Chapter 31

Georgiana was torn. While she was glad to be riding her horse instead of being trapped in the afternoon traffic many carriages already appeared to be in, she didn't particularly wish for anyone to see her.

She surreptitiously rubbed a hand over her face to pat her hair, wiping away a stray tear at the same time.

What was I thinking? It's nearing the fashionable hour, so everyone is going to be out. They're going to see me and know something is wrong. How humiliating. If only there was a better route to get home. I had best get there quickly. The sooner I get there, the sooner this is all over.

Even though Georgiana didn't quite know what she would do once she was home, she knew she had to go back. Her husband needed to be told how she felt instead of just watching her run away. And then she could make her demand that they live apart.

It was what he wanted in the first place, wasn't it? If only I had given him what he desired from the beginning.

Speaking with her father had taken a toll on her. She was already drained because of everything that had happened. She'd had such a restful morning, but that felt like a lifetime ago. There was a nervous energy roiling inside her. It was like that day four years ago when Emma ate an entire cake and bounced everywhere she went. Only this was worse. Georgiana already felt ill to her stomach and couldn't bring herself to look down at her shaking hands.

But it would be over soon. She told herself this over and over. As she considered her options, she weighed what she was willing to handle from a husband and where her breaking point was.

They had reached it, and that was the problem. How could she be with such a deceiving, dissembling man? She would never be able to trust him again. It didn't matter what he tried to excuse; already he had admitted to everything.

She should have believed him from the beginning, she supposed, but her hopeful heart had painted another picture.

"Lady Georgiana?"

Hearing her name, she whirled around to see the carriage beside her. A man's face was peering at her through the open window. His eyes widened in astonishment as she tried to place him.

"It is you! Er, Your Grace, I mean," he stammered out.

It was Benedict. Her mouth dropped open for a second before she clamped it shut. As her hands tightened on the reins, her horse jerked to a stop. Her hair fell into her face while he called for his carriage to halt.

"Go on," someone was saying from inside. "Benedict, talk to her!"

"I am, I am, my dear. Your Grace? I didn't expect to see you. H-how nice it is to see you this day," he said with a self-deprecating smile. He took off his hat and offered a slight bow. "This is terribly inconvenient, but do you have a moment to speak?"

Georgiana hardly knew what to think. She hadn't seen him until the two days before her wedding, when she had met his mother and they'd finalized plans for their union. There had been no letter, no farewell, no explanation.

We might not have cared for one another, but it was such a selfish thing to do. And now he wants to speak with me? He, Owen's cousin?

Remembering the pain in her heart, she began to shake her head. "I don't think that would be best."

"Please, Your Grace!" Out peeped another face. This one was much thinner, with mousy brown hair curled about the cheeks. The woman smiled hopefully. "Please hear him out if only for a moment. We won't be back in London for some time, I fear."

"I…" Georgiana glanced about in the hope that the traffic would begin easing up. But it was slow, and the carriage was already shifting inch by inch to the side of the road. She sighed before nodding. "All right. I'll climb down."

She reluctantly steered her horse to the side of the road and allowed Benedict to help her down.

It was terribly awkward, making her wonder how they would have managed a marriage together. But it wasn't long before the two of them stood before each other under an elm tree while she fiddled with the reins of her horse.

"Talk to her!" the brown-haired woman called from the carriage. She was still watching them. When they looked at her, she waved.

"Ah, right." Benedict tugged at his collar. He smiled sheepishly to Georgiana as he admitted, "That is my wife."

She swallowed, though the lump in her throat wouldn't go away. "Yes, I heard you… were in love with someone."

The man had the decency to wince. "That is right. Yes. I suppose Owen told you. I am terribly sorry, Your Grace, for my actions. I should have been honest with you. From the beginning, I should have told you the truth."

"Yes, you should have." Georgiana glanced away. "But it's done now, and I pray you are happy."

"I am," he responded as his eyes lit up. He glanced back toward the carriage with a fond smile. "I love Florentia with all my heart. She challenges me and adores me. I'm a fortunate man. But that's not your concern, er, of course. You see, I meant to write to you and Owen to explain my actions. The letters came with me all the way to Gretna Green and back, however."

"I'm sure. Well, I wouldn't want to keep you if…" she trailed off uncertainly.

"We're off to live outside of London. It's better for us this way," Benedict explained quietly. His smile remained, but the light in his eyes dimmed. "After everything Owen and I have been through, I think it's best that we are able to live our lives the way we want. Free."

Her spine stiffened. Was this why he really wanted to talk with her? Had he talked with Owen? "Free from the constraints of society, I'm sure."

"Hm? Oh no. No, I mean free from my father. His uncle. The Marquess, he… Didn't Owen tell you?"

Georgiana recalled the argument she had heard between Owen and his uncle the day after her wedding. It was like every man wanted to stab her in the heart all over again. "We have talked enough."

