No Greater Love (7 page)

“Oh? In what way?”

“We’re from two very separate worlds, and I don’t think I’d given it much thought until today, when you began wanting to shower me with clothes that you can ill afford and a lady’s maid even if you do think it’s the correct thing to do. I’m from a small village in the north, Nicholas. I was a simple farmer’s wife. I have no proper background to speak of.”

“Georgia, I cannot see anything wrong with your background. You speak like an educated gentlewoman, your manner is perfectly adequate, you seem intelligent enough. Is there a mad grandfather I should know about, some hereditary flaw?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about my grandparents, and I have no other family. Do you see now?”

“No,” he said bluntly. “I don’t. What has that to do with anything?’’

“You’ve married me, Nicholas. You, Lord Raven’s nephew, have married a woman of absolutely no consequence. I don’t mind for myself, but people are bound to talk.”

“Georgia, believe me, it would make no difference.”

“Perhaps not to you, but it does to me. I told you how I felt before I accepted your proposal, but I could see that you might lose all that you cared about if I didn’t marry you, and I was in a dreadful bind myself, it is true. And so I accepted you.”

“Yes. You did. So what in the name of heaven is the problem? You haven’t heard me complain, have you?”

“No. That’s just it. You have been a perfect gentleman about everything, and I think I should make it up to you as best I can.”

“Make it up to me?” he repeated slowly. “How do you mean, exactly?” The expression in his eyes had sharpened.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it. I might not know the things I should about being a proper lady, but there are things I can do just as well, maybe even better.”

“Georgia…”

“Please, let me finish. This is very difficult. You see, it’s important to me that I feel I am earning my keep.”

“Earning your keep?” He sat up straight, staring at her incredulously. “Is that how you think of it, as earning your
keep?
What in God’s name—”

“Please, don’t be offended. It’s one of the advantages of your not have married a lady.’’

Nicholas choked, then covered his forehead with his hand. “I see,” he said in a muffled voice.

“It’s not so shocking. You see, if you were a rich man, or even very well-off, and Raven’s Close had not been falling to bits, then I should never have considered your proposal for a minute. But then, you wouldn’t have had to offer for me, either, so I suppose it’s a moot point. In a way it’s a good thing you are poor, for I am more comfortable with you.”

“But I—”

“Nicholas, please stop interrupting me. I am quite accustomed to being poor, so you mustn’t feel badly in the least. After all, I do know how to work hard. I can be useful in a hundred ways. I can paint, and scour, and … well, I can do just about anything.”

He looked up at her. “You … you’re saying you want to work?”

“Yes. Binkley did not seem to be happy to find me cleaning the windows this afternoon. But I was quite happy, and it doesn’t make any sense to waste a perfectly good pair of hands when the house needs as many as it can get. I’m afraid I will never be any good about things like having a lady’s maid or an enormous wardrobe, even if you could afford such luxuries. I’m not ungrateful, Nicholas. But I don’t think you should try to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.”

“Georgia—” Nicholas said again, a laugh catching in his voice.

“No, I’m not finished yet. I hope you don’t mind too much about not having married a lady, and I promise I will do my best and not stand in your way when you want to go off and do the sort of things that gentlemen do. I will be quite content to stay and look after your affairs here.”

Nicholas looked as if he might sneeze at any moment, and Georgia leaned down and picked up his napkin from where it had fallen to the floor, handing it to him. He took it and stared at it, then at her.

“I hope you’re not catching a chill,” she said, examining his face for any other signs of a cold. His eyes did seem a little weepy. “Perhaps you should have a hot toddy before going to bed. It is damp, and you can scarce afford to become ill now. But that’s something else I can do—I am quite skilled with medicines. I learned from my mother.”

“Oh, yes?” he said, his voice unsteady. “How resourceful you are, to be sure. However, I assure you my general health is excellent. It is only a … a slight fever.” He covered his mouth with his napkin and made a coughing sound.

“Oh, dear.” Georgia leaned over and placed the back of her hand on his cheek, then colored furiously as he covered her palm with his own.

“You do feel a trifle warm,” she said, pulling her hand away.

