Page 7 of Winning the Wallflower's Heart
Rage and sadness stormed inside of him, and he tamped it down, swallowing it to remain gentle. He couldn’t scare her away now that she was here.
“Georgie, I’ve no intention of tupping you.”
“I don’t understand. I may not be as beautiful as every other?—”
“I mean to marry you, Kitten.”
The little color from her face drained, and she crumbled into his arms.
CHAPTER 2
Georgiana’s hearthammered in her chest as she slowly attempted to sit up, realizing only too late that she was sinking into a dreamy mattress.
“Easy now,” a calm voice said from beside her. “Easy. Yer safe.”
The room slowly came into focus, though the edges were still blurry.
“Ye scared us all, miss.”
She swallowed, willing her limbs to move, but her body still felt as though it were drifting miles away from her brain—her thoughts leaping hours ahead.
“I’ve some delicious broth for ye, straight from the kitchen. Now go on, open up.”
The sheets wrapped around her body, and she couldn’t move.
She had been standing in a room with Ellis only a moment ago. Or was it longer? She couldn’t be certain. But it wasn’t this room.
He had been furious with her. He hadn’t said as much, but she had been around anger long enough to recognize it, even when hidden.
“Where am I?” she finally asked, turning to face the older woman who sat beside her.
“Ye fainted, ye sweet creature. Crumbled right to the floor. If it weren’t for Lord Linfield, ye could have bashed yer pretty teeth in.”
The woman’s charcoal hair was tucked beneath a lace cap. Her narrow-set gray eyes blinked back at Georgiana, her thin lips stretching into a gentle smile. “Yer safe now. Have some soup,” the woman said gently, holding out the bowl.
Georgiana peered down at the broth, the spoon hovering in front of her mouth, then looked up into the kind woman’s eyes.
“Go on,” the woman urged.
Georgiana clutched the bedsheets in her hand and reluctantly opened her mouth, taking a sip of the soup.
“It was a busy day,” the woman continued, removing the spoon from Georgiana’s lips before dipping it into the bowl for another spoonful.
Georgiana opened her mouth again, letting the warm chicken broth dance upon her tongue. It might have been the most delicious thing she had ever tasted in her life.
It was strange, sitting there in bed, her mouth suddenly alive with the taste of soup while her heart raced in her ears, trying to stem the panic flooding through her body. She must have fainted when Ellis caught her, and yet—she never should have come here. She never should have thought she could save herself. It was just like that night long ago when, as a schoolgirl, he had pulled her out of the barn, banged on the door of her childhood home, and demanded entry, ensuring she was safe and warm.
Now, eight years later, it was no different.
She had stood on that stage, expecting someone to bid on her. And a few men had. But when Ellis stood in the doorway, her attention had swung to him immediately. He had moved through the room so effortlessly, so sure of himself when he bidon her. And maybe it had been her shame, but she truly hadn’t understood what he wanted from her when he approached her downstairs. She had assumed he meant to take what he had bought.
But of course, he hadn’t.
Ellis was better. He was always better than that.
She turned her head away as the woman lifted the next spoonful, staring out the window. But the day had faded, and the night was no shorter. Now autumn was setting in, and winter was on the cusp in London.
“Ye can call me Hester, miss,” the woman said.