"Ah, then you know. It hasn't been easy, you know. I don't know where I would be without Owen. He's the reason I'm still able to find love in this world. He was able to leave when he came of age and took on his duties. But I can't until my father passes away. Florentia saved me from that. Now, my father can do as he likes without either of us around. I only hope my mother will find the courage to leave as well."

As he spoke, Georgiana furrowed her brow in confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

Benedict shrugged awkwardly and lowered his gaze. "It can't be easy leaving the one you are married to. Father was kind once. He didn't hurt me like he hurt Owen. But over the years, he has become more violent toward Mother, though she won't admit it to me."

"Wait!" Georgiana had to interrupt to try and understand what he was saying. "So you and Owen planned to escape your father?"

"Yes. No. I mean, Owen was always going to be out from under my father's thumb at eighteen. We corresponded after that, but I didn't see him until the day we met you. I confessed I loved another before the wedding, but I didn't tell him about Gretna Green."

She blinked. "I don't understand."

"I know, Owen can be a rather quiet fellow," Benedict said with a nod. "Mother said he was a rambunctious child, but after his parents passed, he grew quieter. That was when he came to live with us. He would hide away in the gardens when he could. Some nights, he even slept out there in the dirt. I always hated being smaller. If I could have protected him…"

Georgiana's heart clenched at the picture of a young boy, scared and dirty, watching the lights of a house go out. She recalled how Owen had lost his parents and wondered if it was still so painful that he could not talk about them. Was that why he avoided her? Why he picked other women over her?

"Owen grew up to be very… different," she said at last, not knowing what else to say.

"Oh, indeed." Benedict chuckled. "That's why I'm glad he has you. I read the newspaper the other day, you know. Very complimentary of the two of you. London will finally know the truth about him."

Georgiana swallowed around the bitter taste in her mouth. "The truth?"

"Certainly," Benedict affirmed, looking pleased. "Owen is a good man. I wouldn't be here without him. Nor would my mother. If he wasn't around, I wouldn't have dreamt of falling in love with Florentia. He's courageous in a quiet manner. All he ever does is bury himself in his estate affairs or his plants. I've heard wonderful things about his country estate's grounds. There's supposed to be quite the greenhouse there. We'll visit sometime if you would like."

"I… I don't know that I shall be there."

He frowned. "Why not? I must admit, I don't know you very well. But I've heard very good things about you, Your Grace, and I believe you even convinced Owen to dance. I've never seen him do so. You must have brought something out in him that pulled him out of the hothouses, where he practically buries himself in the dirt."

"I don't know that is the only place he hides himself." She shook her head at such a crass statement. "I should go."

"Wait." Benedict reached out a hand with a concerned look on his face, before dropping it. "Is something the matter, Your Grace? You are not at odds with Owen, are you?"

Georgiana supposed it could not be denied. "So what if I am?"

"So… so, be patient. Owen promised he would never marry. He wasn't forced to take you, though I am most relieved he did. What I did was very dishonorable. When I went to see him, he still greeted me like we were family, and it reminded me of what a good man he is. He only wants others to be happy, our Owen. The only problem is that I don't think he believes he is allowed to be happy. All he does is hide in his plants and books. I was hoping you might… that you might remind him how good life can be."

The weight of Benedict's words shook her. Georgiana's mouth went dry as she looked beyond him to consider what he had just said. She thought about the letter. Someone had wanted to warn her.

But who is this someone? Goodness, I never thought to ask… Except, why should I if Owen already confirmed everything is true? Did he know what the letter said? Did he write it? If Benedict told the truth, that would mean Owen didn't… it makes no sense.

"Your Grace?"

"I have to go." Georgiana blinked and looked at Benedict. "I have to speak with Owen immediately."

He beamed. "I'm sure he would like that. He didn't want to say it, but I could see he was fond of you. More than fond, really. I just don't know if he will ever say the word," he added while tapping his nose.

"The word?"

"Love, of course." Benedict grinned as he looked back over his shoulder. Florentia waved at them, with a smile on her face. The two of them were quite clearly in love with each other.

Tugging her horse close, Georgiana found she couldn't stay there any longer. Her father had told her to act, and Benedict had shared more than she thought possible. It was time that she took all she had learned back to her husband to make sense of this.

"Oh, er, well, I suppose I'll let you go." Benedict backed up when she climbed into the saddle on her own. "I… We shall see you again, I hope?"

"Yes, perhaps we shall." She then paused. "Thank you for talking to me."

He nodded. "It is the least I could do after my rudeness."

After saying her farewell, Georgiana redirected her horse toward home. The lanes were clearing up, so she was able to make her way back to the house more quickly. Her heart pounded in time with the horse's hooves.

There was no guarantee of what might happen when she arrived. It would not be easy, but she was ready to face Owen once and for all.