“Yes, I know,” he said. “But it’s nothing that a long night in bed won’t cure.”

“You’re absolutely right. A good night’s sleep, and I’m sure you’ll feel right as rain in the morning. I shall ask Binkley to be sure to run a warming pan thoroughly over your sheets.”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, don’t do that, Georgia. Please. Binkley would be offended that you thought him negligent.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. You see, there is so much I have to learn about how things are done in the upper class.”

“Mmm,” he said. “I expect they are done very much the same as anywhere else.”

“But they’re not, you see. That’s exactly my point. You wouldn’t know, because you have never experienced anything else. I don’t want you to regret your choice in wives, Nicholas, but I fear you might when you begin to know me. For all I know, you might despise me after a time for being foolish and ignorant. I could never be grand like Lady Raven.”

“And thank God for that,” Nicholas said fervently, his face suddenly becoming serious. He threw his napkin down and his chair scraped hollowly against the floor as he stood up. “Have you quite finished?”

“Yes. I have.”

“Good. You do know how to give speeches, don’t you? Now, I want you to listen to me. You’re quite right: you don’t know me at all. If you did, you would know that I’m not interested in such things as impeccable bloodlines, nor can I abide airs and graces. And let me tell you something about Lady Raven. Until she married my uncle, she had no entr6e of her own into society. She manipulated her way into Ravenswalk, and she’s played countess with a vengeance ever since. So don’t you think for one moment that she is in any way your better, Georgia. The woman is a vicious, clawing witch who will walk over anyone to get what she wants. You are ten times the lady she is.”

Georgia smiled ruefully. “I wish it were true, and it was a kind thing of you to say. I have had many a daydream in my time in which I was a very grand lady indeed. Generally speaking, the more awful the situation, the more fantastic the story I would spin for myself. You would laugh if I told you some of them.”

“Rapunzel, perhaps?” he asked with a laugh.

“Well…” she answered, blushing. “Not exactly Rapunzel.”

“Georgia. Oh, Georgia, you are a dreamer, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but the problem is that one always wakes up and has to face reality, which brings me back to the original point. We have to be practical, Nicholas, and make the best of our circumstances.”

He was silent. He had turned away and was gazing out of the dark window. The firelight sparked and leapt in bright flame, casting shadows over his broad shoulders.

“It’s like this house,” she said, watching him. “Last night when you were telling me about the old days, it was like magic. I could see it all, as if it were a story that was being enacted around me, as if the rooms were just as they had been, the people still there, the parties, the laughter, the happiness. But then it was time to come back to the present. And there was this.” She gestured around her.

“Yes,” he said, still looking out into the dark. “That’s exactly right. There was this. And what did that make you feel, Georgia?”

“Hope,” she said simply. “For the first time ever, there was hope of bringing some of that magic back into real life. Usually it can’t be recaptured. Do you understand? Have you ever woken from a vivid dream, thinking for a few moments that it was real, that you’d brought it with you?”

“Often,” he said tightly.

“Well, then you know exactly what I mean. I used to sit and look at this house and imagine what it had once been when it was alive. I made up stories for it, gave it a past, even created a family for it. But the stories you told last night were even nicer than mine because they were true, about real people, a real family. But it was still magical, Nicholas. And now there’s a chance to make it happen again, to make it right, to bring it back to life…”

Her voice trailed off. She hugged her arms around herself, suddenly feeling acutely embarrassed at what she had just revealed to him, and wondering what had possessed her. She never spoke of these things to anyone. “Oh … now I do feel silly. You see how fanciful I am? I promise that I shall try very hard to control these foolish tendencies.”

Nicholas turned around. “I wish you wouldn’t,” he said softly. “This house is going to need some serious magic if it’s to be made whole again. Come, it’s time to go up. The fire is dying down and it will soon be cold.”

“You go, Nicholas. I’ll clear everything away.”

He stepped toward her and lightly took her by the shoulders with a half-smile. “Georgia. You will listen to me. You may work to your heart’s content, but you will not intrude on Binkley’s domain. He would not thank you, or me, for it. That is lesson one. Lesson two. You will honor your husband’s wishes—within reason, naturally. Now, come.”

