Page 23 of His Wicked Little Christmas
“He’s your darling anything should you want him.” Hildy laughed as she crossed the room, the amused echo as pleasing as her visage. Even with her scandalous reputation, Hildy had admirers, yet she said none made her heart sing. Ditchdigger or viscount, she cared nothing about a title and refused to settle for less than a warbling heart.
Unlike Georgiana five short weeks ago, Hildy didn’t expect love to strike, but she believed itcould.
Georgiana fiddled with the ribbon, twisting it around her finger as Hildy’s shadow waterfalled over her. She glanced up, encountered her friend’s knowing smile, dimples, dear heaven, pingingbothcheeks. It was no wonder men collapsed at Hildy’s feet.
“Open it, the suspense is stealing my breath,” Hildy said and offered her hand.
Georgiana took it, levering to a stand.
“Can’t be chocolates. That was yesterday.” Hildy released her satin chin strap and ripped the plaid bonnet from her head. “The day before was the fox fur muff to match your cape. A practicalandsentimental choice. Scented soap, a leather-bound volume of poetry you clasped to your chest and mooned over all morning. An outrageously extravagant brooch you’ve worn since. What am I forgetting?”
Georgiana threw Hildy a chilling glance and yanked on the package’s ribbon until it loosened and fell into her hand. “I don’t know why you’re enjoying this so much.” If her friend realized how personal each gift truly was—the soap honeysuckle, her favorite scent; the brooch meant to replace one she’d lost on the moors years ago; the book of poems by Keats, whom she treasured without question; the tea, a gift Hildy had forgotten to mention, from her favorite shop—Hildy would force Georgiana into her carriage and deposit her on Dex’s doorstep on St. James this very minute.
Astonishingly, Hildy had shown herself to be a romantic.
“I’m enjoying this because you’re happy, maybe for the first time. Those nasty shadows under your eyes departed, your smile genuine. You’ve been humming, do you know that? Humming! I’ll welcome any man as a friend who can bring such joy. Plus, what a boon for the society if we snag an actual duke! The Duchess Society’s name will be validated.” Hildy took the gift from Georgiana and removed the paper, raised a brow in challenge. “Shall we open the last, Georgie?”
“Oh, I shouldn’t have mentioned the nickname.” Georgiana shifted from one slippered foot to the other and tangled her fingers in her skirt. “It’s silly, something from the past, something Lord Munro started calling me when I was just out of leading strings. It’s childish.”
“No,” Hildy said in all seriousness, “it perfectly suits. He knows you well, I’m thinking.”
Georgiana bumped her bottom to the desk with a sigh of exasperation, dropping her face to her hands. “That’s what I’m afraid of, what I want more than life. I’m a mess, an absolute snarl.”
Hildy stepped in, pulled her close. “It’s acceptable, evenrecommended in this case, to love him. You can still be the capable woman you want to be. With the right man, I believe it’s possible. In fact, I think the society will be the better for it. Two vastly different marital experiences to use as a guide for our young ladies. What understanding you’ll have.” Hildy hugged her, a gesture that sent a torrent of affection rushing through Georgiana. “Allow yourself to love him if this is where your heart wants to go. He’s proven himself to be loyal and incredibly steadfast.”
“I should have sent him a note thanking him for the gifts.” She chewed on her bottom lip, knocked the toes of her slippers together. “I’ve made him wait, worry when he doesn’t know I want to say yes.”
Hildy straightened, her breath streaking out in surprise. “He’s asked then?”
Georgiana took the box from Hildy’s hand, smiled softly. “In lots of ways.”
“Well…” Hildy’s fingers went to the desk and did a nervy tap.
The last gift was the most personal.
Georgiana unfolded the map, seeing Dex had made small checkmarks next to the places he wanted to take her. Some for his geological work, some for pleasure.The world can be ours, he’d whispered in the hushed Derbyshire twilight, his arms tight about her. Paris, Munich, Cardiff, Edinburgh, Florence. With her finger, she traced the Arno river and remembered Dex telling her how much he loved Tuscany. There was an exquisite villa near thePonte alle Graziehe’d stayed in once, and he was desperate to return.
With her.
“Rather disappointing,” Hildy murmured, “when he was doing so well with the gifts. But for a man of science, he’s done an excellent job overall.”
Georgiana brought the map to her lips, dropped her head, and sighed against it.
“Oh.” Hildy bumped Georgiana’s shoulder and giggled low in her throat. “You like it. A dingy, old map, but you like it. Odd, but certainly wonderful he didn’t disappoint, that you understand the significance.”
“I love it.” I love him. I want him. I need him.
“A map as welcome as a diamond?” Hildy dusted her hands togetheras a blinding smile lit her face. “It’s decided, you’re perfect for each other. You’re to love an academic. And God knows, someone should.”
“He wants to give me the world, Hildy.” She glanced again at the map while she negotiated with her heart. “And you know what? I think I’ll take it.”
Chapter Eleven
A promise fulfilled on Twelfth Night…
Dex shoved his hands in his greatcoat pockets and shivered. The day was frigid, the sky reconciled between wretched and ghastly, icy splinters sneaking beneath the brim of his beaver hat to strike his cheek. As he crossed Great Russell Street, his heart, like the sky, was leaden, his chest taut, making breath a rare commodity. He was barging inside the first public house he encountered, no matter how appalling, and not coming out for days. He was going to drown himself in the finest spirits the district of Bloomsbury had to offer—and then he was going to start on the worst. Maybe he’d unleash his temper, use his fists to alleviate his misery. It’d been years since he’d used them in this manner, but it likely wouldn’t be the last.
Georgie hadn’t shown.