Page 60 of Georgiana
“Did you return them?”
“I have not.” Before anyone could speak another word, he added, “And I will not.”
“But, you must! How else do you expect to earn her trust again?” Ash exclaimed and threw his napkin onto his plate.
“She doesn’t want his trust,” Richard also threw his napkin down and stood. “I demand you give me those letters and I shall return them personally to my cousin.”
“They are the only words I have of her telling me she loves me and I will not give them up.”
Max rose to his feet, his appetite completely gone. With a perfunctory half bow, he pivoted from the table and exited the room, a swish of silk his only warning that Georgiana had been in the hall and heard everything he’d said.
Chapter Eighteen
“They are the only words I have of her telling me she loves me, and I will not give them up.”
With her heart beating a frantic tattoo and Max’s heated words ringing in her ears, Georgiana backed away from the door and hastened down the hall. Did he truly love her? If yes, then his declarations of felicity and admiration had a ring of truth and she could no longer believe he was only trying to trick her into returning to Adborough Hall so his sterling reputation would remain intact before society.
How could she trust him? For years he’d been so conciliatory and kind and then over night believed the very worst of her. What if she displeased him again? Steady footsteps sounded behind her and she desperately wished she could break into a run. She wouldn’t be in this predicament if she’d not forgotten her fan in her haste to leave with Fitz and avoid sitting at the table with her husband.
“Georgiana,” Max called quietly.
That he didn’t wish to call attention to the fact she’d eavesdropped on their conversation, unwillingly, lessened her anxiety somewhat. She halted her steps and waited for him to come alongside.
“May I walk with you?” he asked.
She nodded and they walked toward the music room at a more sedate pace. Not a word passed either of their lips, yet the silence did not become oppressive. He waited for her to enter the room, then followed. After a brief hesitation he turned back and shut the doors.
“Fear not,” he said with a rueful smile. “I only wish for a modicum of privacy before your cousins begin to seek us out and save you.”
Against her will, her mouth tilted into a small smile.
“They have become my champions.”
“And rightly so.”
He moved toward a couple of elegant chairs near the pianoforte and, with a small flourish of his hand, invited her to sit down. He took the chair opposite and turned his attention to window, watching snow fall gently to the ground. Unwilling to break the amiable silence, she gazed intently at his profile.
She took note how his jacket seemed looser about his shoulders and chest. He’d lost weight since she’d last seen him. She was no better. Her maid lamented daily how she no longer fit her dresses and had been taking them in for months. If they kept this up, they’d become known as the skeletal Duke and Duchess of Adborough. She gave an inelegant huff at the thought. He turned at the sound and caught her looking at him. Blushing furiously, she dropped her gaze.
“Something amuses you, Georgiana?”
“It is nothing,” she started to say, then changed her mind. “A passing thought caught my fancy.”
“Would you care to share this passing fancy?”
She assessed him, not sure how to take this light form of conversation after so many heated words between them. A wave of longing washed over her.Thiswas how their marriage should have been right from the start. Throwing caution to the wind, she replied, “You and I have not fared well in this whole escapade.”
“How so?” His expression became one of wary surprise.
“Am I right in thinking you have not been sleeping well?” He nodded slowly. “Food has no taste or texture and you eat to maintain your health and nothing else?” Again, he nodded in response. “And you wonder how people find any joy in their life?”
“Yes. Has it been the same with you?”
“Yes, your Grace.”
“Stop saying that!”
“Saying what?”
