Page 52 of Georgiana
Duchess of Adborough
Max read the letter several times, saddened by how stilted and formal she sounded. Even though he understood her embarrassment and desire for the letters to be consigned to the fire, he could not comply. Not when the pages were filled with how much she loved him. He treasured every word written and they’d have to pry them from his dead, cold fingers.
He checked his calendar and decided to leave in two days. The prospect of a quiet, personal visit had diminished upon Georgiana’s revelation that her two cousins would be in attendance. She was amassing a formidable army that would protect her by any means at their disposal. However, he counted on the blessed fact that she had loved him as his best weapon to breach her defenses. He’d make sure Clarkson brought extra shirts and cravats for him. Knowing the Fitzwilliam brothers’ temperaments, he expected double trouble in the form of fisticuffs and words. It was best to be prepared for the worst, although he prayed for the best.
~~~~~
Max opened the well-worn Bible he’d pulled from his valise. He’d gone into the library to spend a few minutes of quiet before leaving for Pemberley. A heavy sigh lifted his shoulders and with his hand resting on his most treasured possession, other than his wife, he released his breath, letting frustration and worry expel alongside.
“Lord, have I lost everything? My lack of trust in Georgiana unforgiveable. Guide my thoughts and words as I go forward rebuilding my marriage.” He glanced down at the Bible, opened to the book of Joshua. “I need the fortitude and faith of Joshua to slay the giant of my pride.”
He closed in eyes in contemplative silence, opening them only when the door crashed open. Viscount Ashton burst into the room; anger etched deep in his face.
“Your Grace, I apologize. I explained to the Viscount you were not receiving.” His butler, clearly distraught, followed Ashton into the room.
“It’s all right, Benson. You may go.”
With a polite bow, Benson left the room, closing the door behind him. Not sure what Ash would say or do, but willing to receive a verbal chastisement, Max stood. He moved so fast Max barely had time to blink before Ashton had his throat clutched in a deadly grip. Gasping for breath, he struggled to break free from the larger man’s strangle hold.
“You may have wrestled with younger brothers, your Grace,” Ash leaned close to his face and growled, his breath hot on Max’s cheek, “but Darcy, Richard and I grew up with Wickham.”
For the first time in Max’s life ice cold fear crept through his veins and snaked around his heart. The venomous hatred in Ashton’s voice, as well as the unspoken truth that anything learned from George Wickham was underhanded and foul, cautioned him to tread lightly. He tried, unsuccessfully, to twist out from Ashton’s hold.
“You abandoned my cousin” – the fingers squeezed again – “sentencing her to solitary confinement without so much as telling the prisoner her supposed crime. Darcy is too much of a gentleman to attack you physically. Richard would run you through with his sword, but as a Colonel in his Majesty’s military he’d face court martial and deportment, if not the death sentence. I, on the other hand, have no plans of ever marrying and carrying on the Matlock name. It would be my honor to make Georgiana a widow.”
“Ash,” Max choked out and patted the Viscount’s arm in the unspoken way of surrendering to a more capable opponent. “I love Georgiana.”
“You love her!”
“Yes.”
With a bitter laugh, Ashton released his grip and stepped back. Max coughed as much-needed air made its way into his lungs. With a sound of disgust, Ashton turned to leave. When he reached the door, he turned abruptly and faced Max.
“You are a hypocrite and a fraud. A deceiver of the worst kind.” His voice vibrated with anger. “You may love your horse, or your newest vest, but you do not love my cousin.”
“I do love her,” Max reiterated and straightened to his full height, his bruised pride smarting over the idea that Ash believed he loved only inanimate objects. “My recent behavior is unacceptable” – the Viscount snorted indelicately – “however, if Georgiana chooses to look beyond this and forgive, I ask that you follow her lead. All I can do is prove my words with action.”
“There is a story in the Bible where the Lord caused the sun to stand still. You need a miracle of that magnitude to earn back my cousin’s trust. To earn back ALL our trust.”
For the first time in months he felt the stirrings of a smile. He knew nothing was impossible with God.
“You and I both know that if the Lord can make the sun and moon stand still, He can soften the heart of the sweetest woman ever created. I will do my part and the Almighty will do His.”
“If you plan to stand on prayer alone, you’d better ask Him to give Elizabeth a heart full of forgiveness.Sheis the one you should fear, not Darcy.”
Max knew Elizabeth Darcy was a formidable woman in her own right, on par with his much beloved mother. Diminutive in stature, her intelligence and strength of will was the stuff of legend. If she chose to oppose a reconciliation between himself and Georgiana, his task would become exceedingly difficult.
“I’m well aware this task, without Divine intervention, is nigh unto impossible.”
Ash reached for the door handle and then paused.
“Adborough,” he said, without turning around. “It’s been a long time since I thought God held any interest in the affairs of man. If you manage to earn back the love and respect of our family and friends, I may have to revisit my long-held doubts.”
“Then it’s imperative that I succeed.”
The Viscount half turned and held Max’s gaze. “I almost hope you do.”
Chapter Sixteen
