Page 35 of Much Ado about a Widow

“I did no such thing.” Georgie fanned her hot face with her hand. That wasn’t how it had been at all. Not really. “He was shivering, and the sailors went to get blankets and hot tea, but they took so long, and he seemed to be worsening. I couldn’t stand there and watch him hurting and do nothing, could I? I just couldn’t.” Plopping down into the chair, she put her face in her hands. Even if there had been nothing untoward in her gesture, if word of it ever got out, her reputation would likely suffer.

“It might have been harmless, my lady. But it may not have looked so.” Clara shook her head sadly. “Here, stand up. I need to get those wet things off you before you take a chill.”

Silently, Georgie complied, standing like a statue as Clara stripped the sodden clothing from her body. Her attitude toward St. Just had gone from disdain and loathing this morning to admiration and compassion in the span of a few short hours. The possibility that those feelings would continue to change, or perhaps grow, gave her pause. She’d not thought of enjoying passion with a man in a very long time. When contemplating marriage with Lord Travers, neither passion nor even affection had ever crossed her mind. That union would be based on duty to her family alone. She had already experienced the perfect love of a husband in Isaac Kirkpatrick. In accepting her father’s choice of husband, she had understood that her lot in life from now on would not include that deep abiding love that had made her marriage a heaven.

Only now she’d discovered similar stirrings for another man.

Clara dropped a fresh, warm nightgown over Georgie’s head, and she pulled it down over her body, smoothing it with her hands.

What might it be like for his hands to touch her like this?

She jumped when another hand brushed her neck, an eerie chill racing down her spine.

“Did I shock you, my lady?” Clara busied herself with smoothing down the collar of Georgie’s nightgown.

“Yes, you did, rather,” Georgie said, moving away from the maid to sit at the table. Her legs were suddenly not steady at all. If St. Just had experienced anything like the heat and desire that had poured through her body when they clung together on the icy deck, shouldn’t she at least consider the possibility of him as a suitor? Their first few meetings had not been auspicious by any means, especially the one in this cabin yesterday afternoon. However, he had more than made up for those shortcomings by rescuing Lulu. At this very moment Georgie could have been prostrate on the bed, weeping for the loss of her beloved pet, had it not been for St. Just.

Of course, Lulu would never have gone over the side if his lordship had not spirited them away to his ship, but that was neither here nor there. The point now was that he’d risked his life, and very nearly lost it, saving the animal.

And he’d been so solicitous about her health this morning, making certain she was cared for and received the proper treatment. Although his methods, and the enjoyment he seemed to derive from them, left much to be desired from the man.

Georgie sighed. Lord St. Just could be seen either as her savior or her tormenter, depending on how you chose to look at him. As always when she had a problem to solve, she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Somehow that always seemed to help her arrive at the best solution. And the dilemma of how she truly felt about Lord St. Just was a thorny one that might require more than that for her to chew on. A royal banquet might not even be enough to allow her to disentangle the difficulty posed by this particular marquess.

* * *

Tucked into his bunk under half a foot of blankets—each of his men had gladly contributed one from their own bunks—Rob finally ceased to shiver. It had taken him seemingly forever to remove the one remaining article of his clothing. He’d been shaking so hard he thought he’d never shed his sopping small clothes.

For the first time he cursed his refusal to bring Lovell with him. Rob never did when sailing, finding freedom from his valet part of the adventure of the sea. Well, that decision might just cost him his favorite pair of boots. The seawater had soaked into them, and Rob had no idea how Lovell would care for them. They sat over in the corner where Chapman had thrown them when they’d finally brought him down to his cabin. When he got up, in a month or two perhaps, he’d set them upright and hope the valet could salvage them when he got home. Meanwhile he’d have to wear the spare pair he kept on the ship, though they didn’t feel as good as the others.

Turning onto his back, quite a chore under all this weight, Rob cautiously brought his arm out from beneath the covers and settled it behind his head, his favorite position for sleep. The cabin had warmed remarkably after Ayers had stoked the stove, so Rob could relax and drift off to some much-needed sleep.

The trouble was, despite all that exertion in the water and the cold that had exhausted him even more, he wasn’t sleepy in the least. All thought of sleep had fled the moment Lady Georgina had pressed her body against his. At that moment, he’d thought himself dreaming some erotic fantasy that was a precursor to death. Would have continued to believe it had it not been for the hard evidence of her coat tossed onto the deck and retrieved by one of the sailors. If the coat was real, then surely all the rest was as well.

