Georgianna: The Last Real Duchess (The Real Duchesses of London) (8 page)

She blinked. "He needed fresh air?"

"Those were his words. Will there be anything else?"

"No, that will be all.” The urge to ask if Richard had truly ridden all the way here and then gone out for fresh air was strong, but she resisted. It was clear her husband was avoiding something – and deep in her gut she knew it was she.

#

He was avoiding his wife. There was no other reason Richard was still atop a horse. And unlike the gelding he'd ridden from London, Brutus, his new stallion, was not a gentle ride. He might never walk again.

And yet he did not return.

In truth, he'd come from London to see Georgianna. These past months without her had been so empty. He'd been convinced it was the right thing to send her home, but day by day he'd missed her. And so he'd come, hoping for . . . he knew not what.

He'd decided that the only way forward was to talk to her – only that meant talking to her. He didn't know what to say and, frankly, he was frightened of confronting her after all this time.

Hence, this ride.

Pulling back on the reins, he drew to a halt.

This was not accomplishing anything.

He had come home to claim his wife and it was time he got on with it.

Turning back, he stared down at his home. He'd lived here the majority of his life, but never before had he gazed down at the great estate and thought of it as his. The gray stone manor house spread out, its wings arching about the large courtyard. Behind it lay gardens filled with both grand views and hidden treasures. It was a house any man would take pride in, but it was also a responsibility, as was the woman who waited within.

What did he want from Georgianna?

A second son would be desirable. He could not pretend that he had no interest in ensuring the ducal line. He'd made promises to his brother and he always kept his word.

Only he'd promised to love and cherish his wife and he certainly hadn't kept those promises – he'd never meant to.

That was the heart of all the difficulties between them. He'd been a callow and selfish youth and made mistakes because of it. Mistakes Georgianna was all too aware of.

Was that what ate at him? What had driven him here now? The feeling that he'd treated her badly, dishonorably?

God. He felt like an indecisive girl up here dithering about what to do.

A man took action. He didn't debate for hours.

With a tap of his heels he sent Brutus down the hill toward the great house – and the woman within it.

#

The heavy front door slammed shut, the sound echoing back to the parlor in which Annie sat, staring down at her book. A glimmer of late afternoon sun still shown through the window. The book's pages had not been turned in the last ten minutes. She wasn't even sure it wasn't written in ancient Greek.

Richard had returned. There was not another person in the house, probably not in
the entire county, who would have dared to let the door close with such force. The footmen acted as if they competed to see who could manage not to cause even a creak.

But Richard slammed. He always had when he'd visited in the past. He moved through the world with such force that a wind seemed to grow behind him.

He was back.

She put her book aside, not even pretending, and turned to stare at the door to the corridor.

Would he come?

He should. He always had before. But then, he'd never gone out for fresh air after riding all the way from London.

Steps sounded in the hall, coming her way.

She should smile. She'd certainly had enough practice, but she could not force her lips to move.

She stared – and waited.

Richard entered the room, his cheeks flushed from his ride.

For a moment, the barest flash of breath, she thought she saw joy mark his features, but then it was gone. He stopped just inside the door.

Was he going to say something? Should she?

"Robert is taking his supper in the nursery.” It wasn't what she'd meant to say, but they were the only words that came to her lips.

"I know. I asked before I came in. I do want to see him before bed. I would hate to miss him," Richard answered.

A small glow of anger grew in her chest. If he didn't want to miss his son perhaps he should try living in the same house as him for more than a day at a time. And what of her? He stayed away for months and then didn't even bother with a greeting? She shouldn't care. She'd decided to deaden her heart to him, but still . . .

"Then perhaps you should not have gone riding." She kept her voice soft, but knew the censure was still there to feel.

"I was told he was napping."

"And you thought he slept for more than three hours?" This was not how she had planned their reunion. She'd been confident she could keep it civilized.

"I didn't know how long he slept."

And didn't that say it all. A father who didn't know how long his son napped. She knew she was being unfair. Most parents in their circle probably had no idea when their children slept. That was the job of the nursery staff, but still, she couldn't help feel the anger. It was easier to feel it for Robbie's sake than her own.

Looking away, Annie tried to find her earlier calm. "I am glad you are here."

"It is good to be home." He sounded almost sincere.

Why have you come? Why now? The season had already started.
The questions skipped through her mind. He should be in London. How would the House of Lords survive without him? She smothered a snort at the last thought. "How long will you be staying?”

"At least until the planting is complete. I need to get to know the running of the estate. I am afraid I did not pay enough attention before . . .” He let his voice trail off.

"It is a new life we lead now." If she found it difficult moving from lady to duchess, how must Richard find all the responsibility of the duchy? He made it seem so natural, but perhaps that was just a mask.

"That is what I came home to discuss." Richard walked the rest of the way into the room and sat down across from her. His long legs almost brushed her skirts.

Was he actually going to tell her why he was here? She hadn't thought he'd bother. "Is there something I need to change about my behavior? Discuss can be such an ominous word."

