Chapter Twenty-Three
Dear Miss Bingley,
I realise we met only once, but Laurel and I had such a wonderful time at the party by the lake last week. We wondered if you and Miss Darcy would like to come to tea with us at Ruddock House? Perhaps Wednesday next? I have enclosed a map with our house clearly marked in case your carriage driver does not know the way, though Laurel says that all carriage drivers are born with maps of England engraved on the inside of their eyelids. I do hope not, for that sounds rather painful.
Yours affectionately
Yours sincerely
Yours, in hope,
Miss Emily Chester
The weather, which had turned grey and foreboding, succumbed to a full-fledged thunderstorm in the late morning and early afternoon. It would have been a perfect day to spend curled up together in front of a roaring fire, in Caroline’s opinion, had it not been for the sting of hurt she still felt about theabrupt way in which Georgiana had sought to immediately distance herself the night before, or the way Miss Darcy had contrived to employ herself by such means that she had managed to evade Caroline for most of the day.
She finally cornered Georgiana in the drawing room. “Good grief, Georgie, will you at least do me the justice of telling me why you are avoiding me?”
“How can I possibly be avoiding you,” said she, scribbling on a piece of parchment with an air of supreme industriousness, “when you follow me into every room? Avoidance suggests that I have in fact managed to shake off your pursuit, which I have yet failed to do, despite my best efforts.”
Caroline stepped closer. “Forgive me for my ignorance, but I rather thought”—she lowered her voice—“what with it being my first time last night, that perhaps you might be a little kinder to me afterwards.”
Georgiana looked up. For the first time, Caroline registered the red rims of Miss Darcy’s eyes and the purple shadows underneath them. Evidently she hadn’t been the only one who’d endured a sleepless night. Georgiana threw down the quill. “Yes, very well. You have me there. A churlish mood overcame me, but you did not deserve it directed at you.” She rose, though she did not make any attempt to approach. “I had hardly thought you the sort of woman to require sweet nothings and coddling,” she muttered.
“I did not say I required anything of the sort.” Caroline took a step back, further stung by Georgiana’s sour tone. “But I thought...” She hesitated. She did not know what she had thought, only that she had expected something a little softer. “Surely, Wickham did not leave so abruptly.”
As soon as the words were out, she regretted them. Shereally did not want to know what George Wickham had done or not done in the privacy of Georgiana’s bedchamber.
A muscle jumped in Georgiana’s jaw. “In fact, he did leave, after the very few times we—” She broke off, then cleared her throat. “He was afraid we would be caught by my brother, which I thought a very sensible approach. You would do well to emulate that good sense.”
“I have an overabundance of good sense,” Caroline retorted. “I just choose not to apply it when it comes to you, for some reason. And since your brother is about one hundred and fifty miles away at present, he can provide no excuse unless he has powers unknown to me.” She straightened, pulling back her shoulders with more confidence than she felt. “I thought you enjoyed yourself last night. I know I did. In fact, I know you did, too.”
“Infernal woman,” Georgiana said, though her words now lacked bite and her lips twitched in unmistakable amusement. She advanced a step, then another, bringing her within kissing distance. “You give me no peace.”
Relief washed over Caroline. “Had you really wished for peace, Miss Darcy, then I doubt you would have embarked on an affair with me.”
“Oh, you have no idea how true that is,” Georgiana breathed, her eyes brightened by passion. She leaned closer, then stopped only an inch away, waiting for a response. “Kiss me, then, and let us make up.”
“No. I meant what I said,” Caroline said, despite wanting nothing more than to press against Georgiana’s mouth and forget the world entirely. “You hurt my feelings last night, and I cannot kiss you until we address the matter.”
“Oh. I hadn’t realised you—” Miss Darcy drew back, her dark eyes searching Caroline’s own. “In what way? Why didn’t you say so at the time?”
“You dismissed me so quickly. Was I repugnant to you after you achieved your satisfaction?”
“Heavens, no! I—” Georgiana swallowed, then raised a shaky hand to touch Caroline’s cheek. “I am sorry, Caroline. Forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. I suppose I simply...” She shrugged, as if helplessly adrift. “Feelings which I thought I had long suppressed returned with alacrity. I suppose I felt rather exposed. You do remember that the last affair I had ended in betrayal?”
“I do.” Caroline lifted her hand and placed it over Georgiana’s, feeling it trembling under her touch. “I may not be the best version of myself yet, but I can promise you this—there is no version of me who would ever betray you.”
“Easy to say. Far harder to do.”
“I mean it.” Caroline drew in a ragged breath as she tugged Georgiana closer. “I care for you.”
“I care for you, too.”
“Then kiss me, Georgie,” she whispered.
Her heart pounded as Georgiana leaned forward. Why did this feel so different, somehow? Perhaps it was because the other times they’d been throwing themselves at each other, it had been during a fit of pique or lust or both. There was something thrilling about the idea that Georgiana was kissing her back because she wanted to, not because she was irritated or lustful or some other complicated emotion that Caroline had yet to figure out. This felt different. Intentional.
Possibly even romantic, one might say.
