Chapter 29

Georgiana couldn't keep the tears from falling, and she hated it.

Had she not spent a lifetime learning to hold back her tears and frustration and pain? Had she not come into this marriage with low expectations of a husband who didn't care for her?

What a fool I have been!

She cursed her heart more than anything as she ran through the house. Though she couldn't bear to look back, she slowed at the last turn to make sure there weren't footsteps following her. She heaved a small sigh of relief, before she picked up speed and made for her bedchamber.

Tempted as she was to crumble and curl up into a ball, Georgiana stopped at the foot of her bed. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Her hands balled into fists while she tried to catch her breath. She could not stop shaking. It made her queasy and anxious—feelings she tried to ignore while holding onto the anger.

This was easier than allowing herself to sit in the pain. Georgiana reminded herself of this and flinched at the memory of Owen's face.

"Yes," he had said. Like it was so simple, like it was something they could overcome in the span of an afternoon.

She had seen the way he reached out to her. The hope in his eyes. It didn't make any sense to her why he wanted her like this. He had made her a toy in their marriage. All he wanted to do was poke and prod her. For what? Why? Was he truly that bored?

While he has estates to manage and servants to care for––even his plants! ––he wastes time on me. Couldn't he just let me be?

There was so much they had said, but now Georgiana realized it had never been enough. It never would be enough. Nothing she did could salvage their marriage because Owen had never cared.

A shudder wracked her shoulders painfully. She held herself together tightly as she considered her options. Wasn't there anything she could do?

"Your Grace?" came Jean's hesitant voice from across the room.

"Jean!" Georgiana whirled around. "Good. You're here. I need you."

The maid blinked twice before nodding. She hastened forward with her eyes glued to her mistress. "What is it, Your Grace? What happened? How can I help you?"

"Pack a bag. Two bags, really. I'll leave now." It wasn't a complete plan, but it had to sufficient for the moment. "Pack some things for a few days away—for both of us. I don't care what you choose. Then have the carriage brought around."

"I… But… Where are we going?"

Already headed toward the door, Georgiana paused. She hadn't said where they were headed. Turning, she plastered on a tight smile. She pretended like she hadn't been crying a moment ago and played like her heart wasn't broken. "We're going to visit my father, of course."

The household was abuzz as she made her way through the halls and stepped outside. She had waved all the servants off, telling them she had to be on her way. One of the footmen, Thomas, had scrambled ahead to alert the stables.

Just as she reached the doors, out came her groom and horse. "Good afternoon. I brought you your horse, Your Grace. Did you wish for company?"

"Oh, don't be silly," she said with a forced laugh. "I can ride just fine on my own. Ready a carriage, would you? My maid will be following me shortly. Thank you for your assistance today."

And then Georgiana was gone from the house.

She didn't look back. She didn't dare. Even after having had weeks to fall in love with the dark and brooding home––she had thought she might even love the dark and brooding man that came with it, which proved her heart couldn't be trusted––she wished to never return again.

The thumping of her heart was louder than her horse's hooves as they crossed through Mayfair to her father's home.

It wasn't ideal, Georgiana knew, to come back here after so recent an argument with her father. She tried to focus on the present instead of her pain. While he might not be happy to have her there, her room must have been left as it was. All she needed was a few days to gather her thoughts before she moved elsewhere.

Out of London, I think. I have enough pin money to get me nearly anywhere. Then I can do something. Anything. Perhaps I could even take Emma with me. We always talked about adventures. Wouldn't it be nice to have one together?

Just because she was her husband's property didn't mean she couldn't do as she liked. He hadn't chased after her. Georgiana couldn't forget that. He had not followed her, and that proved he didn't care. That, and the letter.

She felt another tear roll down her cheek. Shaking her head, she wiped it away before anyone could see it.

It didn't take long for her to make her way back to that familiar street. Her chest heaved as she gazed up at the house she had once called her home. Never before had she spent more than a minute out here like this. She didn't like being on the outside, looking in.

She swallowed hard. Beneath her, her horse shifted, as he could feel her tension.

Finally, she exhaled. "All right. Fine. Let's go in, shall we? It should be pleasant. Father won't even notice I'm here. He never did. And he'll have forgotten what I said to him the other night…"

Goodness me. That was just last night. How has so much happened since then?

But Georgiana shook her head to free herself from the doubts flooding through her. She sucked in another deep breath before dragging herself up to the front door.

It opened to reveal Rogers. The man offered a slight bow as a groom came from around the other side of the house.

"Welcome, Your Grace," the old butler called. "Come in."

She relaxed. Deciding not to question this blessing, she nodded and hastened inside. "I'm sorry to come without invitation, Rogers. It's not too much of a bother, I hope?"

"Truthfully, I don't know. But I haven't received recent direction to turn away anyone at the door, and His Lordship has already had three visitors today. It is good to see you," he added gently.

"Thank you. You, as well." Georgiana looked around to find that everything appeared just as she had left it. Tidy and clean. "Three visitors, you say? How strange. Is Emma about?"

Rogers nodded, taking her cap. "Yes, she was exploring the garden, last I checked."

"I shall see her, and then I will speak with my father. Hopefully, I will be permitted to stay for a few days," she admitted. Then she glanced away when she caught the butler studying her. She hoped her eyes were not still red or puffy. "The garden, you say?"

Hurrying through the house, Georgiana greeted a few familiar faces before making her way to the back garden. They only had half an acre out here, but it still meant they could enjoy beautiful plants.

She had never thought much of them. The gardener had never been patient enough for her company and questions, though he tended the grounds very well. Since she didn't have a knack for the plants and burned easily, her visits out here had always been short. She liked flowers, though, and the greenery.

So does Owen.

