Page 50 of The Duke's Bartered Mistress

How did she manage it? Mary wasn’t able to take a day off to lie in bed and be miserable, was she? She had to work, just like the maids in Father’s house who were so kind to Georgia. Just like all the women in factories and farms and in shops in London.

You are uncommonly lucky.

She really was. Even as tears spilled down her cheeks, Georgia could admit that. In fact, she thought perhaps she was crying because she was so lucky. Or because she was a hormonal twit.

One of the two.

She’d lived the last years under Father’s thumb, desperate to atone for her past mistake. But she’d lived in luxury. Even here at Endymion, where she changed her own bed sheets, she really was lucky to be able to afford to lounge about and feel sorry for herself. Her one role here was to keep Demon satisfied.

And he went away unsatisfied this morning, did he not?

With a moan, Georgia dropped her head into her hands. She was in pain, and feeling stupidly weepy, and now she had to worry about his feelings?

Ugh.

The door swung open and, without a knock, Demon himself stomped in as if she’d conjured him. Her head snapped up incredulously, her gaze taking in the mud on his boots and the scowl on his face. He was carrying a wrapped bundle.

“Wh-What are you doing here?” She couldn’t keep the hope from her voice.

Demon clomped his way over to the bed to drop his bundle, but as he turned, his frown deepened. “I come here every morning.” There was a suspicious look in his eyes, as if he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

Managing to push herself to her feet, Georgia kept the blanket tucked around her shoulders. “Demon, I am sorry, but I do not feel up for one of your visits—”

“I brought ye something,” he barked.

Before she could ask, he strode closer and shoved a box at her. She had no choice but to take it.

“What is—chocolates?” Georgia finished incredulously, peeling aside the wrapping. “You got me chocolates?” Her chest felt curiously fluttery as she searched his expression. “Why?”

His shrug looked a little embarrassed as he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “I asked Mary how to—ye were in pain, dammit!”

She was trying to understand. “And…you asked Mary how to handle it?”

“I asked her how to make ye feel better.” Demon’s attention was locked on the painting above the mantel. “She said chocolates were nice. I got ye some. Her too.”

He bought her chocolates. He bought his maid chocolates, just because she’d been helpful.

Oh dear. Here come the waterworks again.

Georgia bent over the box she held, pretending to focus on unwrapping it, so Demon wouldn’t notice her tears. “That was very kind of you,” she managed.

“What’s wrong?” he barked, coming closer and bending to peer at her. “Ye sound all wrong.”

“I am fine,” she sniffed. “Oh, nougat. I love nougat.”

“Ye’re lying.” His finger found her chin, lifting it. “Ye’re crying,” he accused. “Do ye no’ like nougat? I’ll get ye something else. Cheese? Everyone likes cheese.”

His bluster made her cry harder. She tried to push away his hand to wipe her eyes and cheeks. “I am fine, Demon, truly. Just—just emotional. This was very sweet of you.”

“Ye dinnae want cheese?”

Georgia had to smile. “Not right now, thank you. The chocolates are lovely.”

To prove her point, she popped one in her mouth. The creamy sweetness exploded on her tongue, and she closed her eyes on a sigh. It really was lovely, even mixed with the salt from her tears. On some level, it did make her feel better.

“Och, well…I brought ye a hot water bottle as well.”

Her eyes flashed open in surprise. “You did?” It came out a little mumbled because of the chocolate, and she hurried to swallow.

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