Compromised for Christmas (The Jennings Family #1)

29. Georgiana

29

Georgiana

A knock sounded on Georgiana’s bedroom door. She looked up from where she sat on her bed, a book she hadn’t read a single word of in her lap. She had retired early after dinner and settled in with a gothic novel, hoping she could distract herself until she fell asleep. Fat lot of good that had done.

“Come in.”

The door slowly opened, and Felicity’s head popped out from behind it, amber hair piled atop her head. “Hullo, Georgiana.” Her velvet, forest-green swathed form stepped into the room. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it. She studied Georgiana silently for a heartbeat. “I wanted to check on you,” Felicity said at last. “Are you well? Given…”

Given her husband abandoned her on Christmas. Georgiana was trying so hard not to fall into her melancholy thoughts. But it felt just like his study before they had married. When he’d said quite plainly that conversing with her was inconsequential. That business matters came before her. Apparently, not even Christmas changed that. Apparently, not even—she wrinkled her nose—a lovely evening changed that. She was, as always, not enough, not a priority. An afterthought. Oh dear, there she went, becoming all broody.

“I’m going to take this silence and the fact that you look like someone kicked your puppy as a no.”

Oh, God. Her heart twisted painfully tight. Her puppy. Bernie. Her eyes welled. Shite—

Felicity clapped her hands. “We are going to fix that. Come with me. Chop chop!”

“Wha—”

But Felicity was already exiting Georgiana’s room. She blinked, confusion cutting through her grief. Thank God. Georgiana scrambled off her bed and scurried after Felicity. She quickly grabbed her wrapper on her way to the door, shrugging into it as she entered the hallway. Felicity’s form was nearly at the end of the hall, marching with purpose.

Georgiana finally reached her sister-in-law, breaths puffing past her lips. “Goodness, Felicity. With how fast you’re moving, you’d think a new shipment of French silks just came in. Or they’re giving away free samples at the confectioners.”

Felicity bounded down the stairs, barely turning to address Georgiana. “I don’t give a fig about French silks. Now if it was French brandy…Well, I’d be moving much faster than this.”

Georgiana let out a small huff of laughter. A woman after her own heart. Goodness, she could use a snifter of brandy. Or whisky. Or scotch. She wasn’t picky.

They walked into Lord Bentley’s study, and Felicity went straight to her brother’s sideboard.

Georgiana slowed. “Are we supposed to be in here? Isn’t this the Earl’s private domain?”

Felicity, facing away from Georgiana at the sideboard, lifted her hand above her shoulder and gave a flippant wave. “No, there is no privacy in this family.”

Bangs and clanks and the glug-glug-glug of pouring liquid came from the sideboard. Felicity shoved some things in the pockets of her wrapper, and then turned, two glasses with generous amounts of amber liquid and a cigar in her hands. She grinned, eyebrows lifting mischievously.

“Care for a snifter and a smoke?”

“Would I ever.” Georgiana hurried forward and divested Felicity of one of the snifters, throwing back as much of the contents as she could in one gulp. She choked back the burn, not caring in the least that fire rushed down her throat. Her eyes burned, and her body shuddered as the astringent flavor of alcohol seeped through her. Bloody hell. She had needed that.

Felicity blinked at her. “Well, then. I knew I liked you. But goodness, I think I love you.”

Georgiana giggled and stepped up to the sideboard to top off the whisky in her snifter.

Felicity went to a basket by the hearth and pulled out a large wool blanket. “We’ll be needing this, even with the whisky warming us. It’s cold as tits outside.” She ambled over to the door that was on the wall of windows in Lord Bentley’s study. “This leads to the terrace that spans the entire length of the manor. Come now, my dear nug, time for a smoke and some serious bosom chum chit-chat.” She headed through the door. “Oh, and just bring the decanter. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that in the first place.” Her words faded as she disappeared into the night.

The warmth in Georgiana’s belly from the whisky spread all the way to her heart at the term of endearment her sister had just used for her. She stilled. Sister. She thought of Felicity as her sister. Not sister-in-law. Because after her brief time in this family, with Felicity, it felt more like her true family than her own flesh-and-blood ever had.

Smile curving her lips, she snatched the decanter by the neck and hurried after Felicity. They settled at the balustrade of the terrace, snifters and decanter resting on the large railing. Felicity rifled in her pocket, pulled out a cigar cutter, the engraved silver glinting in the lamplight of the terrace. She clipped the edge and took out a long match.