The thought of him felt like a punch to the gut. She stopped, staggering for breath.

"Georgiana? It is her! Georgiana!"

She sucked in a deep breath just as Emma bounced into view. Her ten-year-old sister ran over to her with her arms wide open. Her pale blonde hair was decorated with a crown of flowers, and her green eyes were bright. But her hug was the best part of all, tight and snug.

"Oh," Georgiana sighed. "Emma. I'm so glad to see you."

"And you! I didn't know you were coming today. Cook made more cakes. She said they're for supper, but she's already let me have two," Emma added in a loud whisper.

Chuckling, Georgiana loosened her grip and tapped her sister on the nose. "I hope you're not spoiling your diet."

The girl made a face that brightened her mood. "I would not! Besides, I'm always hungry. That's what Papa said at breakfast this morning."

Georgiana stilled, trying to imagine them sitting at a table together. "Really? He said that to you?"

"I did."

Out came their father from the same direction Emma had appeared from, walking slowly toward them with his hands clasped behind his back. His faded blonde hair and dark green eyes reminded her again how she and her sister resembled him so much.

Georgiana swallowed hard, trying to find a way to smile at him. "Father, I didn't expect to see you. Out here, I mean."

He raised a careful eyebrow. "I don't see why you would, since we weren't expecting you to visit."

"It was a surprise!" Emma blurted out, before falling quiet like she always did around him. She wiggled a little in Georgiana's arms. "Papa? Can she stay for tea time? Please? I promise I'll be good."

Georgiana's heart pounded while she let her father look her over. His brow furrowed, as if he could sense something was wrong. He had a knack for finding problems. And there was always something she couldn't quite do right. Squaring her shoulders, she readied herself to explain her presence.

"I think your sister needs to work on her manners. One must do them right to be out in public. We can invite her to tea another day, Emma."

"Father, please." Georgiana had to pause to swallow. "Father. I… I thought I might come stay for a short visit. I may have said too much last night and wish to offer my support here. Only for a few days, of course, I wouldn't want to be underfoot. Then I'll be off, and you can––"

He gave a slight shake of his head. "You have your own home, Georgiana. A household that needs you and a husband who expects you there."

The mention of such a man made her tense up. When Emma shifted, Georgiana loosened her grip on her sister's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she murmured before turning to face their father again.

"I would like her to stay," Emma announced bravely.

"That isn't your decision," their father said.

"Father, please," Georgiana tried again. "I'm sorry for my behavior. I didn't mean to insult you. Allow me to make it up to you."

He held her gaze. "You can do that by returning to your home, Georgiana. You no longer belong here."

A lump formed in her throat, for she knew that was the truth. She no longer belonged here, not really. She hadn't for some time. Maybe even before she got married. But the problem lay in the fact that she didn't belong in her husband's home either. She couldn't stay there.

"I understand. Two days, then. It's all I ask. I will stay out of your way, I'll tend to Emma, and then I shall take my leave," she pleaded.

"When you have a perfectly good home so close? There is no reason for you to be here. As you can see, Emma is well cared for and has a schedule to adhere to. You wouldn't want her to be late to tea, would you?"

Georgiana hesitated. He was paying attention to Emma and talking to her. It was a very big change. She couldn't very well ignore it, but the timing was not ideal. "Well, no, not exactly. I wouldn't want to keep you."

"Then you should go."

Is he forcing me out? He cannot mean it!

Staring at him, she tried to think of her options. "I can't. I can't go back, Father. Please just give me this. I won't ask you for anything ever again. I swear it to you."

Her father gave Emma a pointed look before shaking his head. "Emma, say goodbye to your sister. I'm afraid she needs to be on her way home—where she belongs. We do not shame our families by leaving them, and I will not allow us to be embarrassed. You're a duchess, Georgiana, and we are your family. You need to act with grace. I know you were raised better than this. London will not hear of a duchess hiding away in her father's house."

As he spoke, Emma clung to Georgiana, who held onto her in return. She stared at her father while trying to hate him. Her eyes burned as more tears threatened to fall.

Judging by her father's tone, there was simply no chance to negotiate with him as she had hoped. The hurt stung. Georgiana hugged her sister one last time.

"I wanted you to stay and have cakes," Emma whispered.

"I know. I know." Georgiana exhaled to calm herself. "Father is right. I should have been polite and requested an invitation. So, I shall go away and write to you so I can come again soon. Then we shall eat all the cakes."

Her sister pulled back. "Promise me about the cakes."

"I promise." Georgiana kissed her cheek. She let out a pained laugh when Emma wrinkled her nose and departed. Then she turned to her father, who was watching the little girl as well. "Do you despise me this much?"

"No." He turned back to her. "You're my daughter, Georgiana. I'm proud of how far you have come. That is exactly why you cannot return. We do not move backwards. You should know this by now."

All she could do was blink. Her father's stern words reverberated through her as she considered them.

She wanted to hate him, and yet she couldn't. He didn't hate her either. It was a fear she had for a long time. The way he had treated her was never cruel, though she wouldn't call it kind.

Even though she had told herself that he loved her in his own way, Georgiana supposed she had always worried about what her father really thought. But his words helped now. She could understand it. He was, in his own way, trying to help her. He didn't know everything about what she did and why she did it, but he wasn't entirely wrong.

And she hated that.

I wish I could run far away. I wish I could run into my papa's arms and feel safe and hidden from the world. All I want to do is flee from the pain of the truth. But Father is right. I hate it, but I cannot run away from everything. I have to face my husband once and for all.

Nodding slowly, Georgiana met his gaze. "Thank you."

His eyes widened in mild surprise. It appeared like he wanted to say something more. But at last, he nodded and then walked off, leaving her there on her own.

What happened next, she knew, she had to do alone.