Page 58 of Much Ado about a Widow

“Very well.” She smirked at her brother. “Remember it was your choice when I cast up my accounts all over you.”

Chapter Nineteen

Lulu at her feet, Georgie sat contentedly in her nightgown, brushing her bright, auburn hair a hundred strokes before the mirror, thinking of Rob’s proposal and the life they could have together here at the castle. “It’s rather like a fairy story really, Lulu,” she confided to her companion. “The handsome prince sweeps the poor, downtrodden girl off her feet and brings her to his ancestral estate to live happily ever after.” She switched hands and continued brushing on the other side. “Well, I’m not particularly downtrodden, nor actually poor at the moment, although that will soon be true. Still, he did sweep me off my feet there in the library. I’d say that counts, wouldn’t you?”

Lulu growled, then yipped.

“I don’t know how you can disapprove. The gentleman saved your life, you recall. I am willing to overlook a great deal of his shortcomings because of that one action.” Georgie set the brush down and picked up her cream pot. “Not that he has many, you know.”

Rubbing lavender-scented cream into her hands, she remembered the touch of his lips there on her palm, on her mouth, on her breasts. A shiver of longing raced down her spine. It had been so long since she’d had a man in her bed. Would it be strange, being intimate with someone other than Isaac? Her hand rubbing slowed. She had not stopped to consider that. She’d simply been enjoying the hot, flushed way Rob made her feel again. If it weren’t such a private conversation, she’d ask Elizabeth how it had been for her. But of course, her friend wouldn’t want to speak of it because the man she’d be talking about was Georgie’s brother. Had Georgie known any of this would happen, she’d have asked Fanny while she was in Buckinghamshire. Fanny would tell her bluntly, and follow it up with advice on the subject, most likely.

Still, less than a week from now she’d know from her own experience. She trusted Rob with her life. If he’d wanted to make his proposal memorable, then certainly he’d find a way to make their nuptial night just as unforgettable. “He has been one to make an impression from the beginning, don’t you agree, Lulu?”

Her pet yawned and snorted, then presented herself for her nightly good-night caress. Georgie obliged her, petting her head and silky ears, then scratching under her chin. Lulu replied with a lick to Georgie’s hand, then trotted resolutely into the dressing room. Georgie had seen to a bed for her there with cushions. Lulu had not complained about the accommodations, for which Georgie was very grateful.

Sighing contentedly, she gazed around the magnificent chamber the marchioness had assigned to her. Rather grand for her own tastes, but perhaps, as Lady St. Just had intimated, they did not have many visitors this far away along the wild Cornish coast and wished to impress.

That thought brought Georgie up out of her chair. She padded over to the large window that overlooked the ocean and pulled back the heavy drapes. Chill air assailed her, even through the panes of glass. Still, she pressed her ear against the cold windowpane. Faintly the crash of waves against the rocks at the base of the crags could be heard even this far away. Day after tomorrow they would be out on that wild ocean, with even worse to come when they reached the Irish Sea. With a shudder she turned away and drew the drapes. She trusted Rob, but thoughts of the violently pitching ship made her queasy right here on dry land. She couldn’t think about that right now. It was the only way for them to be married.

Forcing her thoughts away from the journey to come, Georgie made her way back to the massive four-poster bed that occupied the corner of the room nearest the fireplace and next to an oak door. She had tried that door earlier, thinking it led to a servant’s chamber, but it had been locked with no key in the keyhole. A mystery she’d have to ask Rob about.

The magnificent bed, though it held no mystery, did instill a sense of awe in her. Never had she seen a bed so large. Three or perhaps four people could sleep comfortably in it. Spread with a burgundy silk velvet cover with a bold floral design, and matching curtains, the bed looked like a ceremonial dais for some huge monarch like Henry VIII. Not her choice, but she would be content to burrow under those covers. Despite the warmth of the fire, the room was chilly, and her nightgown was thin.

She shrugged off her robe, mounted the three steps up to the bed, and flung back the cover and sheet. Running her hand across the smooth expanse, she smiled. Clara had done her work well with the warming pan. Quickly Georgie jumped in, burrowing beneath the heavy covering and pulling it up to her chin, nice and cozy. Even cozier with two, but that wouldn’t be for some days yet. Pity she could never bring herself to pull the curtains around her bed. The bedcurtains would help keep her warm, she knew, but the idea of being entombed gave her the shivers every time she even thought of it. She’d create her own little cocoon of warmth shortly. Slowly, Georgie relaxed, refusing to think of the challenges she and Rob still faced. Instead she imagined Rob with several little children, some auburn-haired, some dark, running through the maze on a brilliant summer’s day, trying to catch her as she sped for the bench at the dead end. Only the dead end turned into a door. Laughing, Georgie opened it and slipped through and was gone.

