Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

" S o?" Olivia jumped to her feet the moment George walked into the drawing room of Firman House after leaving Emma.

"So what?" George asked, though he had a feeling he knew where her curiosity was headed.

Jane held an equally curious glint in her eyes. "One of the footmen told the butler that the coachman informed him that you were going to the Dewsbury residence," she responded. "We want to know what happened," she added.

"Did you see Emma?" Olivia asked, just as impatient.

"One question at a time, ladies. I am but one man," George chuckled lightly.

"He is laughing, Aunt Jane. So, I take it there is good news," Olivia said, her eyes never leaving George's face.

"I am indeed marrying Emma," he finally announced.

Twin squeals of excitement erupted from the women. "Oh, I have never heard better news," Jane exclaimed, hugging her niece in ecstasy.

George watched the women celebrate; their joy abundant. As he stood there, the enormity of everything finally dawned on him. He was to marry Emma, the woman who had captured him in ways he was still grappling to fathom.

"Fetch the finest wine we have," Jane instructed a footman. "We must toast to this splendid news." Her face aglow, and George smiled. "You have made us all very happy, George. Emma is a remarkable young lady, and you are fortunate to have won her heart."

"I am the fortunate one, indeed," George replied, unsure he had won Emma's heart. She was in a state—due to the scandal—where her judgment was compromised. "Emma is everything I could have hoped for and more."

Jane's smile softened. "You must promise to cherish her always."

"I give you my word," George said solemnly.

Yes, this marriage was the result of a scandal, but George knew that he cared deeply for Emma and would do anything for her. Yet he found himself questioning his ability to protect her from society's judgment. She was everything a man could ever dream of in a woman. He did not deserve her.

Suddenly feeling weighed down, he turned, leaving the celebrating duo, and made his way to Alexander's study. As George oversaw most of the Firman estate affairs, he made more use of the room than its actual owner.

Shortly after he had settled into some ledgers and steward reports, a brief knock came on the door before Jane walked in.

"Are you done celebrating already?" he quipped, attempting a light tone.

"Not when the man of the occasion suddenly left the party," she returned, taking a seat opposite the great oak desk.

George sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I needed a moment to collect my thoughts."

Jane studied him, her eyes soft with understanding. "It is a great deal to take in, I imagine." She sat in studious silence for a moment, her gaze searching before she finally asked, "What is on your mind, Seymour?" Whenever Jane called him by his title, he knew she was serious.

"I am a happy groom," George returned lightly, attempting to deflect the question.

"For a happy groom, you seemed quite withdrawn after making the announcement in the drawing room," she said.

"Aunt Jane?—"

"I know you, George, and I know something is bothering you. So do not lie to me."

George fell pensive, his facade crumbling before her perceptive gaze. Finally, he gave in. "What if I cannot protect her from society's scorn and judgment, Aunt Jane?" he said.

"You underestimate yourself," Jane replied, offering him an encouraging smile.

"You sound like Alex," George smiled wanly.

"Well, he must have gotten it from somewhere, now, do you not think?" she quipped. He chuckled in spite of himself.

"I feel as though I have brought this upon Emma," George continued. "Because of my inability to stay away from her, I have embroiled us in a scandal. She might have to face the consequences despite our marriage."

"I do agree that society can be unforgiving," Jane said. "But if you had stayed away from Emma, you would never have found your heart, much less followed it, and she would have likely ended up marrying that old Marquess. Would you have wanted that fate for her, George?"

"I would be damned before that ever happened," he responded.

"Then that is all you need to know that you did the right thing and are more than capable of protecting her," Jane reassured, her tone gentle.

George gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you, Aunt Jane."

"Olivia is already making plans for the wedding breakfast," Jane laughed and clapped her hands.

"Why, someone running faster than you in party preparations? Unbelievable," George teased.

"She's learning fast," Jane chuckled. "I'm proud of her," she added, and they laughed together, the sound filling the room with warmth. "I best leave you to those ledgers now." Jane got to her feet.

"Splendid idea."

"Do not tempt me to sit back down, George." She scowled at him, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. George laughed once again. "Oh, and Seymore." She paused at the door. "Do not allow fear to keep you from giving her your truth. In all its forms." Her gaze softened as she said that.

