Chapter 25

Home was a strange concept to Georgiana as of late. But she found herself slowly becoming more accustomed to it. Maybe she wasn't as familiar with the location as she hoped to be, but she found it in the little things.

Like how Owen might compliment the way she redecorated a room. How the servants often knew how to help her before she had to speak up. How comfortable her living space was becoming. How Owen danced with her. How he helped out of the carriage, even.

It is quickly becoming an obsessive thing, these regular thoughts of my husband. Surely a lady doesn't think of her man quite so frequently. And yet I cannot help but enjoy it. Enjoy him. After what happened tonight…

Georgiana's heart skipped a beat when Owen helped her out of the carriage. His grip on her hand was firm. When his thumb brushed against her knuckles, her breath caught in her chest. Yet, he hardly looked her way, and she wondered if he even knew what he had done.

"Thank you, Owen," she said softly, before turning to the footman who brought her an umbrella. "Thank you."

Only a few rain drops sprinkled down on her. Then there was coverage. It darkened the night sky further. That disappointed her, though she tried not to feel that way. The evening was over. She was glad of it, too. More than enough had happened there.

Home was where she wished to be. With her husband, Georgiana noted, even though he wasn't even looking her way.

Then he turned to her. There was something in his eyes that made her hesitate. She wanted to ask what was on his mind, but she was pulled in the other direction as the footman, David, nodded and talked to her. "Your Grace, heating pans are being placed in the bed for you."

"Ah, yes. Of course, thank you." Georgiana hesitated as she looked back at her husband. "Shall we?"

"Hm?" Owen blinked several times. "Ah, yes. Let us go in."

For a moment, she was ready to ask him what was the problem. But she pressed her lips together. Didn't she already know?

Thinking back to the Viscount, she dropped her gaze. The less time spent thinking about him, the better.

The hour was late. It had been a long night. She was managing well after what had happened that evening, and she didn't want to push herself or Owen. Neither of them spoke on their way inside. Wentworth and David attended to them, taking their coats and Owen's hat. The items had come with them from the carriage, much earlier.

Once their outer garments were removed, Owen and Georgiana made for the stairs. Owen grabbed a lamp on the way, then offered her his other hand.

Exhaling, she accepted it. There weren't many occasions where they retired to their chambers at the same time. She knew he often stayed up late. It was his study, she supposed, where he spent that time, pouring over letters and numbers and such.

He should have more pleasure than that. Even a man of his station must enjoy himself. I suppose he finds pleasure with those plants. It isn't as though pleasure is to be found at balls.

She pursed her lips. She would never forget that man. How aggravating the Viscount had been! Even now she remembered the way he had touched her. The way he had talked to her.

"Georgiana?"

Hearing her husband's soft murmur, she turned to her left, where he had been a moment ago. Except he wasn't there. Owen was three steps ahead of her, turning around to her since she hadn't kept up with him on the stairs.

"Oh."

He started back at her. "Are you well?"

"I think so." Georgiana shook her head. "I'm well. Thank you for asking. I was only thinking…"

"Don't," he uttered hoarsely. She tilted her head up to study him. "Not of him. He doesn't deserve your attention or your time. He never did. Think of him no more."

Her lips twitched. "You enjoy giving orders, don't you?"

Nodding slowly, he said, "I do. And I expect you to obey these ones to the letter."

"Very well, Your Grace."

She meant to tease him, but her voice was lower than it had been a moment ago. The hallway was dark. She noted their nearness and paused to catch her breath. Still, it did nothing to slow her heartbeat.

Maybe he could kiss her. Maybe he would. She licked her lips as she noted just how close her husband was to her. Wasn't it time they kissed?

The incident at the library doesn't count. We were so close. I thought his lips nearly touched mine, but not really. Not enough. We have been married for weeks. Over a month, at least, and still we haven't properly kissed. It might be a marriage of convenience, but surely… surely we can do something so innocent as a kiss.

Georgiana found herself beginning to slowly lean forward to be closer to her husband. Just as she took a small step that brought her slipper right in front of his shoe, however, he moved away. She froze and watched in consternation. He didn't want to kiss her. He had made that clear in the past, and she should have known better.

And yet her stomach clenched. There was the sudden fear that Owen would disappear.

He didn't.

Thank the heavens.

Georgiana swallowed loudly in the quiet as she watched him stop in the hallway. He had gone to her door. He used his free hand to push it open before turning back to her, waiting.

She wondered if he was anxious to be free of her. Did he care? He must after the way he behaved at the ball. She'd heard his threats to the Viscount. Owen had been so ready to fight for her, to protect her.

Though she hadn't meant to stay close enough to hear their conversation, she hadn't been able to go far. It hadn't felt right to return to the ball. The only place she had felt safe then––now, even––was at his side.

