“Douse the lights!” Felicity called, and a couple of servants scurried around the room.
Darkness engulfed them, nothing but the blue flames dancing between them and the soft glow of the slow-burning coals in the hearth behind them. It was eerie, haunted, nothing but flickering shadows illuminating their faces. To Georgiana, the atmosphere felt much more fitting for sharing ghost stories than engaging in raisin snatching.
But she didn’t have long to get lost on that errant thought because Felicity was yelling, “Go!” and—blast and damn—Georgiana was shoving her hand in a dish full of fire.
She hoped she wouldn’t get burned.
22
Georgiana
Georgianathoughtshemightprefer sticking her fingers in fire than this. She stood outside her husband’s bedchamber door, willing herself to knock. She wasn’t nervous per se, but her husband had her all turned around, like she’d donned her dress backwards, or inside out, or upside down, or perhaps forgot it altogether.
And oddly enough, she was feeling a bit glum after playing a raucous game of snapdragon with his siblings. That shouldn’t make a smidgen of sense. But somehow the laughter, the sibling banter, and even the playful teasing had made Georgiana feel terriblyalone. Because she had never had anything even remotely close to that. And she never would. Was it odd to feel sad when surrounded by happiness?
The bond the Jennings family shared, the one with snappy quips, knowing what the other was going to say before they even said it… That kind of relationship was something that came from years—decades—of having someone’s love. So, even though the Jennings family had welcomed Georgiana without pause, accepted her into the warm embrace that was their family—an embrace that was sorely lacking in her own family—she was an outsider. She rubbed her chest.
Urgh, again with this bloody hollowness.
And on top of it all, a thick, heavy cloud was settling around her, threatening to choke her and fill her lungs. Because tonight was Christmas Eve. Tomorrow was Christmas. And it would be her first Christmas without Bernie. Her eyes burned, like they were being filled with blasted lemon juice. She closed her eyes and willed the pressure building behind them to go away. She planted her palm against the door and pushed. Pushed all that glumdrum away.
And pushed herself right into her husband’s chamber.
“Whoooop!” She stumbled, arms flailing, and just managed to stay upright. She hadn’t realized the door would beunlatched. She had merely been going for some solid support, hence leaning on a solid door.
Fitz stood frozen, standing just outside his dressing chamber.
Georgiana’s mouth fell open.
Her husband turned toward her. Which only made things worse. Because her husband—whose head was currently covered by a towel he was clearly using to dry his hair—was stark naked. And facing her.
Her gaze shot to his groin.
The towel fell off his head.
Her husband’s jaw dropped.
And then a blush spread rapidly over his cheeks and down his muscled chest. Naturally.
And though usually her husband struggled for air, this time it was Georgiana struggling.Breathe.Oh goodness, heaven, hell, God, Satan, just…someone, something. Because naked. Fitz. Naked.
Her heart rate kicked up so hard, so fast, she thought it might have leaped out of her chest, performing a jig around the chamber. She barely heard her husband’s words.
“Gigi?” he squeaked. His hands flew to cup himself.
Georgiana bit her lip and leaned back casually against his door. “Whoops,” she murmured, placing a hand over her racketing heart.
What a pleasant surprise. Her gaze slowly drank him in, drank in the surprisingly lean-muscled form she had just begun to discover back in his study. Yes, it wasveryclear now—her husband swam. A lot. Her eyes locked on his strong thighs, flexing and unflexing as he shifted back and forth on his feet. Her tongue coasted over her bottom lip because…yum. She wanted to lick every lean inch of him.
Her gaze finally made it back to his beautiful amber eyes—beautiful amber eyes and scrunched brows that oozed disbelief.
“Whoops?” Those skeptical brows lifted even further. “You barge into my chamber unannounced, and all you have to say for yourself is whoops?”
Was that a bit of bite in his tone? Reprimand? Visions of him yanking her head back in his study assaulted her. She dipped her chin and blinked at him demurely.
“My apologies. It hadn’t been my intention to do such a thing.”
He shot her anI highly doubt thatlook. Her face split into a grin. He rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath as he snatched his towel off the ground and—in the most disappointing of fashions—wrapped it around his waist.
