Page 8 of Winning the Wallflower's Heart
Georgiana didn’t feel much like making a friend, though heaven knew she needed one. Sure, she had acquaintances in London, but it had been easier to remain alone. She hadn’t trusted her brother or father around any of the social set, and she had hardly been in it, even when they thrust her into a Season, determined to see her married to solve their money issues.
That hadn’t worked either.
“Ye need to eat, dear,” Hester insisted. “Let me help ye. Let him help ye, Georgie.” She swallowed hard before continuing, “He’s ‘ere to make sure ye’re cared for. Ye’ll do no one any good lying in a heap on the floor.”
Georgiana knew that. But she wouldn’t do anyone any good married to Ellis, either. What a ridiculous prospect.
She scoffed quietly to herself, peering up at the ceiling and laying her head back for a moment, letting the weight of the world’s problems wash over her. She had left Pickins House this morning, certain she was taking fate into her own hands, certain she would save herself. And once again, she found herself being saved by Ellis instead.
And though eight years had passed, she didn’t love him any less. But she would always be her brother’s little sister, Georgie.She couldn’t stomach being thought of that way, especially not by him.
“I’ll leave the bowl ‘ere then, dear,” Hester said. She reached over, her hand hovering above Georgie’s before patting the bed instead and standing. “I’m happy ye woke up, and ye’re well. I’m happy ye’re ‘ere. He’s a good man, dear. Protective to the core, that one is. Fight it if ye must, but I promise ye, he won’t give up. That I know of Lord Linfield.”
Hester left the room, leaving Georgiana alone. She stared at the bowl, then at the empty doorway, and back at her lap, letting the woman’s words sink in. It was almost as though Hester knew Ellis—knew him well, as if he were family. That only made Georgiana realize how little she knew of him now. Yes, she had seen him in London ballrooms from time to time. She hadn’t even read about his engagement in the papers—only written a letter and stored it away after she read of his fiancée’s early death.
Then there had been the years of not seeing him, of living with the ghost of him in London, always searching, always hoping, yet always feeling shameful by her own hopeless love for a man who had lost someone he loved dearly.
It was an impossible situation. She could never marry Ellis. She would always be a burden to him. And as Hester had said, he was protective to his core.
And Georgie loved him too much for him to play that role for her.
She set the bowl down, pushed herself to stand, and scanned the room for her clothes before a familiar figure filled the doorway.
Ellis tookthe stairs two at a time, finally able to peel himself away from the busy floor. The club was in good spirits and betting high after the auction. But none of that mattered when he had carried Lady Georgiana upstairs to a guest room to recover after fainting at his marriage proposal.
And now, he leaned against the doorframe to keep his disappointment in check. She wavered on her feet, digging through the small bag of hers set on the bed.
“Glad to see you’re awake,” he said coolly.
She spun, a shawl wrapped around her wrists as she was about to stuff it into her bag. “Hmm.”
“Have anything to eat?”
Georgiana’s eyebrows rose in confirmation before continuing, clearly set on leaving.
But he couldn’t allow that. Not now.
“Hester makes delicious soup.” He scratched his jaw, trying to hide his embarrassment at such a ridiculous statement. After losing Dinah, he’d kept to himself. Was never much interested in finding love again if one’s heart could break the way his had.
Still, he thought he could speak to a woman. Confusing why he was suddenly tongue-tied.
He stepped into the room, pausing to close the door behind him but then deciding to leave it open. Ellis didn’t wish to frighten her, and he had caught her flinching earlier when he approached her.
“Where are you going?”
She continued digging through her bag, her head bent with fierce focus. Long blonde hair draped over her shoulder, and her dress hanging loosely on her frame, unfastened.
“Georgie?”
She inhaled sharply, snapping her eyes up to his. Wild, startled, and such a breathtakingly deep hazel.
The very same eyes that had pierced his soul all those years ago when he pushed into Pickins House, demanding she be warmed up after being shut outside.
“Please, don’t call me that, Lord Linfield.”
He scoffed at that. “Are we to be so formal? Are you to be Lady Georgiana here? You just auctioned off your virtue to the highest bidder.”
“I did what I must, sir.” Her hands shook as she stopped and stepped away from the bed, her voice thin as the coupe glasses he had ordered from Perrin Geddes & Co. “And you won. Is that why you’ve returned?” She turned, moving her hair aside so he could access the fastenings to her dress. “Could you, please?”
