Page 72

T he morning had dawned as gloomy as Laurence’s mood. He didn’t care. He was on a mission to locate John, whom he hadn’t seen since he’d landed in the fountain.

The night before, the earl had intercepted him as he’d returned to the house, dripping wet, and they’d gone to his study for a brandy. The earl had been apologetic, of course, but Laurence assured him he had nothing for which to apologize. What had happened was all his fault. And John’s.

They spent some time in conversation, after the earl had called for towels so Laurence could dry himself off.

By the time they’d consumed a vast quantity of excellent spirits, Laurence had convinced the earl he considered his daughter a prize beyond measure and—most importantly—convinced him not to punish her for his dousing.

By that time, it was too late to go look for John, and especially it had been an inappropriate time to seek out Georgina no matter how much he wanted to speak to her.

He’d bid the earl good night and gone to his room, waiting for the dawn so he could deal with the marquess, and then convince Georgina to forgive him—forgive them!

—for their stupidity. Her heart was more valuable than what he could win in any wager, and he needed her to know he felt that way. But first, he’d deal with the marquess.

He found John in the library, standing by the mantel.

He slammed the door behind him and angrily marched across the room.

Without a word or any kind of warning, he swung his arm directly toward the marquess, shaking the pain off from his fist after planting a blow directly into John’s face.

His friend staggered back as blood began to run from his nose, and he pulled a handkerchief from his jacket.

“What the bloody hell was that for?” John groaned, peering at Laurence over the edge of the handkerchief with streaming eyes.

“You are a damn cur for announcing our wager like that to Georgina. I thought you were my friend,” Laurence declared as he reached for John again. He wasn’t sure if he was going to punch him again or shake him, but he couldn’t stand back. “What the devil were you thinking?”

John gave him a one-handed shove and tilted his head back to stop the bleeding.

“I did what any friend of yours would do. Ensuring that both you and the lady could stand up to any obstacles that may cross your paths in your future together,” John complained bitterly.

“Certainly, you could see my intentions were for your own good.”

“My own good ? You’ve ruined everything!”

“If I have, then what you think you found with the lady is more superficial that you may have realized,” he growled before continuing. “Instead of taking your frustrations out on me, I would advise you to find the lady and beg her forgiveness if you’re truly in love with her.”

His rage hadn’t lessened with John’s explanation. It barely made sense to him. Laurence pointed his finger toward the man. “You owe her an apology.”

John gave him a short bow. “Which I will gladly do, including explaining my reason for why I said what I did, once you’ve done your own groveling to get her back.” He sank into a nearby chair.

They spent some more time talking and eventually, Laurence realized, his friend’s intentions truly were for their good.

He didn’t appreciate the clumsy attempt and really wished that John had discussed his plans with him before practically destroying his budding relationship with the woman with whom he’d fallen in love.

He left John looking far more confident than he should have although Laurence felt a certain amount of satisfaction that he had broken his friend’s nose. He would forgive John only if he was capable of convincing Georgina that his feelings for her were true.

Laurence went in search of his lady. Finally he asked a servant about her whereabouts and learned she was outside with her fencing master.

As he rounded the corner of the keep, he saw her going about her lessons as though the very devil was driving her need for vengeance.

She was angry, rightly so, and he needed to do everything in his power to make things right.

He came into view and she lost her concentration as her step faltered and she slid on the grass beneath her feet. Rushing forward he grabbed hold of her arm before she fell in a heap but it was the point of her rapier close to his neck that stopped him from pulling her into his arms.

Georgina seemed to realize what she was doing and she dropped her arm, allowing Laurence to take a breath. His gaze went to her teacher. “Leave us,” he ordered and watched as the man returned his weapon to a nearby table, gave a brief nod, and departed.

Laurence went to the table to retrieve one of the rapiers. He swiped the blade in the air testing the steel before he turned to the lady. “Shall we continue?” he said with an amused grin.

She stared at him intently before an expression formed on her lovely features that told him to be wary. She was out to seek retribution for the mistakes he had made. She lifted her blade and took up her stance saying not a word.

Laurence gave her the appropriate salute and they began to circle.

Eventually, their swords met. And then there was the familiar game of parry and thrust. He began sparring with great confidence that he’d be the winner, but soon realized that with every thrust, though he was sure he’d make contact, her quick footwork saved her.

They were an even match, his strength to her agility.

Indeed, he realized, she was his equal. As she’d promised.