He dropped his hands and picked up the candelabrum, leading her out of the room. Once again he left her with the candles. Once again he quietly, politely bade her good night.

Georgia lay awake for some time that night, wondering very hard about the man she had married. He was unlike anyone she had ever met.

Nicholas heard a cry. He couldn’t place it at first, and then he realized it was his own. The water was over his head, and something was pulling him down and down as the water rushed up his nose and into his mouth, choking him. “No! Oh, God, please!” he cried again. “Please, no!” He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe…

And then there was a figure standing over him in the dark water, someone clad all in white, and he wondered if he was dead.

“Nicholas?” came the voice, and a soft hand touched his wet brow, stroking the hair back off his face. It was an angel, he was quite sure, noting the golden hair. Who had ever heard of a dark-haired angel? The question was, had he in fact drowned, or was he still in the process? If this was heaven, it was terribly cold and uncomfortable.

“Nicholas, you’re having a dream. Wake up now. Wake up.” He felt his shoulder being taken firmly and squeezed by a most unangelic hand.

He shook his head hard. He didn’t know where he was, but he did know he was alive and relatively dry, save for the sweat pouring off him. He shuddered, burying his face in his hands for a moment. Then he threw back his head, inhaling air as fast as he could. It was all right. He was all right. He’d made it through another drowning. He dropped his head back against the thin pillow, trying to steady the frantic beating of his heart.

“Oh, bloody hell,” he said when he’d finally oriented himself. “Oh, damn.” It was no angel bending over him, it was his wife, and he was mortified to have been caught in such a position. He hastily pushed himself up in bed.

“Nicholas? Is it the fever?” Georgia asked with concern, stroking his face again.

“The fever? What fever?” he asked, still confused, and then he remembered. “Oh, yes the fever. Yes, that’s it. It must have broken,” he said, leaping on the excuse with alacrity. “Yes, I can tell. It has definitely broken. I’m better now. Much better.” He wiped his forehead with a trembling hand.

“But you’re shaking, Nicholas. At least let me bring you one of my blankets. It’s terribly cold in here.” She looked around with dismay, noting the cold air that streamed through the broken window.

“No. No, absolutely not. I don’t need another blanket.”

“You’re being very silly, Nicholas.”

He nodded. “As I told you, I’m an imbecile.” He could not help but notice the way her full breasts pressed against the material of her nightdress as she bent over him, and he turned his face away as he felt his loins begin to stir.

“Then why don’t you move into my room for the rest of the night? It’s much warmer.”

Nicholas’ head jerked back around in sudden hope. “Your room?”

“Yes. I’ll sleep in here. I don’t mind at all.”

“That’s very generous of you, Georgia,” he said, suppressing a sigh. “But I’m warm enough. Thank you, but I think I would like to sleep. Yes. I feel very much better, but I think I need rest now. Good night, Georgia.” He rolled over on his side and feigned a sudden exhaustion.

“If you’re sure…”

“Quite sure,” he said with a yawn. “Now that the fever has broken, I am sure I will sleep soundly. I do appreciate your concern, but really, there is no need for it.”

“All right. Good night, then, Nicholas.”

“Mmm.” He forced himself to take light, steady breaths, holding back a deep sigh of relief until he heard the connecting door close.

“Oh, sweet Christ,” he whispered, slamming his hand into his pillow. “Oh, that was a fine performance, my man. I can see you’re destined for success.”

He rolled over onto his back with a groan. It had been one hell of a fine day. The roof was half-gone, never mind the state of rest of the house, the village was rife with foul rumors, and he’d had his nightmare to finish it all off. And on top of everything else, his wife apparently had no intention of letting him come near her, now or ever. Well, maybe that was one thing he could remedy. If Georgia was not going to invite him to her bed, then he would have to find another way to accomplish his goal. Aside from the matter of his throbbing loins, he’d never have children at this rate.

He spent most of the remainder of the night contemplating the situation, his eyes fixed on the large stain on the ceiling. He had always been an accomplished strategist, but breaching Georgia’s garrison was going to take more adroitness than he had ever imagined.