Page 69 of When the Marquess Was Mine
His expression answered for him. Sterling dropped her hands and stepped back. “You’ve been so different since you returned from Derbyshire. Did something happen there?”
She supposed he would hear about Rob eventually. Sooner or later Kitty, or Geneva, would mention him, and it would get back to Sterling that he’d allegedly been knocked about the head in Derbyshire and lost his memory for a while. Even Georgiana’s fertile imagination had failed to concoct a plausible explanation for that story, and finally she’d given up. Perhaps it was because she’d had a sense, ever since Rob had asked her if she really wanted to marry Sterling, that it would come to this.
“I had a lot of time to think in Derbyshire,” she said, lifting her chin. “About us, and our engagement, and why it’s lasted so long.”
He sighed. “I see. And you want a house and baby of your own, like Kitty. Is that it?”
“No. I didn’t think about that at all.” She swallowed her irritation. “But I finally wondered why neither of us felt any urgency.Neitherof us,” she repeated. “I acknowledge my own lack.”
For the first time he looked wary. “Wakefield...”
“I can’t help but think that if we were desperately in love, we would have found a way to be married by now. Perhaps with a smaller settlement. But neither of us ever even suggested it.”
“That’s not how things are done,” he said with a disbelieving laugh. “Do you want to elope, like a common strumpet?”
Like Rob had asked her to do. She closed her mind to that. “No. But we hardly see each other. I was in Derbyshire for six weeks and received only one letter from you the entire time. I was back in London a full week before you called on me. Tonight you came to see Lord Bristow, not me. I daresay you didn’t even know I’d be here.”
He was genuinely amazed. “Did you have some vision of us living in each other’s pockets, never out of sight?”
“No,” she said. “But I would like more than an occasional visit or dance when our paths happen to cross.”
For a moment he stared at the floor, his hands on his hips. Georgiana had the sudden thought that he was thinking very hard what to say. “You’re right,” he said at last, calmer than before—almost too calm. “There is a reason Wakefield and I haven’t come to terms. There is a piece of land, bordering my father’s estate. My father always believed your father meant for you to have it. You know what great friends they were. It should be your birthright, darling, and I want you to have it—for our son, if you don’t care for it.”
Of course there was a piece of land. “So you’ve been arguing with him for two years over a property?” She exhaled, at once humiliated and vindicated. “He won’t give it, you know.”
“We’re negotiating—”
“Because getting that land is more important than getting me,” she finished.
Sterling’s eyes nearly popped from his face. “No! Of course I want you!”
“All right,” she said steadily, even though her pulse was so frantic she ought to be shaking where she stood. “Kiss me.”
“What?” Sterling looked astounded.
“If you want me, not that bit of land, you must want to kiss me. Don’t you?”
For answer, he stepped forward and hauled her into his arms. His mouth crashed down on hers, and for one taut moment, she waited, hoping... But no burst of delight hit her; no flush of pleasure made her blood race, certainly nothing like the way it had when Rob—
She stepped back. Sterling stared at her, his eyes wide in surprise.
But not, she thought, because she’d broken off the kiss.
“You know what I’m going to say,” she whispered, her lips numb. “You felt it, too. Or rather—you didn’t feel anything.”
He blinked rapidly. “That’s nonsense. We’ve known each other our whole lives—”
“Which doesn’t mean we are suited to marry.” Her eyes felt hot, and she could feel tears prickling behind her lids. “I don’t blame you. I admitted I also never pressed Alistair to conclude the settlements. I don’t know that he would have heeded me, but I never even tried. I—I began to wonder why that was, and in the end I realized it’s because we’re not actually in love with each other.”
“I do love you,” he said swiftly. “How can you say I don’t?”
“And I love you,” she said, fighting back the wobble in her voice. “But... more like a brother, I think. Or as a dear friend. Not as a husband.”
This time the silence felt as sharp as a razor. Sterling straightened his shoulders, his face devoid of expression. “Georgiana, be careful what you say. If this is a ploy to push me into a hasty wedding, it won’t work.”
“Hasty!” She gulped down a burst of wild laughter. “The fact that you could call ithastyafter more than two years says everything about your feelings.” She shook her head. “I am not trying to manipulate you. I am not hysterical. I am trying to tell you... that I don’t think we shall suit each other as husband and wife.”
“What?” Sterling demanded, as if he couldn’t believe his ears. “What?”
