Page 18 of Winning the Wallflower's Heart
Hell, they were the only family he had now, and truth be told, he’d do anything for them both.
With a nod, Ellis turned and headed up the stairs. The cheerful sounds of children’s laughter drawing him forward. His steps slowed at the doorway, catching a glimpse of the scene inside before fully entering.
The room was awash in color and light, with children scattered about, holding brushes or pointing proudly to a sprawling mural across the far side of the large room—a castle, a fire-breathing dragon, a princess, and a large sun in the brilliant cyan sky. And in the center of it all was Georgiana, twirling with a little girl in her arms, laughing freely. Paint streaked herhands, and a bright yellow smear crossed her cheek. Her honey hair was loose, curls framing her smile.
For a moment, Ellis simply stood there, transfixed. She wasn’t just Sam’s younger sister, or the woman he’d married out of a sense of duty. She was Georgiana—radiant and resilient, her spirit unbroken despite everything she’d endured.
The sight of her, so unguarded, stirred something deep inside him. Three weeks since they were married, and he had barely seen or talked to her.
He was a damn fool.
Ellis stepped into the room, and she glanced up, meeting his gaze. Her smile was soft, hesitant, and his breath caught.
“That is… incredible,” he murmured, glancing at the mural, then back at her.
She brushed her hands on her apron, though it only spread the paint farther. Georgiana laughed quietly to herself, then shrugged. “The children did most of it,” she said, admiring the mural with fondness. “I just helped.”
He took in the mural’s details, lingering on the familiar yellow flowers. After silence stretched between them, he quietly added, “You bring light into places. Do you know that?”
Her brow furrowed slightly, as if unsure what to make of his words, but she said nothing. She just looked at him, waiting.
He wanted to say more, wanted to tell her that she brought light into his life, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he reached out, brushing a thumb across the smear of paint on her cheek, his touch lingering.
“Ellis?” she asked softly, her gaze searching his face. A glimpse of the same hesitation flashed across her dark eyes—the same he had seen when they were married.
He swallowed, his voice almost a whisper. “You’re stronger than you know, Georgiana.”
Her eyes widened, and for a long, quiet moment, the world seemed to fade around them even as the children’s laughter and chatter swirled in the background.
Ellis lowered his hand and stepped back, the realization settling deep in his bones—he was falling for her, completely and irrevocably.
“Hester!”
Ellis crossed his arms at Dinah’s grandmother who was furiously knitting.
“Not now, Ellis. I need to beat Esther.”
The older woman sat hunched in the small parlor he set up for her upstairs, separate from the gaming hell. Now with a bride, it was beginning to feel a little crunched trying to cram everyone under one roof. Maybe it was finally time to find a home of his own.
“We’ve a competition to see who can knit the biggest blanket by tomorrow.”
He tapped his boot, glancing up at the ceiling for a sliver of patience. After Dinah’s passing, Hester had been there to help Ellis move on and to help mediate the business venture between him and Dinah’s brother, with whom he operated a few silver hells in the East End. Eventually, Ellis decided to go after moneyandpower and open an exclusive club that peers would be eager to join.
“Shaw told me you needed me.”
“Oh, yes.” She placed her knitting needles in her lap and looked up with a grin. “I needed to know if ye remembered ye had a wife. After ye ran from the orphanage two days ago, I wasn’t sure.”
“I didn’t run.”
His heart hammered in his chest at the mere thought of her. Yes, he remembered he had a wife now, and he did his best to see her every need met. Well, every need beyond the physical. Which might have accounted for why he dove into work at the club in the weeks following their wedding with such fervor. He was too tired at the end of the day to seek her out, and it helped numb the thoughts he had of her.
Of kissing her. Of feeling her skin beneath his trailing fingers. Of enjoying her body.
Damn it.
He balled his fists tight and slammed his eyes shut, annoyed with himself. He wouldn’t dare touch her.
“No meddling, Hester. Please. I’ve no time?—”
