what mattered now.
CHAPTER25
Home was a strange concept to Georgiana as of late. But she found herself slowly becoming more accustomed to it. Maybe she wasn’t as familiar with the location as she hoped to be, but she found it in the little things.
Like how Owen might compliment the way she redecorated a room. How the servants often knew how to help her before she had to speak up. How comfortable her living space was becoming. How Owen danced with her. How he helped out of the carriage, even.
It is quickly becoming an obsessive thing, these regular thoughts of my husband. Surely a lady doesn’t think of her man quite so frequently. And yet I cannot help but enjoy it. Enjoy him. After what happened tonight…
Georgiana’s heart skipped a beat when Owen helped her out of the carriage. His grip on her hand was firm. When his thumb brushed against her knuckles, her breath caught in her chest. Yet, he hardly looked her way, and she wondered if he even knew what he had done.
“Thank you, Owen,” she said softly, before turning to the footman who brought her an umbrella. “Thank you.”
Only a few rain drops sprinkled down on her. Then there was coverage. It darkened the night sky further. That disappointed her, though she tried not to feel that way. The evening was over. She was glad of it, too. More than enough had happened there.
Home was where she wished to be. With her husband, Georgiana noted, even though he wasn’t even looking her way.
Then he turned to her. There was something in his eyes that made her hesitate. She wanted to ask what was on his mind, but she was pulled in the other direction as the footman, David, nodded and talked to her. “Your Grace, heating pans are being placed in the bed for you.”
“Ah, yes. Of course, thank you.” Georgiana hesitated as she looked back at her husband. “Shall we?”
“Hm?” Owen blinked several times. “Ah, yes. Let us go in.”
For a moment, she was ready to ask him what was the problem. But she pressed her lips together. Didn’t she already know?
Thinking back to the Viscount, she dropped her gaze. The less time spent thinking about him, the better.
The hour was late. It had been a long night. She was managing well after what had happened that evening, and she didn’t want to push herself or Owen. Neither of them spoke on their way inside. Wentworth and David attended to them, taking their coats and Owen’s hat. The items had come with them from the carriage, much earlier.
Once their outer garments were removed, Owen and Georgiana made for the stairs. Owen grabbed a lamp on the way, then offered her his other hand.