That was why she made no complaints when she walked toward him yet again. This time, she suppressed the urge to kiss him. She would behave herself and stop wishing for anything more.

Just being friends is more than I could have wished for after everything that has happened. We can manage in each other's presence without complaint. That has to be blessing enough.

She managed a slight nod without being embarrassed as she turned toward her door.

Owen's breath caught. She thought she noticed the shadows dancing on the door beside her, flickering from his breathing.

She nearly stumbled when he spoke softly, "Georgiana…"

How does he say my name like that? Like he needs me? Like I matter to him?

Forcing herself to turn around, she found him towering over her. Candlelight flickered on his face. The shadows only accentuated his handsome features.

"Yes?" She tried hard to ignore the fluttering in her stomach.

"Nothing. It's only…" Owen looked away for a moment before turning back to her. His expression shifted into a determined look, as if he was prepared for something.

Talk to me, Owen. Tell me everything.

Georgiana wanted nothing more than to beg him to tell her everything. There was something on his mind. She lingered before him, waiting for him to speak. And then she waited. She searched his gaze and only found that hesitation.

Perhaps he had changed his mind.

She straightened up and offered a slight nod. She couldn't wait all night. They'd been through quite a bit. Both of them were exhausted, and ready to rest. There was no rushing him, she knew that much. She would have to wait until he was ready to talk. If he ever did. And that would have to wait until morning.

I suppose I can talk. Maybe that will help him find his words.

"Thank you for tonight—the ball, I mean, and… and everything." Georgiana bit her lip. "What you said out there, I never…"

"I meant it." His steady gaze held hers. She listened to the heavy thudding of her heart and knew his words were true. "I meant every word I said. I will always protect you."

"Oh." She exhaled slowly.

No one had ever said that before. No one had ever even offered. Although she supposed her father cared, somewhat. Tonight had been proof that he would never go out of his way for her if it was an inconvenience.

Whereas her husband was much, much different. He was a much better man.

She tried to find the words to tell him how much this meant to her. How he was quickly becoming her favorite person and how much that scared her. He was strong, wise, and far cleverer than she had ever understood him to be. It was almost too much.

Perhaps it was best that they called it a night. Her heart felt so big that it might burst. Swallowing hard, Georgiana tried to speak.

"Thank you, and… and good night, Owen."

She started to turn away so she might disappear into her bedchamber. Already there were candles lit, and she thought she glimpsed Jean standing in the corner, ready to help her dress for bed.

But then a hand grasped hers. She stopped breathing as she was tugged back a step. Turning around, she bumped into Owen's chest.

She opened her mouth to ask him what he wished to say. Maybe he had found the words somewhere in that warm, firm chest of his. Tilting her head up, Georgiana only had a moment to search that strong gaze of his before he closed the distance between them.

She felt her heart skip a beat. She pressed her free hand against his chest so she might keep her balance. It was only a moment, but already she knew she wanted to remember every bit of this. Her breath caught as Owen's lips touched hers.

Both hesitant and delicate, the kiss was everything she had hoped it would be. It was terribly perfect. He was warm against her, and she found herself wanting to sink into him, melting away from the chilly night.

Just as she was ready to deepen the kiss and draw him in, her instincts telling her what to do, he pulled away.

Owen stepped back. He lowered his gaze and gave a small bow. "Good night, my wife."

And then he was gone before she had caught her breath.

Georgiana put a hand to her chest as she stepped backward into her bedchamber. Then she took another step back and then a third, before finding herself stuck. Her lips were tingling, so she couldn't think of anything more. She wondered if she might chase after him. If she did, would he kiss her again?

"Ah, there you are, Your Grace." Jean walked over to her. The young woman closed the door in front of her mistress before leading her further into the room. "You still look so lovely and fresh. I'm so glad you had an evening out. Would you tell me everything?"

Georgiana blinked. "Everything?"

"Or anything, really," her maid corrected with a sheepish smile. "Was there lovely music? What sort of dresses were worn? I do expect your hair was fashionable, was it not?"

"It was." Georgiana slowly smiled. She thought of Owen's kiss and the way he had danced with her. There wasn't any more room inside her soul right then beyond those perfect moments with him. "Oh, it was lovely."

Leading her to the vanity table, Jean chuckled. "I can only imagine."

Georgiana told her maid about the fashions and hairstyles at the ball. They discussed some potential designs for the future. Then they talked about music as Georgiana hummed and danced twice around the room, before sliding under the blankets.

It was warm in there. Warm like Owen's embrace. Georgiana closed her eyes and thought of her husband. Jean departed quietly, so she was all alone.

In her heart, however, Georgiana wasn't. She replayed the waltz she had enjoyed with her husband over and over until she drifted off to sleep with one thought on her mind.

Maybe, just maybe, she could have a happy marriage, after all.