Long after Jane's exit, George found himself mulling over her last words to him. Perhaps he did owe Emma the truth. All she knew was what society had fed her. It was time she heard it from the source.

He would call upon her, he decided.

"Oh, I cannot remember the last time I had such a breathable meal without your father's suffocation," Caroline said as they shared a drink in the drawing room after dinner. Shortly after George's departure earlier, her father had stormed out of the house in indignation and was yet to return.

"I cannot agree more," Emma said. Considering she had skipped breakfast and found herself quite famished by evenfall, she had indulged quite a bit in the most sumptuous meal of mutton, potato soup, and cheese pudding.

"How do you feel?" Caroline suddenly asked.

"Well, I am not marrying the Marquess of Neads. I think that summarizes everything," Emma let out a shaky breath, still unable to believe it all.

"Indeed," her mother agreed happily.

"It feels unreal, Mother," Emma sighed, her emotions a whirlwind of relief and disbelief.

"A most fortunate turn of events," Caroline said dreamily. "Oh, Emma, I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am for you. Seymore cares about you, and I know he will make you an excellent husband," she added just as the butler appeared with the announcement of a caller.

"This late?" her mother said in surprise.

They were even more surprised when George was announced.

"Forgive my late and unexpected visit," he said, bowing slightly as he entered.

"Oh no, not at all," Caroline was beside herself. "Would you like a glass of port? Or perhaps some tea would be better?" she offered.

"I think I would prefer a walk in the gardens instead, My Lady," George said, his eyes meeting Emma's with a silent question. "Emma?" he offered, extending his hand.

"Oh, as a matter of fact, Emma was just talking about getting some air before you were announced," her mother was quick to answer in her stead.

"A convenient coincidence then," George gave Emma a look that told her he knew differently. She couldn't help but return his surreptitious smile.

Emma accepted his proffered arm. "It is a beautiful evening," she remarked as they walked through the garden.

"So much so that I could not stay indoors," George agreed, his tone light.

"Is everything all right, George?" Emma asked, her voice tinged with concern. She could not help the sudden worry that came over her, wondering why he had called at such an hour. Surely his visit was not without a purpose?

"Quite all right," he reassured her, but then grew pensive. Just when she began to despair of him speaking, he finally said, "I came to apologize to you, Emma."

Emma looked up at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Apologize? Whatever for, George?"

He stopped walking, turning to face her fully. The moonlight cast a gentle glow on his features, highlighting the sincerity in his eyes. "For the scandal, for the haste of our engagement... for everything that has caused you distress. For my initial suspicions of you. For my rudeness and interference." He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "The list is quite a long one, I am afraid."

"Your suspicions were not without grounds after all," Emma admitted.

"And your actions were not without good reason either," he said, taking her hands in his. "I owe you an apology, Emma. And I hope you will, in time, find it in your generous heart to forgive my many faults."

Emma gazed up at him, scarcely believing that this contrite and humble man before her was the same George she had practically been at war with throughout the house party. His transformation filled her with a tender warmth.

"Why, you are making the lovely evening so grave, George," Emma dismissed playfully, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. When she saw the gravity in his expression, her light spirits faltered.

"A few years ago, I was involved in a carefully orchestrated scandal," George suddenly said, his voice heavy with the weight of the confession. "The honorable thing would have been to offer for that lady. But I refused to pay a price in a wager I held no part in. I told myself that she would have to deal with the consequences of her own dishonesty, thus earning my less-than-respectable reputation in society," he added, his tone tinged with regret.

"I do not care about those rumors, George," Emma said, her voice firm and unwavering. She wondered why he was suddenly making a journey to the past. Was he perhaps trying to elevate himself in her regard? It was unlike him. And besides, she had never cared about his reputation in society. She never cared for those rumors, even if they held a shred of truth.

"Oh, but those rumors are true, Emma," he said ruefully. "She found me alone and forced herself into my arms. We were discovered and her parents asked me to offer for her. I refused to do what was deemed honorable to punish her." A shadow passed over his features. "Sometimes I wonder if I should have married her. The rumors had been quite difficult to bear."

"They were a lie."

"She never married, and I felt somewhat responsible at some point."

Emma touched his arm. "This happened through no fault of yours," she reassured him.

"Society does not care about the truth. The truth is never enough to ease the expectations and lessen the judgment," he responded, his voice filled with a bitter resignation.

