Clearly, in some cases, dead husbands were best.
“There you are. Sarah said you’d hid away up here. We have precious few moments before the others join us. She’s determined you won’t lock yourself away the entirety of your stay. Apparently, that violates the spirit of the dare. You must not only be here, but you mustparticipate.”
She groaned and turned in her chair, clasping the back edge of it in gloveless fingers. He stood in the doorway, shoulder propped against the frame, lean body angled to advantage, legs crossed at booted ankles.
“Mr. E,” she said with a smile. “I welcomeyourcompany.” Though she could not deny the dare—the kiss—hung over her head like a guillotine, and his presence inched the blade closer to her neck. “I’m reading through Aunt Prudence’s memoirs. I’m almost finished with the entire thing, but I’m not sure I can read much more today.” Each word was more bitter than the last. An earned bitterness, to be sure. She pitied her aunt. But she also began to wonder if her aunt’s philosophies should be adopted as such, her bitterness stolen and worn like a heavy cloak across Georgiana’s own shoulders. Perhaps, considering Xavier and Josiah, she should consider her aunt’s dictates more as a warning. She must approach men with caution, like the snarling beasts they were, but armed with knowledge, she could protect herself.
Josiah strode to the fireplace and poked at it a bit, encouraging the dying flames into a roaring, crackling, lovely heat.
“Thank you. I did not realize how cold I was.” She pulled her shawl up tighter about her shoulders.
“Happy to serve you, my lady.” He dropped into a chair nearby and slunk low, long legs outstretched, gaze heavy on her. “You look… drained.”
She stiffened and rifled through the pages of her aunt’s memoir. “A gentleman would never say so. But perhaps”—she thrust a page at him—“all gentlemenwould. My aunt has often said men will be mean to women because theycan be.”
The smile drooped as he read the page she’d given him, that very maxim scrawled across the top of the paper. When he placed the paper on the desk and looked up at her once more, he spoke, his jaw tight, his words hard and slow, “I did not mean offense, and I apologize for my thoughtless words.” He fell forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. Strong thighs, shown to advantage in buckskin. “I admit, I’ve not always been a thoughtful fellow. Some days, it’s still a struggle.”
“By some days, you mean Monday through Thursday?”
“Oh, and Friday, too.” He tried a wavering grin. “Your aunt is right on this one. Men can be mean and say as they wish. Like Afton, that beef-wit. But you do not have to suffer their words. I cannot imagine you doing so.”
“One excellent lesson I learned from my aunt was how to stand up for myself. Financial and emotional independence are the greatest gifts she gave me.”
He stared at the ground. “I meant only, when I commented on your looks, that I was worried. You always look beautiful. Surely you know that.”
“It’s nice to be told that now and then.” Soft words for the soft feeling stealing through her. A good river of warmth to wash away the bitterness left behind by her aunt’s past and opinions.
He lifted his head, their gazes locked, and his lips seemed to stretch into the same small smile she felt turning up the corners of her own mouth.
Noise from the hallway spilled into the room.
“There you are,” Sarah said, her arm wrapped through Xavier’s, a gaggle of people at her back, all of them spilling into the room.
The connection snapped, Josiah fell into the back of his chair once more, and Georgiana straightened and bundled up her papers, replacing them in the leather folio they’d come to her in.
Sarah bustled over to Georgiana and pulled her up, dragging her to a table closer to the fire. “Cards. We’re to play vingt-et-un.” She plopped Georgiana down in a chair and waved to Josiah. “You, too. Come along now. Everyone gather round.”
Xavier did as she said, grumbling, “This is what comes of giving up daring, my dear. You’ve begun to fixate on other competitive challenges.”
His wife flashed him a smile.
“Must we?” Georgiana asked. “Cards are all well and good, but I was reading. And I am sure I do not wish to dampen the party spirit by beating you all soundly.”
“See there, Xavier,” Sarah said. “There’s my challenge. Mrs. Hoskins is bringing negus in a moment—ah! Here she is.” Sarah bustled over to help the housekeeper, then pushed the serving cart to the table herself as everyone settled in their seats.
Josiah sat right beside Georgiana and across from Miss Darlington. Peter, Josiah’s younger brother, sat next to her, across from Georgie. The chair across from Xavier remained empty until Sarah took it, pressing a warm cup of negus into Georgie’s hands.
“We are all family here, and you will serve yourselves, I hope,” she said to the assembled players before nudging Georgie’s shoulder. “You are our special guest, though, so I’ve served you.” She winked. “Yours might be more potent than the rest.”
Georgiana sniffed the warm wine drink. Lemon and nutmeg and sugar. She took a sip. Not as good as cake, but it warmed her insides. She sipped again and took the cards as they came to her. She focused. A little competition riled the blood. Or was that the wine? Or the man sitting next to her who, for some reason seemed bigger sitting than he did standing, as if he could curl her entire body into his own and shelter her—
What nonsense. She needed no sheltering. She took another sip, sighed her satisfaction, and got to work. She won the first hand.
Sarah glared, and Xavier patted her back, whispered something to her about rewarding her for being a good sport later.
Josiah had a whisper for Georgiana, too. “Good work, Lady Gee.”
She shivered, sipped her wine, and tried not to gloat.