* * *

The creak of a real door must have dragged Georgie back from her dream of frolicking in the maze. Groggy with sleep, she listened for the click of Lulu’s claws on the uncarpeted portions of the floor, but no such sound filtered through her dazed senses. A low shushing of shoes sliding across carpet instead. Clara? Why would she be here in the middle of the night? Why would anyone be here . . . ?

Rob. Georgie snapped wide-awake, not moving, but breathing quickly and shallowly. He had come to anticipate the wedding night. What must she do? Surely he must think she desired to after her blunder in the library. Just thinking about that misunderstanding right now made her want to cover her head to hide her humiliation. Not because she hadn’t wished to be intimate with him, but because she had made such a mistake at such a time. So did she want to do it now?

With everything so unsettled regarding Lord Travers and her betrothal to him, she just wasn’t certain it would be wise. In the very heated moment it had been one thing; now that she was being rational, perhaps it would be best to put off the moment. Savor it, as Rob had suggested. Although he hadn’t been talking about savoring that particular moment. Still, he would likely indulge her on the matter. They’d be married in five days, and then the waiting would be over.

The bed dipped as Rob slid between the sheets. She’d forgotten what it was like to have someone sleep beside her, hold her as they snuggled together. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too much temptation if they did that for a while. Smiling, she stretched. “I heard you come in. I know why you are here, and I want to as well, but I think we must wait until this unpleasantness with Lord Travers is past. We will be married soon, so a little restraint should be possible.” She turned over toward him. “However, that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other in other ways.”

“The only way I plan to enjoy myself tonight, my lady, is between your legs.”

The ugly, rasping voice told Georgie exactly who had crawled into her bed. The stench of alcohol merely confirmed that the odious Lord Travers had somehow managed to sneak his way into the castle and find his way into her room. Not for long. She drew in breath to scream the alarm, but a rough hand clamped down over her mouth, stifling her voice and almost cutting off her air.

“Oh, no, my lady. You’re not sounding an alarm until I’m certain it’s me and no one else you’ll be marrying. Once I spill my seed in you, St. Just won’t want you anymore. Won’t want to live with the possibility that his heir is actually mine.” He pushed his hand harder onto her mouth as he shifted his weight, fumbling with her gown under the covers.

God, she could not let this happen. Pushing her gown back down with one hand, she slapped at his with the other.

“Stop that thrashing, or I’ll do more than stop your mouth. I’ve got big hands, my lady.” He chuckled, and her skin crawled. “Hands that can give you pleasure or bring you pain. Or stop your breath until you swoon, real ladylike.”

Georgie froze. She had to have her wits about her if she were to get out of this without being ravished. Slowly, she breathed in. She must wait her chance.

“It won’t be the first time I’ve been in a lady who didn’t know what had happened until I was all done. Fine for me, not so much pleasure for her.” He’d rucked her nightgown up again and proceeded to fumble around his hips.

Unfortunately, she knew very well what that meant. What could she do to stop him from violating her that would also stop him from shutting off her air? He’d trapped one of her hands beneath his body, but he also had to keep one of his hands on her mouth. So they were more or less evenly matched. Breathing slowly and calmly, she tried to take as much air in as she could. At the same time, she stealthily slid her usable hand down between her legs. If he couldn’t get through to her nether parts, he couldn’t hurt her.

Suddenly, he lunged on top of her, his hard member pushing against her fingers then sliding upward. As he moved, something cool and squishy landed against her hand. Isaac had called them his jewels. They were indeed priceless. Clamping her fingers around Travers’s soft flesh, Georgie gave a mighty squeeze.

Travers sat bolt upright, screaming in a loud, high-pitched voice.

“Help! Help!” The moment his hand left her mouth, she screeched aloud, almost as loudly as her attacker. With a mighty shove, she pushed him out of the bed. She couldn’t see him bumping down the steps, but the thudding of his head told her he’d hit at least one.

Wild barking erupted from the vicinity of the dressing room.