This story takes place in England, 1760, some years before lady Georgia sadly married Lord Walter Pearson at the young age of sixteen. Four years later, Lord Pearson tragically lost his life in a duel to his former lover's husband. Now, widowed fro...
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"Francis?" Georgia put a hand to his chest look up at him. "What did you mean by 'just as you imagined it would be?"
"Oh, that?" He blinked before straightening the lower half of himself. "When I first arrived here I nearly spent the entire day in my study looking over the ledgers and accounts. Then I saw you and your dark hair just outside my windows."
"You were watching me?" She gave a small smile.
"Yes and your daughter. You both looked happy. How is she?"
"She is well. Thank you, Your Grace."
Clearing his throat and straightening his cravat he said, "Thank you, Francis."
Georgia shifted uncomfortably trying hard not to think about the carnal acts they had just committed upon one another. This, whatever they had been doing had to come to a stop. She, herself had to stop. She was leaving off to London tomorrow. Francis had yet to ask for her hand, or even declare himself or whatever feelings he may have about her. He certainly did not love her or might he have said so already, or would he?
She sighed deeply rearranging her skirts. "YourGrace..." She reiterated as if to keep some sort of formal distance between them both. Stubbornwoman. "About the conversation... earlier at dinner... in regards to my daughter and I taking our leave to London-..."
"What of it?" Francis asked trying to hide the slight irritation in his voice. Was he upset about the fact that she was very well leaving, or was it the fact that he found out without her ever telling him? Georgia thought she may-haps have been utterly mistaken at the twinge of emotion. Did he care? She looked up at him with perfectly furrowed brows and searching brown eyes that met his cool icy blue ones. What she was looking for, even she didn't want to know, or rather she knew, but just didn't have the guts to admit that to herself.
"My hus-Lord Pearson left me and my daughter without even a penny to our names. I'm sure you've heard."
"I did not." He said unable to hide the the displeasure upon his handsome features. Jaw clenched, and the rest of him seemed to be as stiff as a block of ice.
"Well, he did. In fact..." Georgia looked away momentarily and gathered herself, her thoughts, and continued, "Despite everything that has happened, I must ensure for my daughter's future and her dowry. Her paternal grandparents wish to offer their support."
He could see the pain and frustration twisting in her face. How long had she been battling with this decision? It softened his resolve and cool demeanor of sudden aloofness. He felt almost as if he were melting and it was bloody insufferable.
"Francis?" Georgia asked again with those eyes. Pleading or searching he wasn't sure anymore. He wasn't sure about any damn thing. Bleeding hell. He couldn't do this. Wait, but he most certainly could.