“Have you ever smoked a cigar?” she asked, striding over to a sconce and lighting the match from the flame.

Georgiana nodded. “Another one of my rebellious indulgences. Liquor, cigars, and assignations.” She affected a superior tone. “I am truly the most virtuous of ladies.”

Felicity toasted the outer binding of the cigar slowly over the match’s flame. “Yes, very demure, very chaste.” She glanced up from her task, her white teeth flashing from her grin. She put the cigar to her lips, rotating it as she took a slow draw. She released a puff of silver vapor into the night, a spicy aroma heavy with cloves and cinnamon filling the air around them. “Like myself, of course.”

Georgiana shook her head with a soft chuckle. It was amazing that this woman in front of her was the Lady Felicity Jennings. The incomparable. The woman who was above reproach. The woman who was nothing but charm and grace, prim and proper. Georgiana snorted.

“What?” Felicity handed the cigar off to Georgiana.

Georgiana snatched it up. “It is just…amazing, really. The difference between who you portray to the ton compared to who you are within these walls.”

A wicked smile spread over Felicity’s face before instantly disappearing. She dipped into a slow curtsy, holding the fabric of her wrapper out wide, gaze downcast. She rose and peeked at Georgiana from beneath her lashes. “I am honored to be graced with your presence, my lord,” she said, her voice breathy and quiet. Her expression was soft, her eyes swimming with innocence.

The sister Georgiana had come to know over the past fortnight was gone. In her place was the epitome of virginal, shy maiden. Goodness, no wonder men fell over sideways trying to get to her. No wonder Lord Wessex had claimed her—even if it was to put her on the side for years. The image she portrayed begged to be corrupted.

Georgiana had never understood the desire men had to claim a woman’s virginity. Frankly, she found it insulting and hypocritical—that a man would find some sort of thrill in being the only touch a woman would ever know, especially when they went and touched everything in a skirt. But looking at Felicity right now…goodness, Georgiana thought she might want to corrupt the chit a bit after that impressive acting.

“Please tell me more about your impressive land holdings,” Felicity murmured. “Pray, do share more about your extensive travels abroad. Please tell me about your magnificent collection of unique antiquities that no one else has seen the like of. ”

Georgiana snickered.

“I’m a bloody virtuoso, aren’t I?” Felicity lifted her chin and met Georgiana’s gaze head on, eyes sparkling. She waggled her brows. “I’ve mastered the art of pretense.”

Georgiana toasted Felicity with the cigar. “That you have. I applaud you, dear sister.” She brought the cigar to her lips, and her eyes sank closed as the flavor of earthy tobacco hit her senses, followed by a spicy-sweet after note. She shaped her mouth into a tight ‘O’ and pushed out the smoke, small circles of vapor forming in front of her before fading into the night.

“That’s bloody brilliant,” Felicity said, bouncing on her toes.

Georgiana grinned. A neat trick the workers at one of her father’s textile warehouses had taught her.

Felicity bumped Georgiana with her shoulder and wrapped the blanket around their shoulders. “I like that. Dear sister. I always wanted a sister. Stuck with these exasperating brothers.” She sighed wearily, one only a little sister with two older brothers could make. “I’m quite happy my brother accidentally ruined you. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect addition to our family.”

A somber happiness swirled through Georgiana at Felicity’s words. She couldn’t agree more—she and Felicity were kindred spirits. She just wished her husband shared this woman’s feelings. It was the most painful tease, to be presented with hints and glimmers of the family she had always dreamed of. Falling just short in the area of adoring husband.

“You do know I can practically hear the sullen thoughts spinning in that head of yours.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to dampen the mood. I just wish…”

“Wish that my brother wasn’t utterly fat-headed? Bottle-headed? Beetle-headed. A complete cod’s head. Goodness, I never realized how many phrases for saying someone is stupid had head in it.”

“Loggerhead.” Georgiana added.

“Pudding-headed!”

“Totty-headed.” Georgiana waggled her brows.

They dissolved into mirth, their breath fogging the frosty night air. Georgiana passed the cigar back to Felicity and reached for her whisky, the two of them falling into a companionable silence.

“I don’t know why my brother left today,” Felicity finally said. “Often times Fitz does things no one understands, or for reasons no one understands. But…” Felicity rolled her lips in and appeared to weigh her words. “Just try to be patient with him.” She turned and met Georgiana’s gaze. “He is not intentionally cruel. As horrible as I am sure it must feel to have him flee on Christmas, I am sure there was a good reason behind it. And by good, I mean good in Fitz’s convoluted mind.”