He closed his eyes so he could better live that moment again when her breasts had first rubbed against him. Even through the layers of clothing and stays, the sensation had been so sensual his nearly frozen cock had stirred to life. As it was again now, simply remembering her warm and soft in his arms.

God. He blew out an exasperated breath and pounded his forehead with his fist. The lady was his best friend’s youngest sister. Brack would hang him from his own yardarm if he even suspected Rob had had carnal thoughts about her. He had to think of something else, something not amorous at all. Why was his mind a blank, save for the image of Lady Georgina in her blue dress, the fabric sticking to her chest and arms where she’d grasped Lulu. And him. Rob groaned. This was going from bad to worse.

He stared at the low ceiling of his cabin, searching for some problem there that could claim his attention, but absolutely nothing presented itself. They were heading once again for the Cornwall coast; the waters had calmed somewhat, so likely the lady wouldn’t be ill again. A fortunate circumstance, despite the removal of a perfectly good reason for him to visit Georgina.

Damn. He’d inadvertently slipped and called her by her first name earlier, when for one agonizing moment he’d believed she’d been about to jump over the rail after the animal. Not an unforgiveable sin . . . However, he mustn’t slip up and call her that without being invited to use her first name. Society frowned upon gentlemen who did not abide by that rule. He hoped she had been too distraught at the time for it to register. If not, he was sure he would hear about it in a matter of hours.

“Grrrr.” His stomach rumbled loudly. No wonder. He’d had breakfast and precious little else all day. The cup of tea Ayers had brought had been delicious, but Rob could do with something a bit more substantial. In fact, a full meal would not come amiss, now that he thought of it. He consulted his pocket watch on the table beside the bed. Lucky thing he carried it in his jacket rather than his breeches, or it would have been lost to him like his boots. The hands stood at ten minutes past seven o’clock. No wonder he was ravenous and not at all sleepy. The warm bed might be inviting, but he wouldn’t linger here. Not alone. The thrill of his adventure had left a definite ache in his groin he’d love to appease.

The image of Lady Georgina lying in his bed, naked, her marvelous red hair fanned out over his pillows, made him catch his breath. His cock sprang to attention as well, eagerly bumping against the sheet. God, this would never do. Why had he become infatuated with this woman? Other than the fact that she was beautiful, witty, and strong. Rob groaned. Such thoughts would surely lead to madness.

Hastily pushing back the mountain of covers, Rob sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as he did so. His vigorous kicking in the water had made his calves sore. Still, hunger outweighed that insignificant pain. He stood, grabbed his breeches, and pulled them on, tucking his shirt carelessly into the waistband.

He’d roust Barnes from whatever he was currently attending to and send him to the galley with instructions to fix a meal of grand proportions. Rob’s mouth watered as he thought of beefsteak, seared quickly so the juices ran freely when cut into. In the past, Barnes had created a marvelous cream sauce for vegetables, rich and filling. Over green beans and carrots it would be splendid. Rounded out with a potato and leek pie, this would be a dinner to savor.

So why eat alone?

The voice inside his head whispered seductively. He could invite Lady Georgina to dine with him. Such an invitation was only polite, and he could make sure she had suffered no ill effects from the cold. From that cold embrace that had flamed roaring hot. At least it had to him. He had no idea whether she had felt anything other than discomfort. She’d certainly left hurriedly as soon as Ayers had appeared with the blanket. She might very well have returned to her cabin and retired for the night, thinking nothing further of Rob.

At that point in his musings he almost abandoned the idea of inviting her to dinner. But he was her host, or kidnapper as she would put it, and as such should make the gesture. He’d speak to Barnes about the dinner, then visit her cabin to ask if she cared to dine with him. Glancing down at his disheveled appearance, he swiftly revised that notion. He’d get one of the men to take her a note. That would give him time to repair his appearance and properly prepare for her company, should she deign to give it. And he truly hoped she would.

When had life become so fraught with uncertainties? That was easy. Ever since Lady Georgina Kirkpatrick had run into him. Would life ever be the same again? Rob smiled and opened the door. God, he hoped not.

Chapter Twelve