“I cannot see him.”
“Tut, tut, dear. Of course you can. After all, if you do not soon show a wealthy gentleman proper favor, I fear you shall be a spinster after all.” Mamma gave a small pat to Georgina’s shoulder. “Come, come. We must not keep him waiting.”
“I said I cannot see him.”
“But see him you must, dear, for—”
“I said no!” Georgina yanked the curtains over the window, banishing Simon’s face. She stood and whirled on Mamma. “I cannot see anyone, not even Mr. Oswald, and if you are troubled that I am not yet affianced, you might as well reckon with the fact.” Her shoulders deflated. “I have no heart left.”
“Hardly a vital component of marriage, dear. All one needs is a good mind and enough in common to ensure amiable companionship.”
Frustration tinged at her last cord of patience. She sank back into the chair. “Mamma, please.”
“Very well. I shall send him away. But when you are more yourself, you shall regret this, I am certain.” With a huff, Mamma left the room, and the world grew so quiet that even the first splatters of rainfall echoed like bombs.
Georgina massaged her head. The hurt was madness. She ached everywhere. She was sick, fatigued, weak—but she had so much painful energy that she longed to throw something through the window or bust the lamp or scream.
Dear God, help me.The prayer carried her anguish to heaven.Help me not to hurt forever.
A loud banging rattled the door the same time thunder echoed outside. “Georgina, open up.” Mr. Oswald, louder than usual, with a desperateness to his tone. “I know you do not wish to speak with me now. I realize what today means for you.”
“Go away.”
“You make a fool of me. I hope you realize I have never pursued anyone who did not wish to be pursued. I have never lent attentions where they were not encouraged. Do you hear me?” Another bang. “Georgina.” Silence, then the door crashed open.
She jumped, but he hit his knees in front of her chair before she knew what to do.
“I told you once that we were the same. You lacked interest in matrimony for reasons you could not say, and I lacked interest in matrimony for reasons I would not say.” His face tightened. “I have never told anyone this in my life, but my father had as many courtesans as he had cups of tea in the morning. His infidelity killed my mother, corrupted my sister, and made a devil out of me. I never married because I feared I would carry on the sins of my father. That I could not…” He closed his eyes. “That I could never be faithful to any one woman.”
Georgina sucked in a breath. “Alexander.” She should not have used his Christian name—especially now, of all times. But the words cooed from her, like a comfort she would offer a hurting child.
“I am not telling you this to extract your pity. Heaven knows I want none of that.” He reached into her lap, grasped her hands, pulled them closer to him. “Georgina, I want to marry you.”
“I cannot—”
“You are the only woman I have ever met in my life that I was certain I could be true to.” He sniffed, looked at the floor, then back to her face as lightning flashed behind the curtains. “I could never love anyone else. You are…” His burning eyes roamed her face. “You are what painters immortalize and what poets write about and what men wait their whole lives to meet.”
“Simon.” She did not mean to speak his name, but it was the truth.
“I realize you love him. I knew that all along.”
“Then you know I could never—”
“Love evolves. It is different every day. It finds new objects when old ones become memories.” He drew her hands to his cheeks. “I would wait forever until that object was me.”
Her heart writhed. She resisted the urge to retract her hands from his skin, or to hold them in place until she was blinded to everything else that brought her pain.
“I will make you forget him.” He kissed her fingers. “I promise. Georgina, give me the chance to prove I can be everything you desire. Marry me.” Another kiss. “Marry me, Georgina. Marry me now. Please.”
She opened her lips to deny him, but she could not speak the words. She was repulsed and tantalized and confused, but she knew one thing.
She wanted, more than anything, to forget what she had never been able to on her own.
Perhaps this was her chance.
“I just spoke with the boatswain. Your luggage is in the cabin, and he says you might board whenever you are ready.” Sir Walter pulled his topper forward, as if to shelter his face from the misty rain. “The crew is loading up the last of the cargo now.”
Simon nodded, shifting Mercy to his other arm. “Here.” He unbuttoned his coat. “Put your head in there to keep dry.”