He ran a hand through his already rumpled hair. "I certainly don't mean to be ominous."

"I suppose I am simply on edge. It has been rather awhile since we talked."

"You don't count the fifteen words we spoke when I passed through on the way to the Cornish property.”

"I do believe we spoke more than that. There were so many arrangements to be made." She ignored his attempt at humor.

"I am sure you are right.” Richard dropped his gaze, began to tap his thumb against his knee.

They were quiet then for a moment and she wondered if he would leave. It would be the normal thing to do. He had made his greetings – at least almost. He had mentioned Robbie. What more did he need to say?

"God, this is difficult.” He looked up at the ceiling, seeming to admire the plaster roses that marked the corners.

"I don't see why.” Her voice remained flat.

"Georgianna," he said her name with care.

She looked over at him. "Yes?"

"I would like us to begin again."

"I don't understand."

His cool brown eyes lowered to meet hers. "I think we need to begin our marriage again, to forget the past and start fresh."

"I don't understand.” She knew she was repeating herself, but could not help it. Her mind refused to go where he was leading.

"I am tired of living in an armed camp. I believe it is time that you start acting like a wife."

And you a husband? Do you even know how?
She bit down on her tongue to hold back the words.

"I would admit that we have both made mistakes in the past," Richard continued, "but I think we need to set them aside and move on."

"You do?" She felt like she was choking.

"Yes. I do not see that it should present any difficulty."

"You don't?" Soon he would think she was a babbling idiot.

"We are decided then. We will start anew as man and wife.” Richard rose as if the matter had been decided.

And suddenly it all crystalized in her mind. She stood as well, ignoring the half-foot of height between them. "No," she spoke the single word with force.

"No?" It was his turn to repeat.

"No. I do not wish to act your wife. I may have no choice in the facts, but I have control of my own actions – and my answer is no.” Without waiting for his response she fled the room, and then the house, finding stillness only when she had reached the far corners of the rose garden.

Chapter Six

Richard could only stare after Georgianna, stunned. That had not gone at all as he had expected. He'd hoped she would be grateful. Hadn't she always acted like she wanted him back? Well, maybe not always. She certainly hadn't wanted him back when she'd asked him to leave after Robert's birth, but ever since she'd seemed to believe they should spend more time together. But maybe that was because of Robert, because of their son. Perhaps she only wanted him to be a better father.

And that was nonsense. He was a proper father. His father had been a proper father and he was the same. Affection was not a necessary part of fatherhood. What was important was teaching a son to be a man, to be a duke.

And that was the core of it. If he'd been less involved in his child's upbringing in the past it was because Robert had always been destined to be a duke and he'd agreed that Paul would be responsible for teaching the boy the lessons necessary.

Now that Richard was the duke that would have to change. He would teach his own son what was necessary.

Granted the boy was not yet three and it seemed a bit early for the task.

So what did Georgianna expect from him?

Georgianna. Would he ever understand her?

When they'd married, he'd thought he'd understood her perfectly – what a joke.

She was impossible.

The answer to everything had come to him on the ride back to the house. They would simply go back to where they had been all those years ago. They would forget everything that had happened and start fresh.

Georgianna would love him again.

It had seemed so simple until he'd walked into this room and seen his wife sitting here, her expression not at all welcoming.

And she hadn't even asked how he'd been. She'd simply been angered that he hadn't seen Robert yet.

He'd thought that she'd forgiven him that night after Paul's death. He knew she hadn't been happy to be sent back to Harsgate, but that his own grief during his brother's burial had stopped him from trying to reach her then. He thought she'd have realized that he'd sent her back to make it easier for both of them.

But now? What did she have to be so angry about now?

Didn't she understand that he was ready now, ready to be her husband with all that entailed?

A low laugh started deep in his throat.

No?

She actually thought she could say no to him?

He would have to show her it was not an answer he was prepared to take.

#

She loved her roses. Annie buried her face deep in the rich blossoms, enjoying the softness of the petals, ignoring the slight scratch of the thorns. Deep red. Pale pink. Glorious yellow. Innocent white. It mattered not.

Her roses never failed her. They bloomed throughout the year. Even in mid-winter the occasional bud might spring forth, spreading beauty and hope.

Hope. She wasn't feeling hope now despite the wonder of the blooms.

How the bloody hell – she let the curse fill her mind – did Richard believe they could just start again, ignore everything that had happened? He was an insensitive boor. Every time she began to trust him he hurt her again.

And this had hurt more than she could have believed. How could he offer her hope when all he gave her was pain?

She could handle his coolness. She'd taught herself to be strong.

If it hadn't been for the wonder of that last night before she'd returned to Harsgate, she might still be strong. The anguish of that last morning could not be forgotten, however.

He had needed her and she had given him her all – only to be sent away, to be paid less attention than the dog.

She would not be hurt again.

Straightening up, she went and sat on the small bench in the corner, surrounded by the towering arbors of blooms. If Richard thought she was going to offer him her heart and soul again he was sadly mistaken.