“There is no way that I can ever forget you are a woman,” he scorned.

  She gave him a searching glance, the warmth deepening in her cheeks at the intense heat in his piercing, deep green eyes as he stared at her. “Then perhaps you might try to overlook the fact?” she prompted huskily.

  “I cannot do that either.”

  She eyed him cautiously. “Would you care to explain to me why not?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Julian had never met such a forthright young woman. But it was an honesty he liked very much after suffering through a year of marriage and Annabel’s machinations.

  The two years of torment since, from all the silently accusing glances of those who, after his wife disappeared, believed he must have done away with her, had been intolerable.

  An accusation Georgiana insisted she did not believe to be true. How or why she could so easily believe that, Julian had no idea.

  Nor, he reminded himself sternly, in the wider picture of the situation was it in the least relevant.

  Then why had her confidence in his innocence caused such a huge warmth of gratitude to grow inside his chest?

  His jaw tightened. “Do you wish me to be completely honest?”

  Georgiana nodded. “I insist upon it.”

  As he had suspected she might. Even on such short acquaintance, he knew that this woman would prefer, no, insist upon the unvarnished truth. “You are very beautiful and have a forthrightness of nature I deeply admire,” Julian admitted huskily.

  Her expression remained curious rather than alarmed. “And?”

  And if he allowed Georgiana to remain here, then there was every possibility that he would eventually be unable to resist kissing her, possibly more than kissing her. Which would no doubt result in Georgiana leaving both him and Norfolk.

  Damned if he did and damned if he did not!

  But the second option did imply that he might have the satisfaction of at least having kissed Georgiana before she left.

  Everything about this forthright and beautiful young woman was a temptation. One Julian dared not allow himself to contemplate taking, let alone continue to enjoy.

  He released a heavy sigh. “As far as the rest of the world is concerned, I am still a married man.”

  She snorted. “It sounds to me as if that is something other people are foisting upon you and is not your own opinion on the matter.”

  “Does it matter why or what I believe?” he dismissed wearily. “To the world, Annabel’s disappearance has left me at the impasse of being neither married nor widowed, and so unable to pursue any woman I might find myself attracted to.”

  “And I am a young lady who, you are already aware because of my membership in the Spinsters Alliance, has no interest in marriage.”

  “Georgiana—”

  “You mentioned feeling an attraction a few seconds ago. Am I the woman you are attracted to?” she pushed relentlessly.

  He gave her a searching glance, one which she returned without flinching. In the same forthright manner that she had since the moment they first met.

  Julian’s jaw tightened. “You are far too young and beautiful to stay alone in a house with a man many suspect of having killed his wife.”

  “I have already told you I am not one of them, and obviously, neither is the Duke of St. Albans,” she reminded. “I would also have thought, considering how far away Moreland Park is from the nearest village or town, that the majority of your servants reside in this house too.”

  “They do, yes…”

  “Then we are not alone.”

  He released a frustrated sigh. “You are missing the point.”

  “No, I do not believe I am,” Georgiana insisted. “I see nothing wrong in the two of us living here together. In fact”—that becoming blush colored her cheeks again—“now that I have met and spoken with you, I am very much looking forward to it.”

  Julian swallowed, unsure whether he was reading too much into that statement or if it was just wishful thinking on his part.

  Surely Georgiana could not be admitting she was as attracted to him as he was to her?

  “I am, yes,” she answered, alerting Julian to the fact that he must have spoken those last words out loud. “As a member of the Spinsters Alliance, we have all dismissed any idea of being forced into a marriage with a man we do not love. But that does not mean we cannot admit to feeling an attraction toward one or act upon it. I feel no compunction in admitting to feeling that attraction toward you.”

  “Georgiana—”

  “As I have said, I have no interest in marriage,” she continued firmly, “and after your own short foray into that institution, you obviously now feel the same aversion to it. As you are, without a doubt, the most handsome and interesting gentleman I have ever met, and I do not find our exchanges in the least tedious either, I see little point in denying that attraction.”

  “You cannot say such things to me!” he protested.

  “And yet I just did,” she reasoned calmly.

  It was not often that Julian felt unsure of his footing, and yet at this moment, that was exactly how he felt.

  Was Georgiana really saying what he thought she was?

  That she, a single young lady of the ton, not only found him attractive but that she would be willing to—willing to— Even the thought of it was enough to cause Julian’s cock to pulse and harden.

  He had already spent one night desiring and resisting this woman. Her words implied he did not have to continue to do so. A knowledge that tested his self-control to its limits.

  She gave a wry chuckle. “Do not look so horrified by my candor, Your Grace.”

  “Julian,” he bit out, totally distracted by his cock continuing to engorge in reaction to what she had just said to him.

  She gave a nod. “Georgiana.”

  “Then, Georgiana, I feel compelled to tell you that your comments to me just now were highly improper when spoken to a married man.” He forced himself to answer in the way he knew was appropriate.

  “A possibly married man,” she instantly corrected. “Even if you are still married, your wife obviously chose to abandon both you and that marriage two years ago. You have already admitted it was an unhappy marriage for you. I have no idea of your…physical arrangements since the end of your marriage, nor do I need to know when they are not relevant to me,” she assured him.

  There had been no women in his bed during or after his marriage. And that included his wife. But, much as Julian admired and desired the woman standing in front of him, his pride would not allow him to admit that.

  Instead, he shook his head. “None of that changes my marital status.”

  “I do not recall saying that it did.” Georgiana gave another chuckle at his no doubt nonplussed expression. He truly had never met a woman of such honesty. “Julian, the example of my parents’ marriage means that I never wish to enter into that state myself, hence my membership in the Spinsters Alliance. But none of the six members of that group made a pledge of chastity.”