"If you had succumbed to those lies and expectations, George, we would not be here right now, would we?" Emma did not care if she sounded selfish at that moment. Because she felt it. She wanted to be. For this man, she did not mind being selfish.

"We wouldn't," he agreed with a languid smile. But Emma couldn't shake off the sudden uncertainty she picked up about him right now.

Was he perhaps regretting his decision to marry her? Was that the true reason for his apology and unsolicited explanation of the past?

She suddenly felt quite apprehensive as she asked, "Are you unsure of your decision to marry me, George?"

"Oh no, do not misunderstand me, Emma. I am quite certain I wish to marry you," he quickly corrected, his expression earnest. "After all, this is inevitable. Since we were seen together," he added, his voice carrying a hint of something that sounded almost like resignation.

Emma paused, her heart squeezing at his words. The way he phrased it—inevitable—made it sound as though their marriage was more of a necessity rather than a choice freely made out of love. She searched his face, looking for signs of genuine affection, needing to know his true sentiments.

Emma had been thrilled at the prospect of marriage to George, her heart alight with the hope of a union founded on affection rather than mere obligation. Yet, as the shadows lengthened across the garden where they strolled, she found herself yearning for a deeper connection, one that transcended duty.

"Well, in this instance, I must concede that your earlier misgivings about my intentions, and your vigilant care for Alexander, were perhaps not entirely misplaced," she said, her voice a playful murmur as she sought to infuse a touch of mirth into the weighty conversation.

A sudden, harsh croak shattered the quiet, causing Emma to flinch. She turned towards the sound, her eyes wide with surprise. "Are you afraid of frogs?" George's laughter rippled through the air, a sound both warm and teasing.

"That was far too robust for a mere frog. Surely, it was a toad, George," she retorted, her cheeks coloring slightly as she defended her reaction.

"Same family," he replied with an insouciant shrug, his eyes gleaming with amusement in the moonlight. This was the man from the house party, the one she hoped would always be there. "And yet, it still made you jump."

Emma shot him a mock stern look, her lips twitching as she fought back a smile. Eventually, she relented, joining him in laughter.

His expression brightened, an idea clearly taking root. "You know, I have an estate in Dorset. A castle by the sea, with a pond on the grounds that is quite populated with both frogs and toads. I am quite certain you would find it enchanting."

"The pond filled with frogs and toads?" she echoed, laughter bubbling up again. "Do you truly know what enchantment is?"

"I believe I do." He grinned. "The seaside, Emma. I meant the seaside," he clarified, his fingers tenderly squeezing her hand. In that gentle grasp, she felt a flicker of hope that perhaps his heart might one day echo the silent vows of hers.

"A castle by the seaside sounds magical, George," Emma responded, her mind filled with a dreamlike wonder.

"We shall go there after the wedding," he promised. "And perhaps I can show you how to fish for frogs," he added, a playful edge in his voice.

"Fish for frogs?"

"Yes," George said, adopting an exaggeratedly solemn expression that only served to make him appear more comical. "I spent the better part of my early childhood scouring that pond for large frogs," he continued, his tone warming with the fondness of cherished memories.

Emma's curiosity piqued, and she tilted her head, "And what was your childhood like before you lived with Alexander's family?" she inquired, eager to know more of his life before their paths had crossed.

George's smile softened. "I barely spent any time indoors," he confessed. "My nurse always had a leading string on me when I was learning to walk because I would always wander off into mischief."

Emma laughed. "I was quite adventurous myself," she admitted. "I attempted to climb trees several times, much to my parents' horror."

"Really? And did that tame the adventurous spirit in you?"

A strict governess had indeed been brought in, but Emma's spirit had been indomitable. "Never," she declared proudly.

"As it should be, my darling." George gently took her hand and brought it to his lips. Their eyes held, lost in a quiet yearning.

But the moment was fleeting. "I must leave now," George murmured reluctantly.

Emma felt a pang of longing as he stepped away, her heart already missing the light of his presence. She wished she could pause time so he wouldn't have to leave. Alas, that was a power beyond her. George left.

As she climbed into bed later, she found that she still felt quite uneasy after his apology and abrupt confession of the past earlier. It was difficult to understand why she felt this way, but the feeling only intensified as the night bore on.