Page 40 of A Scarred Wallflower for the Duke
Georgina groaned out loud, burying her face in her hands. The self-disgust she had carried for so much of her life had kept her from believing that Vincent might truly have feelings for her. And now this foolish game she was playing might cost her her one chance to ever be truly happy.
I have to tell him the truth.
The sudden thought caught her off guard, and yet it felt somehow inevitable. If Vincent truly did have an interest in making her his wife, she could not continue to play these childish games. There was far too much at stake. Not just Lydia and Lord Renshaw’s happiness, but her own and Vincent’s too. She would ask him how he truly felt about her, and be bold enough to tell him the same.
Tell him how her body longed for him. How he was always in her thoughts. How he made her feel more beautiful and confident than she had ever imagined possible.
Georgina stared into her own eyes, trying to conjure up her courage. This was without doubt the boldest—and perhaps most foolish—thing she had ever thought to do.It is also the right thing to do. This game has gone on long enough.
She drew in her breath and marched from the retiring room before she could change her mind.
ChapterTwenty-One
Her heart racing, Georgina made her way back toward the ballroom. She found herself rehearsing her speech in her head.
Your Grace, I am afraid I have been deceiving you. There is nothing between Lord Renshaw and me.
And then the far more terrifying:
It seems I have developed feelings for you…
But when she got to the ballroom, Vincent was nowhere to be seen. There was Lord Renshaw, chatting with Lydia and Marcus. But there was no sign of the Duke. Georgina made her way down the passage toward the terrace. Perhaps she would find him outside.
She passed a sitting room toward the end of the hallway. The door was slightly ajar, and she briefly considered peeking inside. After all, it would not be the first time Vincent had sought escape in such a place. But before she could open the door, she caught the name, “Lord Renshaw.”
Georgina froze. It was her grandmother’s voice.
“You are absolutely right, Your Grace.” Georgina realized her grandmother was speaking with the Dowager Duchess of Levinton. “I simply cannot imagine what would possess the Baron to show an interest in Georgina. She is a bright girl, yes, and I care for her very much. But as a wife? Surely not. Surely, not even a baron would stoop so low as to marry a lady who looks as she does.”
Georgina’s stomach rolled. A flush of rage at her grandmother shot through her. Part of her wanted nothing more than to hurry away from the door. Avoid whatever disparaging comments her grandmother saw fit to make about her. But something made her stay.
“Well,” the Dowager Duchess said airily, “you know there are some men who have aninterestin such things.”
“An interest?” the Dowager Viscountess repeated. “What kind of interest?”
“I mean…” The Dowager Duchess lowered her voice conspiratorially. “They become ratherexcitedby, shall we say,curiosities of nature. Ladies who do not look like the rest of us.”
Georgina felt tears prick her eyes. She pressed a hand to her mouth to prevent her desperate sob from escaping.
“Yes,” she heard her grandmother say. “No doubt that must be what is happening here.” She gave an airy laugh. “I must say, I never imagined that timid little Renshaw to be the type. I suppose one never really knows what goes on behind closed doors.”
Georgina hurried away from the room, unable to hear any more. The tears she was unable to hold back spilled down her cheeks and she threw open the first door she came to, stumbling out into the dark garden. Lamps from the terrace above cast a rusty glow over the lawns and she shied away from them, seeking the most shadowed, invisible corner in which to hide herself.
Georgina hunched over, sobs racking her body. The Dowagers’ words circled through her head.Curiosities of nature… Ladies who do not look as we do…
They were right, of course. Every word they said was right. She was a curiosity of nature. And no man in his right mind would ever see fit to marry her. And here she was about to go to a duke and tell her how she felt about him.
Thank the Lord I overheard the Dowagers’ conversation before I found Vincent…
Georgina gulped down her breath, trying to stem her tears. But the harder she tried, the harder they fell. She thought of standing in the seamstress’s parlor as she measured her for a wedding gown. For one foolish, fleeting moment tonight, she had dared to imagine she might actually have a chance to be a bride. Become someone’s wife. And not just anyone—someone she truly cared about.
Now she saw just how foolish she had been. Even if, by some miracle, Vincent did see fit to make her his wife, she would be a source of eternal embarrassment to his mother. And likely, to her own family as well. She could not put any of them through such a thing.
Best I hide myself away. Best I put away these foolish notions of becoming any man’s wife.
The sky opened suddenly, sending fat drops of rain pelting into the garden. Unwilling to go back inside, Georgina rushed for the shelter of the nearest tree. She pressed her back up against the trunk, but beads of rain found their way through the branches. She lifted her face upward, letting the rain mingle with the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she ought to return to the ballroom. No doubt Lydia and Lord Renshaw would be looking for her. But she couldn’t bear for them—or anyone—to see she had been crying. The Dowagers’ conversation had reminded her of just how much of a spectacle she was; she had no intention of adding to that by appearing in the ballroom soaking wet, with her eyes swollen with tears.
