Page 34 of Georgiana
“I now pronounce you man and wife.”
It was done, they were married. Max took her hand and lifted it to his lips, smiling as he kissed her silk encased hand.
“Your Grace,” he murmured and gave her hand a squeeze.
“Oh, Maxwell. I’m so happy,” she whispered before they turned and strode arm in arm to the back of the cathedral.
“Not nearly as happy as I,” he whispered back and they stepped into the bright sunlight to the cheers of a small crowd which had gathered outside the church.
Max hurried her down the grand steps to their waiting carriage and helped her settle before joining her. Lizzy and Fitz, both laughing and smiling, came to the carriage door window.
“We shall meet at Matlock House in a few minutes. Aunt Lucinda set aside a suite of rooms for you to freshen up before the wedding breakfast.” Darcy reached for Georgiana’s hand. “You are absolutely beautiful, Georgiana. Mother and Father would be so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Fitz.” She felt tears begin to surface and Max quietly handed her a monogrammed handkerchief. She turned tear filled eyes towards her new husband and smiled. “You are the best of husbands.”
“I shall always strive to hold that title.” Max said before tapping the roof with his cane to signal the driver to move on.
Chapter Ten
The carriage lurched forward and Georgiana propped her hand on the seat to maintain balance. She and Maxwell were leaving the comfortable posting inn they’d repaired to, shortly after the wedding breakfast. By early afternoon they expected to arrive at Adborough Hall, ancestral home of the Kerr family for nearly one hundred and fifty years. If she and Maxwell were blessed with a son, his legacy would continue.
She craned her neck to peek out the window and watched with longing as Maxwell continued to ride Pericles beside the carriage, slightly behind her line of sight. A puzzled frown creased her forehead, again, as she pondered the events which followed what she thought had been a magical, love filled ceremony.
The wedding breakfast had been a jumble of well-wishers and loads of family hugs and there had barely been enough time for her to change into her traveling clothes before she and Maxwell were barreling down London Road toward Yorkshire.
They’d arrived at the inn and the proprietor had escorted to her own bedchamber. At first, nothing about that seemed unusual. In fact, she’d been grateful for the extra time to prepare. A trifle embarrassed, she’d donned the gauzy gown Lizzy helped her purchase. When the modiste had presented the seductive nightgown, she’d been scandalized, but, as Lizzy had said with a secretive smile, Max was her husband and the shyness would fade away as they became comfortable with one other.
However, Max never once darkened the door to her suite of rooms. She had no idea where he’d slept, or how he’d filled his time and she’d finally crawled into the cold bed alone. The next morning, with no maid to assist, as everyone assumed her husband would be a willing lady’s maid, she’d struggled with her gown. Thank goodness the serving maid, who’d brought up her breakfast, stayed and helped fasten the many buttons down the back of her gown.
Now, with the sun high in the sky, they approached Adborough Hall. Expecting to see the full compliment of staff, domestic and otherwise lining the stairs to greet them, Georgiana was surprised to see no one. Not even the butler and housekeeper. Surely Max would be furious at this blatant sign of disrespect.
The carriage trundled to a stop and a footman leaped off the carriage, opened the door and lowered the small step. He offered his hand and helped her step down. In the meantime, Max had swung of Pericles and handed the horse off to a waiting groom. Without so much as a look backward, he strode up the stairs and the door opened prior to him reaching the last step.
“Welcome back to Adborough Hall, Your Grace.”
What Georgiana assumed was the butler gave Max a respectful half bow. Immediately, after Max entered the house, two footmen exited and began off-loading their trunks. Not knowing exactly what she was supposed to do, she lifted her skirts and ascended the stairs. As she made her way through the doorway, the butler said, “Good day, Your Grace.”
It took every ounce of self-control to not burst into tears at that small concession of her presence. Her husband continued through the grand foyer and headed for the stairs. Confused by his bizarre behavior she called out, “Maxwell—”
Slowly he turned and glared.
“You will address me as Your Grace.”
Her breath caught at his venom laced words. Desperate to know why he was so angry, she swallowed and tried again.
“Your Grace. May I be so bold as to inquire why—”
“No. You have been bold enough to last a lifetime. We are done here, Madam.” He turned and ascended the grand staircase, turning to his left at the top.
Georgiana watched his retreating back and suffered the quiet stares of the butler and housekeeper.
“This way, your Grace.”
The housekeeper began to walk toward the same staircase Max had disappeared from.
“To where?”
“Your rooms. I’m sure you’d like to change out of your traveling clothes and freshen up.”
