Page 37 of Georgiana
“Aye, not like Ramsgate. For some reason he never spoke a word of it to anyone.”
“I suppose, in his own way, he cared for her. That may have been the only time he showed discretion in anything.”
Max remembered how everything around him faded until all he was aware of was his breathing and the sound of his heartbeat. Nothing else existed. What had Darcy meant by;I couldn’t make this one go away?
At the time he’d entered the first room he came upon and sat in a dazed stupor. By all accounts, his bride had been compromised before and her family had no intention of telling him. Maybe that had been the plan all along. If he’d found out prior to their nuptials, he could have bowed out gracefully, or extended their courtship until he found out more information. By keeping him in the dark, they assured themselves of Georgiana being safely married and he had no recourse but to stay the course. Divorce was out of the question.
Some of his tension must have transferred itself to Pericles because he broke stride and stomped down with his front hoof. It took a few minutes, but Max soothed the beast, who tossed his head with disdain.
“Easy boy. Forgive my ill humor, we’ll stop at the next inn.”
Placated, the horse moved on at his urging and they continued down the road, his four outriders keeping pace. It didn’t take long before his thoughts went down a dark tunnel and the conversation between Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam.
This was not her first compromise. What of her other folly? Could she have a borne a child from that illicit union? He refused to be cuckolded into accepting another man’s bastard. He cast his mind back in an attempt to ascertain when her first compromise occurred. There was a time, in her fifteenth year when she’d practically disappeared from company for a good part of the summer. A scant four years ago, but being very familiar with her family, this was the only time when she could have conceived and bore a child.
He thought of her halting speech and pretty blushes. So demure and proper and it had all been an act. Just like Lady Celeste. Thank the Lord he found out before he’d lain with her and been led on a merry chase. Women had ways to make men think they were innocent and untried. Besotted fool that he was, he’d have believed any lie she spewed about how lucky they were their child was so healthy even though born too early.
His only recourse was to return to London and reside there for the next few months, six at most, to ensure his wife was not carrying Slade’s child. The quickening may not take place for months, but one thing about a pregnancy – the belly grew whether the woman wanted it to or not.
At the end of his self-imposed exile he’d attend Adborough Hall and consummate the marriage. This was the only way he could ensure any issue from their joining was his. However, if the babe was a girl… if all this failed…
He refused to think that far ahead. His heart hurt too much and even now, with all this anger swirling around him like a mad winter storm, divorce was an option he could not and would not consider. Whether he liked it or not, the responsibility for the succession of the Duke of Adborough may fall upon the shoulders of his younger brother George.
Chapter Eleven
In the weeks following Max’s abrupt departure, Georgiana had never felt so alone – other than her catastrophic summer after Ramsgate. At that time her exile was self-imposed. She’d kept to her room, barely speaking to anyone. It was only with the timely arrival of Mrs. Annesley that she’d finally crawled out of the dark abyss her mind had fallen into. And now, as she wandered the grounds of Adborough Hall, with a silent footman following at a discreet distance, her mind turned to the advice her faithful companion had given her. Put her thoughts down onto paper.
Mrs. Annesley’s recommendation had carried her through those difficult months and would do so again. So, quill in hand, she sat down at her escritoire to do the same with regard to Maxwell. At first, she struggled to gather her thoughts, but within minutes it was as though the floodgates of her heart opened and the words poured onto the pages.
~~~~~
“Lord Nathan, Ma’am,”
Startled, Georgiana looked up from the book she’d been reading. Oblivious to her surroundings, caught up in the world of the Miss Dashwood’s, she hadn’t heard a carriage.
After carefully placing an embroidery thread within the pages of the book to mark her place, she set it down on the side table and stood to smooth her skirts. Not counting the arrival of her maid Anna, along with all her trunks and personal belongings from Pemberley, this was the first time anyone had paid a visit.
Lord Nathan entered the room and without preamble, advanced toward her taking both hands in his. He kissed her gently on the cheek, saying, “You look lovely as always, Georgiana. Caroline sends her love and regrets that she could not attend with me.”
She looked toward the door and caught the butler’s attention when Lord Nathan released her hands. “Please have Cook send up a tray of tea and biscuits.”
“Right away, Ma’am.” Chapman replied.
“Ask if she has any pear tarts,” Nathan interjected, a happy grin creasing his face. “I absolutely love Dawson’s pear tarts.”
“I shall see if she has any, Master Nathan,” Chapman said with a slight smile before bowing out of the room.
“Please, have a seat Lord Nathan.” She sat and settled her skirts around her legs. “I didn’t hear your carriage.”
“That is because I arrived by horseback. Also, now that you are my sister, you must call me Nathan. How did you get that bruise on your forehead?”
“This?” Georgiana touched the small wound which had almost faded completely. “Tis nothing but the result of a small fall.” She had no desire to inform him how a tenant had pushed by her in anger during one of her visits with Mr. Mason. The steward had apologized profusely, as had the tenant.
Nathan sat directly across from her and took note of the book on the side table. “I see you are readingSense & Sensibility. Caroline and Catherine are as well.”
“Are they? I shall have to correspond with them and find out what they think of the dastardly Mrs. John Dashwood.”
“That’s partly why I’m here.”
