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“Stupid me,” she muttered as she leaned against the wall. “I need to have some of you,” she murmured with a frown.
Picking a bunch proved difficult when the world wouldn’t stop moving, but she managed eventually. Thankfully, Ruth had foreseen the need to use a chaise in the conservatory, and it was close enough for Georgiana to plonk herself onto with her precious bounty. She eased her legs up with a contented sigh, plumped up numerous pillows, lay back, and began to eat grapes while she took occasional swigs directly out of the bottle because she had been unable to bring a more dignified goblet with her.
“Georgiana? Is that you?”
Georgiana groaned and stared at the foliage. Had it just spoken to her? She lifted the bottle in her hand, squinted at it, and took another sip just to make sure it hadn’t. Satisfied that it posed no threat whatsoever, she popped another grape into her mouth and savoured the sweetness as she chewed.
“Georgiana?” Will stared in astonishment at the sight of Georgiana, seemingly in her cups, dressed like any wanton harlot would be in a crimson and black dress; the decolletage of which displayed rather too much for any polite company. Nipped in at the waist, it left little to the imagination–or maybe it was the fact that her skirts were rucked up to her knees displaying her bare and extremely curvy legs. Either way, he struggled to remember why he was there.
“What on earth are you doing?” He asked in stunned surprise.
He couldn’t decide whether to lambast her for being so scandalous, stare at her in shock, which he was already doing, or laugh at the somewhat befuddled way she was staring at the plant as though it had just spoken to her. He eyed the bottle she kept swigging out of and suspected that the half that had been drunk was the reason why she was struggling to sit upright and had yet to figure out that he was there.
Georgiana frowned and struggled to concentrate through the haze that had taken over every corner of her head. It was difficult to even remember where she was but she was certain the plant hadn’t talked to her. When the sound of footfall beside her broke the silence, she screamed–loudly, and tried to get off the chaise only to find her legs wouldn’t hold her up at all now.
“Oh, Lord,” she whispered not for the first time.
“Give me that,” Will ordered briskly, and promptly snatched the bottle out of her hand.
She looked so damned delightful that he was struggling with the urge to kiss her the way his body demanded he must.
“Will?”
“Just what are you wearing?” He looked down, into the deep ‘v’ of her cleavage and immediately wished he hadn’t when raw need slammed into him and stole his breath as well as his common sense. “Good God,” he groaned, praying for the fortitude to get through this.
“Eh?” Georgiana stood and frowned at him, then realised what he had said. She peered down at herself she squinted against the bright colour and beamed a smile at him. “It’s new. Do you like it?”
Will coughed and shook his head in disbelief. He loved it–on a more personal level. As long as she never stepped outside of the front door, and nobody else ventured into the house to witness her like it, then he had no problem with it–or wouldn’t, if he was her lover and was able to take it off her every chance he got.
“Good Lord, Georgiana,” he muttered, desperate to keep his mind off the delicious display of her curves wrapped in silk and lace. “What’s happening? Why are you doing this?”
When she didn’t appear to have heard him he stepped forward and tried to relieve her of the bottle only for her to tug it away from him and issue him with a scowl that was nothing short of dangerous.
“Get your own,” she growled with uncharacteristic menace.
“I don’t want any,” he replied calmly but firmly. “Give me the bottle, Georgiana. You have had quite enough for one day.”
“How do you know?” she demanded defiantly. “You are not taking my bottle. It’s mine.”
“Give.” He waggled his fingers but she refused to relent.
She clutched it protectively against her chest and scowled at him. “Go away. Why are you here?”
“Where is Ruth?” Will asked, hoping to take her mind off the bottle.
“Gone. Away. Somewhere,” she mumbled.
“Is she due back?”
Georgiana shrugged and scratched the back of her head.
“Yes. She has gone to see Mrs Merr-menner,” she muttered. “She’s sick.”
“She won’t be the only one in the morning,” Will replied knowingly. When Georgiana didn’t appear to have any idea what he was talking about he nodded to the bottle. “Was that full when you opened it?”
Georgiana lifted the bottle and squinted at the contents.
“I found it,” she murmured. Determined not to allow him to see just how much the room whirled, Georgiana placed a casual hand on the chaise beside her only to realise belatedly that it was too far away.
