Page 29 of The Season for Loving
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” she whispered. Whatever it was, it had to be bad.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said in a bleak voice. “However much I might wish for things to be different, they can’t be.”
“But—”
“You just have to accept it,” he snapped. “There can be nothing between us. Ever.”
She stared at him, stunned and hurt that he would speak to her in such a tone. No one in her entire life had ever spoken to her like that.
“Well, you don’t have to be insulting,” she snapped back. “I can take the hint.”
“Apparently not,” he growled.
Georgie turned on her heel and stalked for the door. A very large part of her hoped he’d come after her, telling her it had all been a horrible mistake. But he didn’t, so she kept on walking, determined to ignore the fact that she’d left her heart in a little, crumpled heap at his feet.
She stormed right past Florian and up the stairs to her room. She yanked on her pelisse, her hat, and her gloves, and then she marched right back down to the hall.
Fergus stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “Georgie, wait,” he said. “Let me explain.”
She sailed past him, too furious to utter a word, and continued on to the back of the house and out the door. She stomped through the garden, then crunched across the thin layer of snow on the lawn and down to the pond, where the tenants and their children had gathered for the skating. Eliza and Bertie were in the middle of it, handing out refreshments and helping the children put on their skates. Will and Evelyn were also helping out, as was Lady Reese.
“There you are, Sis,” Bertie said with a smile. He was crouched in front of the blacksmith’s youngest daughter, helping her tie on her blades. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”
“I’m here now.” She plunked down on a bench and picked up an extra pair of skates.
“Georgie, what are you doing?” Bertie asked.
She slowly looked up to meet his concerned gaze. “I’m going skating. Why?”
“It’s just that you haven’t been on the ice in years. You might be out of practice.”
She bent down to finish the task. “I’ll be fine.”
“Of course you will,” Bertie said in a hearty voice. “But I think I’ll just strap a pair on and—”
She stood up and fixed her brother with her most lethal glare.
“I’ll go with her,” Fergus said.
Georgie glanced over her shoulder, surprised to see him right behind her. “I’m quite capable on my own.”
“Still, I’d like to join you,” he said in a firm voice.
“And I wish you wouldn’t.”
“What’s going on here?” Bertie asked, looking suspicious.
“Absolutely nothing.” She’d said the same thing last night, when her brother saw them come out of the library. Apparently, it was as true now as it had been then.
Turning her back on the two men, she shuffled to the edge of the pond and stepped onto the ice. She wobbled for a moment but soon found her balance.
“Georgie let me—”
She skated away before Fergus could finish his sentence. Sailing across the ice, she took a few slow passes at the shallow end of the pond to regain her form. It had been years since she’d skated, but it felt so familiar. With each stroke her confidence grow. She didn’t need anyone to take care of her. Not Fergus, not her brother, not any blasted male, for that matter.
Georgie skated faster and faster, weaving in and out among the children, who shrieked and encouraged her with their laughter. Her circles grew wider and more extravagant, taking her farther away from the edge of the pond.
“Dammit, Georgie,” yelled Bertie. “Don’t go near the end of—”
Crack.
The ice began to collapse beneath her. The last thing she saw before the water claimed her was Fergus, streaking toward her with grim determination.