Of course, she had an advantage; his attention was drawn to her body outlined in tightly fitting breeches that quite distracted him as no male’s attire ever could. So it wasn’t much of a surprise when her sword came up to cut a slice off of his cravat that was hanging loose.

Instead, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder, and perhaps even pride, that this amazing, unique, and beautiful woman was ready to hack off his clothing, one piece at a time.

Their rapiers clashed again and Laurence went on the defensive as the ring of their blades meeting, time and time again echoed in the air.

She might have parried until she dropped from exhaustion; he could tell from her heavy breathing that she had met her limit.

When her blade met the top of his hand and drew blood, her eyes went wide and she dropped her rapier to the ground while a gasp left her lips.

“Your Grace!” She flew to his side to take up his hand, dabbing with the sleeve of her shirt at the droplets of blood that seeped from his wound.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to draw your blood—”

“It’s just a scratch, Georgina. Do not distress yourself.” He smiled at her. “And I deserve it. Truly.”

A sob caught in her throat and she turned away from him.

“Please, Georgina. Your tears hurt me more than any sword cut.” He reached for her and took her about the waist. She struggled, but then allowed him to pull her into his arms. “I am sorry, little one, for the hurt I caused you. It was never my intention to have a stupid wager with my stupid friend become a rift between you and me or to destroy what we have found with one another.”

She turned around in his arms to face him as she tilted back her head to stare up at him.

Now that he was this close, he could see for himself that she had most likely spent the majority of the night crying, if her red-rimmed eyes were any indication of how truly hurt she had been.

The sight made his heart clench with sadness.

He never wanted to hurt her. Not then and not ever again.

Now, she fingered the edges of his jacket, and he took this as a sign that perhaps she would eventually forgive him.

Indeed, Georgina gave a heavy sigh. “You sister has been singing your praises this morning, along with the marquess, who came to your defense and told me that the wagers were his idea.”

“You saw them both this morning?” he asked wondering why John hadn’t mentioned it, not that Laurence had really given the man time to explain himself before he’d broken his nose.

“Yes,” she replied with a shrug. “Your sister asked that I give you another chance. And Lord Brome explained that he only wished to ensure that I truly loved you and not your title, like all the other women who have thrown themselves at you. It sounded foolish, and still does, but he explained that if I could forgive you for making a silly wager, then I would be worthy to be your duchess.” She frowned.

“And that you would be worthy to be my husband.”

A love he’d never thought possible to feel crashed over him.

He hadn’t expected or wanted to find a duchess, and now he couldn’t imagine a life without one.

This one. “You didn’t need to prove anything to me, Georgina, and John shouldn’t have put our love to a test as he did.

You are beyond worthy. It was none of his affair to meddle in our relationship and I would have confessed everything to you as I had planned once I knew of your affection for me,” he said pulling her closer.

“Unfortunately, he interrupted us before I could do so.”

She blinked up at him. “Much like your sister, I suppose, the marquess only had your best interest at heart.”

“Much like your father,” he said, thinking of the conversation he’d had the night before with the earl after he’d seen Laurence entering the castle dripping wet, and brought him to his study.

“My father?” she asked.

“I asked for his blessing last night to marry you… that is, if you could forgive me for hurting you.”

“You did?” Her blue eyes went wide.

“I would have done so after kissing you, had not John obnoxiously interrupted what was going to be a romantic gesture on my part,” he grumbled before raising his hand to cup her cheek. “Can you forgive me for acting so foolishly?”

A quirk of a smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “I suppose if I think hard enough about it, then I would realize that your secret wager is what brought you to Brockenhurst in the first place.”

“ You brought me to Brockenhurst, my love,” he murmured, as she leaned her cheek into the palm of his hand.

“Then I forgive you,” she declared brightly before a devilish look flashed in her blue eyes. “But if you ever try to deceive me again, you’ll find yourself being pushed back into the lake. Or the fountain. Or a puddle, if that’s all I can find.”

Laughter erupted from them both before Laurence leaned down to kiss her. And as she wrapped her arms around his neck, he knew that from this moment forward he had found his duchess. He never wanted to be parted from her again.

The End

I hope you enjoyed this novella of Laurence and Georgina’s journey to finding love.

It wasn’t hard for me to try and figure out how to link this Regency romance with my Knights of the Anarchy series.

It only seemed fitting to have Georgina’s ancestors be related to Wymar Norwood in the first book, Knight of Darkness .

If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a review for this box set.

You can learn more about my medieval, time travel, and Regency-era stories on my website at https://www.sherryewing.com .