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“Well? What did she say?”
Now it was time to pack his trousers. Those were in the wardrobe. Henry walked to it, but Rafe blocked his path.
“Stop. You sit while I do the rest. Watching your horrible packing is making my eye twitch.”
Henry flashed him a smile and obeyed. “She was sympathetic, but I got the sense that she was holding something back.”
“Well, it’s a hell of a story. Perhaps she just needed time to think it over.”
“Rather convenient then that she has to hurry back to London now,” Henry muttered.
Rafe looked surprised. “You can’t truly think she’s trying toavoidyou?”
“It feels that way,” he admitted. “And we already agreed to go our separate ways once we returned.”
“Is that what you still want?”
“No.” The word shot out of him like a cannon.
“So tell her then. The worst she can do is reject you. And then you will be exactly where you are now. Or you can be brave and take the chance that she feels the same way as you and is also equally terrible at talking about it.”
Henry let out a dry laugh. It was certainly possible. “You’ve grown quite wise in your married state.”
Rafe chuckled. “It’s a wonder what happens to a fellow when he finds his perfect match. I do wish you can have that as well,” he added quietly.
Henry glanced away, but he couldn’t ignore the hope still welling inside him.
Rafe folded a few more articles of clothing before tucking them away in the bag. “There. All packed up.”
“Thank you,” Henry said as he reached for the bag.
“Any time, my friend. Any time.”
Chapter Seventeen
At Calais, Georgiana boarded the steamer with a knot in her stomach. Sylvia had done a fine job interrogating her back at the hotel, but she still couldn’t voice her deepest desire, nor the guilt that had been plaguing her since the night before last. All Georgiana would admit was that yes, something had happened between her and the captain, but they had no plans to continue seeing each other back in London. He certainly hadn’t expressed any desire to, and Georgiana was, frankly, too afraid to ask.
“Why, though?” Sylvia had pressed. “The worst thing he could say is no. And then you’ll be back to where you started.”
Georgiana wished that were true. That she could still be the same woman she was last week. But the last few days had filled her with a need that terrified her. Enduring her marriage to the viscount had been very painful at times, but being rejected by Captain Harris would be so much worse. She had flown too close to the sun, and the plummet back to earth would be the punishment for her indulgence. Besides, some things hadn’t changed. If the papers found out about their affair, they would be merciless. And she didn’t want Captain Harris’s business to suffer because of her. She had already done enough.
“My lady?” Bea’s voice cut through her tangled thoughts.
Georgiana turned to her maid. “Sorry, Bea. I was building castles in Spain.”
“I was just asking if you needed anything from me before I retire.”
Georgiana had purchased a separate berth for Bea so she could have a little privacy. It had been a long journey, and, as usual, Captain Harris had made himself scarce. But it was better for them both if he kept his distance, and she needed to get used to being alone again. “I’m fine, thank you.”
Her maid gave a nod and left. Once she was alone, Georgiana let out a breath and settled on the bed. She had closed her eyes for just a moment when the sound of urgent tapping on her door woke her up. The last few nights had caught up to her.
“Coming,” she said groggily as she rose to her feet and shuffled to the door. Bea must have forgotten something. But when she pulled it open, she came face-to-face with Captain Harris’s scowl.
“I was about to knock down the door,” he hissed as he entered the cabin before anyone saw him. “What on earth were you doing?”
“I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“I wasn’t worried,” he insisted, then his face fell and he pulled her into his arms. “All right. Iwasworried. And now I feel foolish.”
