Page 64 of Lessons for Marquesses
She clenched her eyes shut, terrified to hope. She had already decided her fate. But if his hand failed, she was not prepared. She didn’t bargain to live or make promises she couldn’t keep, just to be spared. She was not right with herself or with the world. She knew now, yes, she knew. One died without making peace.
With excruciating deliberation, he pulled her up the wall. Hope sprang desperately within her as her back cleared the stone. Her hand searched for a hold. Her bottom contacted the hard edge.
He planted her firmly on the ledge.
He didn’t let her go. His hand soothed over her coat, her nape, brushing her skin, capturing a lock of her hair.
She had no strength to lift her head. Inside, she shook harder than when she had been staring at death. Nausea burned the back of her throat.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She said it over and over. “So sorry. So?—”
“Shhh, love.” His large hand capped her head, holding her there for countless minutes until he slid his fingers to her brow and gently raked back her hair. He ruffled the back of her head. “No more sorries. Watch me and follow my path.”
The path he took was longer than she suspected he would have taken without her. Right to the stair-stepped stone so that he could turn around, his hips to the wall, then walking with his hands back to her and easing down to catch a hold with his foot on the window below.
Georgiana watched in awe of his strength and determination over the arm that plagued him.
He scooped his right arm under the top of the casement and lowered himself until he stood in the window’s opening. “Come, George.”
She did exactly as he had, maneuvering down to meet him, where he locked a protective arm about her knees. She slid through his hold like thread through a needle, thighs, hips, waist…
His arm slid about the small of her back, his large hand holding her close. “I had many opportunities to sacrifice myself during my life. I never did.”
Never had she felt so alive when he brushed a thumb along her jaw, the pad grazing her bottom lip.
“If you had,” she whispered, “I would never have known you.”
He blinked, but she noted what had passed. Noted it for a tragedy that lingered. He placed her hand upon the stone to steady her and climbed down. Georgiana trailed after him, leaping off the bottom window. Tumbling to her knees, she kissed the grass. She tore off her coat and fell to her back to lay in the sunshine.
Mr. Wolf sat, his long, powerful legs stretched out beside her as he leaned back on his right arm. Without him touching her,she felt him. His presence required no words, not even a look. Awareness of him had become a part of her. If she closed her eyes in a crowded room, she could find him. She was certain that if he traveled to the ends of the earth, she could find him.
He had called herlove.
Surely he was not a man to use endearments loosely. No, he hadn’t meant it in the romantic sense, but it gave her confidence. Just as his counsel to fight had. There were different methods to fighting, and what if Lord Eastwick took everything from her? She had her life, didn’t she? And if she was brave, then she could face whatever the marquess threw at her. Debtor’s prison. An uncertain future. No Farendon. No horses.
But I will have me. And those I love. And I will rebuild my life, no matter how painful it is.
She laughed, as if this were the time to find humor. “My aunt would have been absolutely furious if I had died. I’m to learn how to manage a fan tomorrow.”
“Were you hoping to avoid the lesson?”
“Perhaps.” She studied his profile, his eyes averted from hers. “And if I’d died, she would finally have seen me in a gown.”
“What color do you think she would have put you in?”
“Definitely purple. Her favorite color.”
“I can’t see you in purple.”
“If I hadn’t made it back properly to earth, you would have. She’d have swathed me in ruffles, too. Can you imagine?” She waved a hand down her breeches.
The motion was lost on him. He still looked away.
She turned on her side, her boot mistakenly nudging his. “I am an oddity to be sure.”
“One who doesn’t fight.” He shoved from the grass, turning his back to her and leaving.
Her fingers dug into a clump of grass and tore it out. She jerked up at a crinkling sound.
