Page 59 of Ironvine

“Any other girl of your age and station would be mortified if not terrified.”

“With all that has happened, I am well past any such mortification or terror. Even before the duel.” She let out a sigh. “And I am no longer a girl.”

“No, you’re not. We’ve seen to that, haven’t we?”

She glanced up at him for but a moment and the long, dark waves of her thick hair fell about her shoulders. His heart stopped in his chest. The desire to dig his hands into that silken mass, to tug and pull as he took her mouth. Took her…

Once they both dealt with their clothing and got into the bed, Charles blew out the lone candle at his side. “Do you feel safe, Georgie? I want you to feel safe.”

“I do, Charles. I also feel great relief that we are this much closer to home. I thank you for asking,” she whispered. “Good night.” Her hand touched his arm in the darkness.

“Good night.” The gentle brushing of her fingers sent a warm thrum over his flesh.

* * *

In the morninghe woke to find her curled up at his side, snuggled to his body as if she were rooted there. As if it were the most natural, organic thing in the world.

It certainly felt so.

He let go of the breath he was holding and gave in to the temptation to touch her. His fingers trailed down her bare arm, and she let out a sigh in her sleep. Her skin was soft, smooth, and warm under his touch. The silky mass of her hair had fallen over his arms, tickling his chest. That delicate floral scent of hers rose from her skin, and his cock stiffened between his legs.

Bloody hell. Stop it, not now.

He had to get out of bed and get dressed. He moved, and she immediately stretched out. That glorious body with peaks and curves twisted and turned. “Is it morning already?”

“Yes.” He planted his feet on the floor. “We really should prepare to leave.” He rubbed at his sore wounded arm

She sat up, her chemise falling off a shoulder, and a groan rose in his chest. “Quite right.” She scrambled off the bed. “Let me help you.”

He stepped back. “No, no, you don’t need to bother with me. Malcolm said I should move the arm as much as I can bear to keep things circulating.”

“Very well.”

He finished dressing, quickly so that she could get on with her own preparations in privacy. He wanted her to be comfortable. Or was he the one who felt uncomfortable? He shoved his boots on. “I shall go find my man and make sure all is ready. I shall return for you.”

“Very well. I won’t be long.”

After a quick breakfast in their room, Georgina covered her head and face with the hood of her cape, and Charles led her to their coach.

Hours later, they finally arrived in the village, their carriage swaying as it made its way up the high street, through the crowd. Georgina peered out the glass as they passed the old tavern, The Fang & Feather. “There she is,” she murmured.

“Happy to be back?” he asked.

“You have no idea.”

He leaned his head back against the cushioned upholstery. “Oh, I think I do.”

ChapterTwenty-Five

Charles

The curate’s words were buta dull repetition, and Charles did not pay them any heed. His eyes were glued onto the wooden coffin in the ground at the family grave on the estate.

Only days before, his brother had cavorted over the earth, entertaining himself. Laughing loudly, making pronouncements, making plans. No longer. Not ever again.

All that was left of all that was Hugh lay deep in the earth. And Charles would walk away. He would bloody well prosper, spend their money, make more money, and create his own family.

Ah yes, he had to confirm the wedding with the vicar. The vicar had stopped his recitations and with a twist of his lips, muttered, “Sir?”

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