Page 102 of His Stolen Duchess
Georgina looked from the lake to her left. The Duke stood twenty paces from her, hands in his pockets, watching her. The light was bending him, turning him into a silhouette backed by wondrous hues of orange and gold. He stood still, studying her. She could not see his eyes but could sense what they contained.
He was admiring her.
She sat on the grass with her legs and the gathered hem of her skirt beneath her. She was side-on to him, her hands in her lap, her hair cascading down one shoulder like a waterfall.
He watched her, and she watched him. She could only see his outline, his broad shoulders tapering down to his waist. Thick legs, strong arms, tall, powerful, an oak of a man between the oak trees.
Then he came for her, and she knew by his purposeful stride that he had come to take her home. She felt butterflies in her stomach as that was exactly what she wanted, but she didn’t let her emotions free because she would be returning to a life she had just run from.
Two betrothals and I’ve run from them both. Is this who I’ve become?
She waited patiently by the side of the lake for him to approach her. He eventually did, ambling slowly but purposefully in her direction. As he got closer, he came into the light, and she was able to see him better.
He was handsome, even when he wasn’t trying, but he looked tired. She wanted to get up, touch his face, and look into his eyes, but she wasn’t ready to give herself over to him. She was not sure she would ever be ready.
“It’s a beautiful evening.”
She looked up at him, trying to steady her breathing. “Yes, it is.”
“You look very beautiful, Georgina.”
“And you look handsome, Lysander.”
“Do you mind if I sit with you?”
Georgina brushed her fingers through the soft grass. “You can sit wherever you like.” She didn’t want to sound antagonistic, but a hint of arsenic laced her words because she could not have the man she wanted.
Lysander sat on the grass beside her, looking out across the lake as the colors of the sky slowly changed and reflected in the water. Even just being near him again lifted her mood. She wanted to be his, but she didn’t like the measure of control he had over her, even though he didn’t purposely exert it.
“Your parrot is pining for you,” Lysander said.
Georgina smiled. “He gets lonely. He’s a silly bird, really, and he acts out, but I think it’s only because he’s afraid that he’ll go unnoticed and people will forget about him. Has he been sulking?”
Lysander chuckled, and the sound was like music to Georgina’s ears.
“He has been sulking, standing at the bottom of his cage, so it looks like he’s not in there. I don’t understand why he does that. And the things he’s been saying. I won’t repeat them with a lady present.”
“He has quite a sharp tongue on him at times. Don’t worry, he doesn’t really mean the things he says. He just throws out insults and hopes someone responds to them.”
Lysander picked up a stone from the grass and tossed it out into the lake. It hit with a splash and rippled the still water.
“I don’t know. I think he knows exactly what he’s talking about, and I’m almost certain that he knew exactly what he wanted to say when he hurled his insults at me. He does have a very sharp tongue.”
“Oh, no!” Georgina gasped. “I hope he didn’t bother you too much. I hope the staff was feeding him while I was gone. I left in such a rush that I didn’t have time to talk with anyone.”
“I gave him some treats from his bowl,” the Duke admitted.
Georgina turned to look at his face in profile. “You gave him treats? How long was I gone?”
Lysander smirked. “I believe we have reached an understanding of sorts.”
“An understanding of sorts?” Georgina shifted, twisting on the grass to face her husband. “What have you and Mr. Squawksby been up to in my absence?”
“We need to talk,” Lysander said.
Four little words, but they put the fear of God into her. Four simple little words, but she had the impression they would decide the rest of her life.
She only nodded, afraid to say anything before the Duke said his piece. She didn’t want to embarrass herself.
