Page 59 of When the Marquess Was Mine
Sophie took her hands. “And if that will bring you true happiness and joy, you should marry Sterling. But if you have any doubts... you should not. Marriage is forever. It’s best to be sure before you enter it.”
Georgiana stared at her, panic fluttering in her breast. “You think I made a mistake.” About Sterling or about Rob, she wasn’t sure—or perhaps it was the same thing.
“No,” said Sophie at once. “I do not know. But I wantyouto be certain you aren’t making one.” She said it so simply, Georgiana felt a prickle of tears.
Not because Sophie was standing by her, and had been neither horrified nor disappointed by her confession. Not because Sophie had said some truly terrible things to her. No, it was because...
“I’m just not sure,” she whispered.
Chapter 20
The days dragged at Salmsbury Abbey.
The duchess seemed bent on reliving any and every memory he had. In the evenings she made all of them sit in the drawing room and reminisce. Sometimes it was surprisingly pleasant—Rob found himself grinning in shamefaced recollection as Will recounted the time Rob and Tom had convinced him and George, the youngest brother, that there was Viking treasure buried on the seashore, several miles from the house. The two little boys set off on their ponies, only to get lost and not return home before dark.
“We took quite a thrashing for that,” said Tom as the duke tried to hide his chuckles. “I couldn’t sit for a week.”
“You earned it,” exclaimed Will. He was three years younger than Tom but taller and whip-thin. His face was browned and his hair lightened from hours working with the horses, his only passion in life. “We could have died!”
“Died,” scoffed Tom. “We only wanted rid of you for a few hours. I’m the one who told Mother where you’d gone.”
“Because I made you,” murmured Rob. He did remember that, the creeping, uncomfortable knowledge that he’d be responsible if anything happened to his younger brothers.
“I’m the one who nearly died,” exclaimed their mother, “of fright! If George hadn’t taken a lantern—”
“He wanted to press on for the shore even when it began raining,” scoffed Will.
“Yearsoff my life,” said the duchess firmly.
“It’s a fair miracle we survived all four of them,” said the duke. “We should have had a girl or two who would play the pianoforte and do watercolors and not want to be a knight in a joust.”
“That was Tom,” said Will at once.
“Oh? I remember all three of you following my suggestion,” drawled Tom.
“I hope you have more compassion on your wives, when you marry,” put in their mother.
Will and Tom went silent, exchanging uneasy glances. Rob felt his mood sink at this mention of wives and, by extension, fiancées and betrothals. His brothers were horrified at the mention of those things, ready to flee the room. He wasn’t, not when he pictured Georgiana.
It must be a sign, as Tom had said, that he had gone slightly mad. His brain was still jumbled. He’d been weak and might have felt the same for any woman who’d been kind to him.
That thought made no difference to the ache around his heart.
After dinner he went outside. It was a clear night, cooler than in Derbyshire. He raised his face to the sky and wondered if Georgiana went out to look at the stars in London.
Footsteps crunched along the path, coming to a stop just behind him. Rob didn’t turn. From the silence, he guessed it was one of his brothers instead of either parent.
“Still got an ache in your head?” asked Tom after several minutes.
“Not really,” Rob said. It wasn’t his head plaguing him now.
“Hmm.” Tom took a step forward. “Any other aches?”
Rob spun the cane under his palm in silent acknowledgment of his sore leg. He didn’t know how to describe whatwasbothering him.
“I’ve half a mind to take some mates into Derbyshire and track down the fellows who thrashed you.”
“Have you? It’s been weeks. Anyone who knew of it has probably forgotten.”
