Page 81 of Counting on Love

Chapter Twenty-Three

Georgiana heard laughter. Looking ahead, she saw Olivia and Alice had broken into a run.

“Not here. Not now,” she said, shaking off Reginald’s hand. “Come. We shouldn’t be dawdling.”

He looked relieved rather than disappointed. They hurried after the others, but walking, not running. It made Georgiana feel old. She hadn’t run since she’d left Marbury, and even then, the last time she remembered doing so was chasing after a puppy that had been digging in the garden. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d run sheerly out of exuberance.

The folly had been built in two main parts, separated by forty or fifty yards, with a low, broken wall of bricks connecting them.

“This is supposed to be the ruin of the cloister,” Olivia said, standing beside the larger structure with Alice as Reginald and Georgiana drew near.

Georgiana could imagine that it had once been an abbey’s cloister, a small one; there was a squarish outline, a few standing pillars and several more broken ones, and a single, rather substantial brick wall.

“We’d hide back there,” Reginald said, gesturing to the wall. “Behind it, there are a few niches that we claimed were the nuns’ cells. Olivia believed it for the longest time.”

“And that over there,” Olivia pointed to the other structure. “That was the kitchen and refectory. There’s a hearth there. It’s safe to build a fire in it, though we haven’t done that in ages. We used to have picnics here. Come see. Come see.”

Alice followed readily, but Reginald said, “Go on. Georgiana and I will look around here first.”

The girls scampered away. Reginald waited until they reached the other structure and disappeared beyond its archway. He led her into the “cloister,” to sit on a brick bench cut into the wall. She sat very still. He did also.

Reginald cleared his throat. “Did you reach any conclusions?”

“The last three or three-and-a-half years are fine. Whatever the expense was, it seems to have been resolved.” She knew her speech was stilted, but she was having trouble speaking at all. She didn’t want to do this. She wanted to be back in the library. With him. Suspended in time. “I don’t think you need have any qualms giving a new steward the ledgers.”

“But you have no idea what those expenses were?”

She hesitated a little too long before shaking her head.

“Huh.” He looked toward the ground. “It worries me more that you won’t tell me what you found.”

She didn’t want to lie to him. “Please don’t be worried. I think that what matters is not what I might have found buried in the past, but what you all have now. You and your family.”

His brow furrowed. “And what you discovered will hurt my family?”

“No!” She wished she had never stuck her nose where it didn’t belong. “No, it shouldn’t. But why take the chance?”

He gave her a long look as if debating whether to press her. She shook her head. “It’s done with, Reginald.”

He drew back, startled, or wounded. Then asked haltingly, “Done with?” He put his head in his hands, rubbed his temples, then looked at her again. “We should not risk the chance.”

She felt it again. That jolt. That love. That desire.

He must have seen it in her face because he reached for her. With both hands. He grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her close. Then he kissed her.

Georgiana dissolved into his arms.

They kissed and they kissed and they kissed. She didn’t think she would know what to do, but it was the most natural thing in the world. She kissed not only his lips but his chin, his cheeks, his eyelids, the way he kissed hers. He parted her lips with his and they kissed as if trying to meld themselves into one. He pulled her closer, until her leg draped halfway across his lap. And then she was on his lap. And his hand slid from the back of her neck to her shoulder to her breast.

She made a noise. An involuntary noise. It was surprise, not protest, but Reginald stiffened and pulled back. He shifted her from his lap onto the bench and stood up.

“We should not—I should not—I won’t, don’t worry, I would never say anything to Jasper.”

“Jasper?” For a moment, the name meant nothing to her. Then it meant everything. Of course, Reginald would not tell his brother about this. But to think that that was what worried her? He’d say nothing for her sake?

“He means to ask for you. To have you for his countess.” His voice shook. “Of course, you know that.”

Yes, she did know that. But she did not appreciate having Jasper’s intentions thrown into her face. She stood up as well.