Compromised for Christmas (The Jennings Family #1)

43. Fitz

43

Fitz

F itz paused outside his townhome’s drawing room. He had just returned from his very important errand. The one that set his surprise for his wife into motion. In searching for said wife, Pemberton had informed Fitz that her parents had called unexpectedly. Which was quite unfortunate. Because Fitz knew he wasn’t in good graces with his wife right now. And he would much prefer seeing her, apologizing to her, without them present.

“I have been in negotiations with the Earl about garnering his support of Hartley Textiles. Unfortunately, he was hard-pressed against agreeing to anything as part of the marriage contract—especially considering our hands were tied with you ruining yourself. I had hoped the joining of our families would go a long way in furthering negotiations.”

Fitz froze at Mr. Hartley’s deep baritone.

“If you could do your part and convince your husband of the benefits of the earldom throwing its support behind us, perhaps his brother will see reason. Securing the Earl’s backing would greatly enhance our ability to attract more members of the ton to our textiles.”

His lungs stopped working. Ice burned through his body like a searing cold flame. His hand shot out to the wall, and he leaned all his weight against it, all strength deserting him. If she could do her part . His past and his present swirled together in a nausea-inducing storm. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be happening a second time. That the entire ruination, the scene in his study at the ball, had all been a ruse, a part of their plan. To get to his brother. Again.

“I don’t even know what to say.” Georgiana’s voice floated into the hallway.

Say more than that, Gigi. Please say that I’m mistaken. Please, love. His heart tacked itself onto a target, ready and waiting for his wife to shoot the arrow that would destroy him.

“Oh, do not worry about that,” Mr. Hartley said. “We can discuss exactly the points you should bring up with your husband. I will make sure you are thoroughly prepared.”

“And it’s not as though what you say will matter all that much,” Mrs. Hartley added. “The best way to persuade him will to be to put your charm to good use. I am sure with your blunderbus of a husband, it will be no task at all.”

His other hand fell on his chest. It appeared Mrs. Hartley shot an arrow of her own. Because, while he did not know the woman well, really not at all, her words were salt in a wound that had never fully healed.

“I must ask you to leave.” His wife’s voice was soft, barely audible out in the hallway. But the softness did nothing to hide the scathing disgust laced in it.

Mrs. Hartley laughed, hesitant and confused. “Pardon, Georgiana?”

“Out!”

Fitz jumped back from the wall and blinked at the furious demand from his small, ever-smiling wife.

“The both of you. Will. Leave. Immediately. I will not tolerate such affronts toward my husband in his own home. I will not use my husband for your purposes. You will not use my husband for your purposes. I have been in that position enough to know that no one deserves that treatment, let alone my husband.”

An unbearable burning welled behind Fitz’s eyes, and his chest ached as his heart expanded to rib-cracking proportions. He stumbled backwards, relief clogging his throat. Thank the bloody gods. He turned and hurried to his study. How did he get so lucky with her?

Lord, he needed to fix things between them. He had to. Because Georgiana? She was the best thing that had ever accidentally happened to him. For once, the stars had aligned and blessed him with a blonde-haired, green-eyed avenging angel. And he needed her to know how much that meant to him. How much she meant to him.

Fitz settled down at his desk, pulling out the note in the pocket of his coat. He had been intending to apologize to her. He flattened the slightly crumpled draft of his apology. He hadn’t wanted to muck it up with his misuse of words, so he had written his main points—with Felix’s approval. But now he had a better idea. He would pen her a letter and have Pemberton deliver it to her. Then he’d finish the apology in person when she joined him later that night.

Currently, he needed to concentrate on a much more pressing matter. He had significant studying ahead of him. Because tonight—he was going to gift Georgiana with the man of her dreams.