“Yes, that is the consensus,” Georgie said. “He wants to depart for Gretna Green at first light tomorrow.”
Evie cocked her head at Georgie’s lackluster tone. “Do you not want to marry Lord Grenton?”
“I do,” Georgie rushed to reassure her, “but Lord Grenton is only marrying me to give me the protection of his name.”
Mrs. Carter spoke up. “He is doing the honorable thing.”
“Yes, but will he come to regret doing so?” Georgie asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” Mrs. Carter replied, “but I do believe you two have genuine affection for one another.”
Georgie shook her head. “I do not presume that Lord Grenton cares for me. He didn’t speak of affection or anything like it when he offered for me.”
Mrs. Carter gave her a kind smile. “Sometimes it is most difficult to see what is right in front of you.”
“And what is that?” Georgie asked.
“Love,” Mrs. Carter said simply.
Georgie put her hand up. “I said nothing about love.”
“You didn’t have to,” Mrs. Carter responded. “I can see how Lord Grenton’s eyes light up when he sees you. He appears to be smitten.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t seen it.”
“You will. Just give it time,” Mrs. Carter encouraged.
Georgie gave her a weak smile. “If you will excuse me, I have to prepare for our trip.”
She departed from the drawing room and hurried up the stairs, having an intense desire to be alone. She stepped into her bedchamber, closed the door, and leaned back against it before slowly sliding to the ground
Was she making the right choice? She truly wanted to marry Lord Grenton, but she was scared—scared that he would never return her affection.
ChapterEighteen
Logical.
Georgie’s words replayed in his head. Their marriage would be logical, yet it was so much more. Why couldn’t Georgie see that?
William ran their conversation through his mind as his coach rolled towards Miss Ashmore’s townhouse the next morning. He’d had a fitful night of sleep as he wrestled with the fact that he would need to work harder to secure Georgie’s affection. He meant what he’d said about turning their marriage of convenience into a real marriage. He would prove to Georgie that he was the man for her by loving her unconditionally.
Love.
Yes, he did love her. The revelation had come in the wee hours of the morning as he stared up at the ceiling. If he was being honest with himself, he’d started to fall in love with her the moment that she first defied him. No one had dared to do so before. She challenged him to live a better way than he had been.
The coach stopped in front of Miss Ashmore’s townhouse and a footman stepped off his perch and approached the building. He had just reached the main door when Georgie slipped out with a valise in her hand. The footman accepted the valise and hurried to open the coach door.
Georgie stepped into the coach and sat across from William. She was dressed in a dark blue traveling habit, and her hair was pulled back into a tight chignon, which was mostly covered by her matching bonnet. William had always found Georgie to be beautiful, both inside and out, but he suspected that she was quite unaware of the effect her presence had on him.
“You aren’t wearing black,” William commented.
Georgie shook her head. “Mrs. Carter didn’t think it was appropriate for me to be married in mourning, so Evie let me borrow her traveling habit.”
“You look lovely.”
“Thank you,” Georgie murmured.
“I thought it would be best if I remained in the coach, in case anyone was watching,” William explained.
