Compromised for Christmas (The Jennings Family #1)

11. Georgiana

11

Georgiana

H er husband had fled.

Last night. When they were supposed to consummate their marriage.

She tried to shove the thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand: kissing boughs. Georgiana snorted. The irony. Kissing this prickly pine would probably be more pleasant than the one from last night. But it didn’t mean she didn’t want to try again. Because the dining room was thick with the woodsy aroma of greenery, and all it did was remind Georgiana of how delicious her fleeing husband smelled.

Georgiana sat with her sister-in-law, Felicity, and mother-in-law, in the family’s dining hall. Evergreens of every variety, of every shape and size, were sprawled out on the wood table before them while they each made their own kissing boughs to be hung around the manor. Lady Bentley had insisted Georgiana call her Lydia. Georgiana had stumbled over that the first few times. It was so familiar.

But she was coming to find that the Jennings family were a very close-knit bunch. They jested, they swore, they did things that were decidedly not done for members of the ton. And it was shocking because when the Jennings paraded about in society? One would never have guessed. Lord Bentley was so formal, so lordly . Not very descriptive, but everyone knew what a lordly lord was like. Lady Felicity was above reproach about town. At home? The woman swore like a knave. And Lady Bentley—Lydia, Georgiana corrected herself—smiled fondly at her children as they carried on in their coarse behavior.

Georgiana bloody loved it.

She snatched up another peppermint candy from the bowl between her and Felicity and popped it into her mouth. She rolled it over her tongue, the frosty flavor tingling over her senses. She might not be having the best of luck with her husband. But she couldn’t be happier with the family that had welcomed her with open arms.

Speaking of her husband, who she hadn’t seen since their abomination of a kiss last night—Georgiana had noticed, while he was comfortable with his family, something seemed a bit different about him. Almost like he appeared to be an outsider in his own family. He never relaxed like Felicity and Lord Bentley did. He jested, he swore, he smiled, but never to the same extent. It was something Georgiana was determined to find out more about. Why did he hold himself back—apart—even from his family?

Lydia stood in a flurry of ivory muslin skirts. “I don’t think we have enough greenery. I’m going to find Mrs. Smith and have her send some footmen out for more boughs.”

Georgiana frowned down at the long dining table, at least fifteen feet in length. Covered in holly and ivy and mistletoe. They needed more ?

Felicity nodded vigorously. “Agreed. This isn’t nearly as much as we had last year. We must out-do ourselves.”

Oh, that was the other thing. The Jennings? They were a competitive lot. With each other and even with themselves.

Lydia clapped excitedly and sashayed from the room, humming some Christmas ditty. She had an impressive amount of energy. She must be well past fifty years if Lord Bentley was in his thirties, but one would never know with how she bounded about just like her four-and-twenty daughter.

The woman was also extraordinarily beautiful. The whole family was beautiful, really. But whereas Lady Bentley’s children were all amber-haired and amber-eyed, Lydia had light, strawberry-blonde hair and glowing, blue eyes with laugh lines creasing the corners and around her lips. A family who smiled, who loved. Odd that.

Lydia’s daughter, Felicity, was her exact replica besides coloring. As was Lord Bentley. Large eyes, slightly tilted in an almost feline variety, perfectly proportioned noses, full lips. They were all pretty, including Lord Bentley.

And then there was Georgiana’s husband. Fitzwilliam Jennings. He was tall and broad-shouldered like Lord Bentley, though much leaner. But his features were sharper, squarer. Georgiana had learned that Fitz held a likeness to his father. Riotous curls included. She let out a dreamy sigh. He really was dashing. When he wasn’t the same shade as the red ribbon she was tying to her bough. Even then, he was still handsome.

It was just…his awkwardness was a little cringe-inducing to observe. She desperately wished she could comfort him—sometimes this manifested itself into her wanting to shake him and yell, relax, you lout!— which she didn’t do, of course. At least, not yet. So far, almost everything she had done had made it worse. So, she wasn’t counting out the possibility.

“There!” Felicity exclaimed. She held up her kissing bough and examined it. She had managed a sphere double the size of her head, dotted with gold and red bows and dried oranges, and it was so thick with greenery there wasn’t even a peep of empty space.

“Lovely, Felicity. I might need some of your assistance with mine.” Georgiana’s wasn’t nearly as full. “I can’t fill these bloody spaces,” she muttered.

Her sister-in-law scooted closer with a chuckle, grabbing another peppermint for herself, and started helping Georgiana secure more greenery to the hoops making up her sphere.

Felicity dropped her voice. “Now that Mother is conveniently absent, you must tell me the details of the night you were caught with my brother.”

Georgiana fumbled with the branch she was trying to secure to her sphere. “You want to know how your brother compromised me?”

A grin split Felicity’s face. “I know some specifics. Like how you were found on top of my brother, breasts in his face.” She sniggered. “I can only imagine Fitz’s panic at that .” Felicity leaned forward. “But I know for a fact that Fitz would never take part in an assignation. The only reason he was there was because you were unfortunate enough to choose his study for your location. I want details . Who were you intending to meet?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Come on now, we are friends— sisters —it’s practically a rule you must share.”

Georgiana’s lips twitched. The woman was a dog with a bone. “I don’t know…” Should she really admit to it?

“I guarantee nothing you say will shock me more than anything my best friend has told me. She is married and has taken full advantage of her freedom. Trust me.”

Well, all right then. “I had been trying to meet the Duke of Ironcrest.”

Felicity’s eyes grew to nearly the size of her kissing bough. And then she started clapping as her eyes danced. “Oh, that is excellent. Goodness. You were aiming for the Duke and ended up with Fitz.” She broke out in a fit of giggles. “They are soooo very different.” She paused and eyed Georgiana curiously. “You do know the Duke is known for his unique…preferences, do you not?”

Warmth rushed to Georgiana’s cheeks. “Yes,” she mumbled. Which only had Felicity squealing with glee.

“Oh my, oh my . You like those sorts of things?” Her eyebrows bounced in a very suggestive fashion. “My best friend, Lady Camoys, has had a few romps with the Duke. He is depraved .”

Georgiana ducked her chin, her face on fire.

Felicity squealed. “Oh my, oh my, oh my. You like depraved things!” She leaned forward and dropped her voice. “No judgment on my end. Just…urm…best to proceed with caution with Fitzy. Poor man will probably end up injuring himself.”

Georgiana’s eyes widened. Heavens, the woman was probably correct. But this was not a topic she wanted to discuss out in the open in the Jennings’s dining room. Time to change the subject. She fingered a spare branch of pine on the table.

“You know…if you are looking to best your decorations from last year, I might have an idea.”

“Yes?” Felicity sat straighter, a soldier awaiting command.

“We could put up a full tree.”

Felicity’s mouth dropped open, and she stared at Georgiana with awe. “That is bloody brilliant! ”

“We are not putting up a tree,” a male voice echoed through the dining room.