The young man had grown up faster than Owen had realized. He studied his cousin and nodded, feeling pride welling up in his chest. No longer would their lives be ruled and ruined by that odious man they were forced to call family.
“Write to me soon. I should like to visit come summer,” Owen requested.
“Good. Florentia wants a garden,” Benedict added lightly. “I’m sure you two will have much to discuss.”
“Then I am looking forward to it. Travel safely, Benedict. And… thank you.”
The words were simple. Too simple. They meant more than his cousin could understand. But Benedict nodded all the same as he walked back to his carriage. The two of them waved to each other before he disappeared inside.
Owen stayed put until the carriage pulled off his drive and disappeared down the street.
His soul was warm. The day was over. His wife was safe in her bed, and his cousin was safe in the city. His cloak had offered him fair protection from the rain, but he could still tell his garments were soaked through. Yet, he hardly felt chilled as he turned toward his house, ready to retire to his chambers and sleep for what he hoped would be a very long time.
And, come morning, he thought of all the good things to come.
CHAPTER27
“Still abed?” Jean asked in surprise when she stepped into her mistress’s bedchamber, carrying a tray of biscuits and hot chocolate.
Stretching, Georgiana merely rolled over to give her a grin. “I am. You keep telling me I should sleep more, so you have no right to tell me to rise.”
Her maid chuckled. “Very well, then stay put. Here is your tray, Your Grace. A very good morning to you.”
“And a very good morning to you,” Georgiana returned. Giggling, she sat up and shifted her blankets about. “Goodness, that smells delicious!”
“Doesn’t it? I sampled the chocolate this morning, since I feared the cook had burnt it. Hope you don’t mind. It’s so heavenly!”
Georgiana shook her head. “Next time, pour yourself an entire cup. If there’s any left of this, you may finish it.”
“Abed and so generous?” Jean poked her playfully. “Now I know something must be wrong. What is it? You’re dying? I’m dying? Pray don’t tell me you’re letting me go.”
“Certainly not. I’m just…” Georgiana fumbled for the right words, before giving up and shrugging her shoulders. “I’m just happy, Jean.”
First, the bedspread was pushed back, with the sheets folded over her lap. The tray was nudged a little closer for easy access. Finally, her maid straightened up and took a step back to study her.
Jean cocked her head. “Yes. Well, that is a lovely look on you, if you don’t mind my being so bold.”
“Compliments are always welcome, thank you, Jean.” Leaning back against her pillows with her cup of hot chocolate in hand, Georgiana sighed in contentment. “Come back for me in an hour. I have no desire to do anything else today if I can help it.”
Jean bobbed a most refined curtsey. “Certainly, Your Grace.”
Alone again, Georgiana let out another giggle. She had slept perfectly, and had happy dreams she’d already forgotten. Somehow, she just knew they had been happy. The sunlight was filtering through her curtains, her bed was comfortable, the hot chocolate was hot, and her toes were just a little chilly. She couldn’t be more content if she tried.
Especially after last night.
A delightful shiver ran down her spine. She smiled at finding she hadn’t spilled her drink and took another contented sip.
No matter how much she was pretending that Owen was not at the forefront of her mind, he wasn’t exactly in the back of it either. She thought of his kiss last night over and over and over, only certain of one thing—it couldn’t have been any more perfect.
And at the ball… The way he protected me was unlike anything I had ever experienced. That horrid viscount! How crude he was. But there was Owen. He’s always there when I need him. He was such a fierce protector. He cares, whether he says it or not. But I know. I can see it in his eyes.
They were both new to love, she supposed. While she acknowledged they might not be there yet, Georgiana couldn’t resist the thought that they were well on their way. She had read the stories––a husband didn’t protect his wife like that unless he adored her. Maybe even loved her. And the kiss really had been perfect.
“Perfect,” she whispered.
There was a voice in the back of her head that said she shouldn’t get her hopes up. It was a dangerous thing to do, especially so early in their relationship. She understood many marriages didn’t become peaceable until years had passed.
“But I can’t wait years,” she told herself.