Georgiana hummed and sipped her whisky. It was hard to imagine what could possibly be a good reason to abruptly leave one’s wife and family on Christmas. One’s brand-new wife. Who one had known only for a little more than a week. Abandoned. Blatantly stating said wife’s company was unwanted.

“I think he quite likes you,” Felicity said softly.

Georgiana scoffed.

“It’s not always easy to tell with Fitzy,” Felicity conceded. She handed the cigar back to Georgiana. “I think you might quite like him, too.”

Georgiana let out a heavy sigh before puffing on the cigar. Yes, she most definitely quite liked him. She was fairly certain she started quite liking him from the minute she’d rushed to the crimson crustacean’s aide that first night in his study. Her adorable, awkward lobster.

“I’m not sure he believes that’s possible,” Felicity said.

Georgiana frowned. “What do you mean?”

Felicity placed her whisky back on the railing and stuck her hand out for the cigar. “The woman Fitz had intended to offer for—”

“Offer for?” Georgiana froze in her passing of the cigar. Her husband had a love interest? Oh God, is that where he went? She hadn’t given a thought to the fact that there might be another woman.

“Stop spiraling.” Felicity chuckled. “This was years ago.”

Georgiana deflated, the fear expelling from her in a white whoosh of breath.

Which only had Felicity chuckling harder. “I knew you liked him. But anyhow. Years ago—goodness, I think it was eight years ago now—a lovely young woman started trailing after Fitzy. Miss Eloise Browning. She was beautiful, from a well-respected family. I think she might have been the first woman to show Fitzy any interest.”

“He was an awkward—even more so than he is now—gangly eighteen-year-old with spots all over his face. Honestly, his age alone should have aroused suspicions, because how many women vie for a lad of eighteen? She was all smiles, fan flutters, subtle flirtations; a complete sham. She sniffed around his boot heels for months. He even asked her father for permission to court her. And then he found her half-naked with Felix in Felix’s study.”

Georgiana’s gasp sliced through the quiet night. “No!” Pain pierced her heart for the young man. Goodness, to not only be deceived by the woman he wanted to marry, but his brother too? “Lord Bentley?” She could do nothing but gape. The two seemed to have such a close relationship.

“It wasn’t how you are thinking. Felix wanted nothing to do with her,” Felicity murmured. “And Fitz knew that without a doubt. But it was revealed then and there that the only reason she was pursuing Fitzy was to get to Felix. He had recently inherited, and everyone thought he’d take a bride and procure an heir with haste. Miss Browning thought to capitalize on that.

“My brother was crushed. I wasn’t there, but Felix told me she made the cruelest, most cutting remarks to Fitz. I’ve never seen Felix more angry. I swear he looked like he was set to burn down London just because she resided there.”

Georgiana thought she could understand. Even now, she wanted to find the woman and, quite frankly, slug her across the face.

“The bawd actually thought Felix would marry her when caught with him in his study. Do the honorable thing.” Felicity sneered, contempt dripping from her tone. “Ironic she would think that when there wasn’t an honorable bone in her deceiving body. Instead, he made it known exactly what she had done, thoroughly ruined her to the point she had to flee England.”

Good. That made Georgiana exceptionally happy. She hoped the waspish wench got the pox. She grimaced. That was unkind. But frankly, Georgiana didn’t care.

“Anyway, the entire point of rehashing that steaming pile of horse-shite from Fitzy’s past was that I’m not sure he ever fully recovered from the insults the treacherous tart threw at him. I don’t believe he thinks someone could ever like him for him. And it’s not as though you chose to wed him of your own accord.”

Georgiana’s heart struggled to beat through the painful clenches it made on her husband’s behalf. “I may not have had a choice, and I may not have dared to hope for anything but a marriage in name, but now…”

Felicity’s eyes glimmered gently in the lantern’s soft light as she studied Georgiana. “But now you do hope.”

Georgiana did. Sometimes possibility shimmered before her, like snowflakes fluttering in the moonlight. But when she awoke the next morning, would she find herself blessed with a beautiful winter wonderland or a disappointing dusting?

Felicity’s fingers tangled with Georgiana’s, and she gave Georgiana a comforting squeeze. “Trust me, I fully understand having those hopes and dreams. And how it feels when it appears they’re not going to come true.”

Georgiana sucked in a shaky breath, unsure if it was the cold or the ache in her chest causing the sharpness in her lungs.

“Be patient with him, Georgiana. Give him a chance.”