Page 55 of Her Duke's Second Chance

“Your right ring finger is crooked!” Georgiana exclaimed. “Why is that?”

She swayed a bit as she tried to focus her blurry eyes on Robert’s finger.

Robert also looked down at his hands, which she held in hers. “Oh…well, that is an amusing tale. When I was a young lad of five I fell out of a tree. One of our estate cats, Stubbles, had climbed up the big oak tree in our garden and got stuck. I had to climb up to get it and though I got the cat down safely, I slipped from the last branch, fell to the ground, and broke my finger.”

“Oh no.” Her mouth turned down sympathetically, her state of inebriation making her exaggerate the gesture more than usual. “It must have hurt.”

He laughed at the memory, shaking his head. “It was quite painful. The housekeeper had to give me quite a bit of laudanum to calm my screaming.”

She looked up at him with interest. “You screamed? I cannot even imagine it.”

“I screamed and cried for my mother. My father was quite disappointed in my inability to be stoic, I assure you.”

She caressed his finger gently. “Well, I am sure you did the best you could. Was the surgeon not able to straighten it?”

“I was lucky not to lose it.”

She shivered with horror and gripped his hand tightly. “Poor boy,” she cooed sympathetically.

“It was quite a long time ago. I do not feel pain anymore aside from when it is about to rain.”

Her brow furrowed. “But…is that not nearly every day?”

He huffed in amusement. “It does feel that way sometimes, but no.”

Cradling his right hand in her own, she covered it with her left hand and placed it in her lap before looking up to meet his gaze.

“Stubbles was lucky to have such an attentive owner.”

“I expect you know quite a bit about being attentive. Especially with Daisy.”

She shook her head. “Daisy poses no problem so long as she has enough space to pursue her daydreams. She loves to paint, skip in meadows, and bask in the attention of others. If she is not ignored she is fine. It was hard sometimes, growing up, to find the attention she craved. Our parents seemed to understand her need and made that extra effort with her. She was our little princess, always primped and pampered by everyone.”

He put his left hand atop hers, squeezed it, and leaned close to look into her eyes. “And you, my dear? Did anyone pamperyou?”

Her eyes slid away as she recalled her constant struggle to make sure the entire household was fed, and that they had enough firewood to keep warm, even if she had to go out and gather twigs herself.

There was certainly no room for pampering.

“Tell me about your life growing up,” Robert urged.

She shook her head slowly. “I cannot.”

“Why?”

“Because it is a secret. Mama and Papa always said that we could never let anyone know what dire straits we were in, otherwise they would be pariahs.”

“Why?”

She shrugged still not looking at him. “I do not know. That is just what they said.”

“Plenty of noble families have pockets to let or are in dun territory. It is hardly remarkable.”

“Yes, well…for my parents it was.”

“Well, at least it is now all in the past.”

“Indeed.” Georgiana swayed back and forth as she offered an exaggerated nod of her head in agreement.

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