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Suddenly, Will stepped back again. Without explanation, he simply pushed her away from him as though he had been scalded, and stared down at her with a dark frown that was full of annoyance. Whether that annoyance was directed at him or herself she couldn’t say. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but the answer was there, written in his eyes. He bitterly regretted what they had just shared - twice.
“I won’t apologise,” she said harshly.
“I didn’t ask you to,” Will snapped. He hated himself for being so harsh with her but she had tested him to his limits. If he kissed her again he was likely to ruin her completely, and then all Hell would break loose with both her parents and his. “I am getting married.”
“I know,” Georgiana whispered.
She stared at him for a few moments longer, silently pleading with him to do something, or say something that would ease the awful tension shimmering between them. With each moment that ticked by, her hopes faded. Here she was, waiting, hoping, praying, that he would declare his affection for her. In spite of everything a small part of her still yearned for him to declare his love for her and assure her that it was her he wanted to marry and not Penelope Smedgrove. But of course, he didn’t. She realised that the precious moment they had just shared was gone now, and would never be repeated. In its wake was a pain that was unbearable.
He doesn’t love you, though, does he? It was obvious that he didn’t.
“I need to go home,” she whispered.
This time, when she left she ran toward the home. This time, he didn’t bother to call her back or follow her. Instead, he watched her, and kept a steady pace behind her until she reached the safety of her parent’s house.
Now that she was no longer a temptation, Will was free to contemplate what had just happened–and the answers he found didn’t bring him one ounce of comfort at all.
Georgiana closed the front door behind her as quietly as possible. Her mother was chattering away with someone in the sitting room. She took a moment to try to identify the visitor but the voice was too muffled. Thankful that her mother was occupied for the time being she turned toward the study. Without bothering to knock on the door, she quietly let herself in and closed the door behind her.
“You are going to get a scolding for going out for as long as you have,” he father warned without looking up from his papers.
“I don’t care,” Georgiana replied wearily. “I am no longer a child.”
When her tone of voice registered on her father, he finally looked up and stared hard at what he saw.
“What the devil has happened to you?” he demanded. Uncharacteristically of him, he stood and rounded his desk only to slam to a halt when his daughter immediately began to back away. “What’s happened? Who did this to you?”
Georgiana forced herself to ignore her shame. The last thing she was going to do was tell him that it was Will who had run his hands through her wet hair, which was wet because she had been skinny dipping. Instead, she tackled the most difficult issue she had ever had to discuss with her father, mainly because her conscience wouldn’t allow her to do anything else.
“I am going to live somewhere else. I leave first thing in the morning,” she declared quietly.
George sighed and resumed his seat. “I don’t give you permission to go anywhere.”
“You don’t need to,” Georgiana warned. “I am not only financially able to live somewhere else, but I am also of an age where I can make my own decisions.”
“You are one and twenty, Georgiana,” George said with an air of dismissal.
“Yes, an age where most women are married already,” she protested.
“Yes, but you are not married,” George countered.
“So I am old enough to marry, but not old enough to make decisions for myself?”
“I shall not have you challenging my authority in this way,” George declared loudly.
“I am not challenging your authority. I am merely stating fact.”
“You are being truculent and insubordinate and I won’t stand for it in this house.”
Georgiana studied him. “No, I don’t suppose you will.”
She knew then that he would never agree to her going to live with her Aunt Ruth, or anywhere else for that matter. It would be far too wayward and take her far out of his, or Cecily’s control.
“I don’t need your permission anymore,” she said quietly.
“You will not challenge my authority whilst you live in this house,” George repeated coldly.
Before Georgiana was given the chance to reply, the door was suddenly thrust open and a distressed looking Cecily stormed into the room.