  “St. Albans’s wife and daughter are two of those six members,” he reminded.

  “Exactly,” she drawled with a pointed rise of her brows.

  “Oh,” Julian murmured when the truth of what Georgiana was saying became clear. “I cannot believe we are having this conversation!” he muttered self-disgustedly.

  “I can,” she soothed. “But I believe the two of us should get to know each other better before we…explore that situation on a deeper level. Do you agree?” She gave him a warm smile.

  It was that warmth in Georgiana’s manner and the curves of her body that Julian, deprived of human touch and kindness for so long, found himself unable to dismiss completely. He craved that warmth like a flower did sunlight.

  “Also, I am sure you would not want to insult the Duke of St. Albans, after his kindness in sending me here to assist you, by immediately sending me back to London without so much as allowing me the opportunity to prove my worth,” she challenged.

  Julian was unsure as to whether St. Albans had meant sending Georgiana here as a kindness or as a torment. Either way, merely thinking of the bleakness of his lonely existence before Georgiana’s arrival yesterday, and how his life would instantly return to that desolation the moment she was gone, was enough for him to waver in his initial resolve.

  “I will give you one week’s trial⁠—”

  “Three weeks,” Georgiana cut in.

  “Two weeks,” he compromised, immediately realizing, from the blinding smile that now curved the delectable fullness of Georgiana’s lips, that this was the outcome she had desired all along.

  She held out her bare hand to him. “Deal.”

  Julian stared at that slender hand and fingers for several long seconds, instinctively knowing that the simple gesture of taking hold of Georgiana’s hand, of touching the softness of her bare skin, would change his life forever.

  “Julian,” she pressed softly.

  Just watching those plump and kissable lips say his name was enough to cause his cock to throb. “I should not have agreed⁠—”

  “But you did,” she stated firmly as she stepped purposefully forward to reach out and take his hand in both of hers. “I will not disappoint you,” she promised huskily.

  Julian already knew that, even as his fingers tightened about her much more slender ones.

  Just as he had suspected might be the case, touching Georgiana resulted in a fierce jolt coursing through the whole of his body, emanating from where their flesh touched and quickly spreading to his head, arms, fingers, legs, and toes.

  Her skin felt as soft as velvet, infusing a heat that bloomed inside Julian. He also found himself unable to look away from those bright blue eyes that now seemed to have a ring of violet about the iris. An indicator, perhaps, that she was feeling the same desire as him?

  Georgiana had already said that she did, and because she had, Julian was going to have the devil’s own job resisting kissing and making love to her.

  He had never known another woman like Georgiana. So beautiful, and yet there was no subterfuge or slyness in her manner or actions as there were in so many others. Including his wife.

  Georgiana was, Julian freely acknowledged, more dangerous to him, and his heart, than any of the French soldiers had ever been during the years he fought against Napoleon’s army.

  Her name should have been Patience, not Georgiana!

  Mainly because her employer and host, following their frank conversation in his study that first day, had chosen to distance himself from her for the whole of the week that followed.

  He did so by leaving a list of secretarial tasks on his desk each morning for her to do before absenting himself for the rest of the day.

  Nor did he join her in the small dining room for luncheon or dinner.

  Georgiana presumed he must eat his breakfast in his bedchamber, but she had no idea where he ate the rest of his meals. Possibly in the private sitting room she now knew adjoined his bedchamber down the hallway from her own.

  She knew this because she had asked the butler to tell her how many rooms there were in the house and what their uses were. If he had thought her request strange, he had not shown it by either word or expression.

  She occasionally caught glimpses of Julian in one or other of the many hallways of the house. Or as he strode down to the stables to go out for one of his lengthy rides on the dark gray stallion he’d been riding the night they met. She had noticed he sometimes did this twice a day.

  Unfortunately, so far, Georgiana had not been quick enough to catch up to or waylay him.

  After seven days of this behavior, Georgiana’s patience was running very thin, if not becoming nonexistent. So much so that she knew she would be unable to resist confronting Julian for too much longer for his cowardice in obviously avoiding her company.

  It became a habit in the afternoons, once her work was done, for Georgiana to walk down through the dunes and onto the fine golden sand. Because of the flatness of the terrain, it was usually very windy, even on the brightest sunny day, but Georgiana found the brisk, briny air invigorating. Indeed, she was fast growing to love this bleak coastal area of Norfolk.

  Today was just such a day. Georgiana bent to pick up another interesting seashell washed up by the surging waves, before studying its beautiful pattern and striations as it lay in the palm of her hand. She had collected a lot of seashells, and some beautiful colored sea glass, during her walks on this private beach, often taking them back to her bedchamber at Moreland Park.

  “Pretty.”

  She straightened to smile at the young girl who had walked so quietly down the beach. Georgiana had not been aware of her presence until she spoke.

  She had met Meggie on the second day she strolled onto the beach. Meggie looked to be fifteen or sixteen years old, the Norfolk burr in her voice indicating she was from one of the local families. She was usually dressed accordingly, in a rough, loose linen gown of a serviceable gray or brown. Her only adornment was one of the bright and different-colored ribbons she always wore to pull back her long, dark hair.

  A few minutes spent in Meggie’s company also revealed her as being much younger than her appearance, in both her manner and speech.

  Georgiana hadn’t asked any of the servants about the young girl who also liked to walk on the beach and collect seashells, knowing that Meggie was trespassing on the private property of Moreland Park every time she came down to this particular beach. Georgiana did not wish to get her in trouble.

  The two of them had met several times during Georgiana’s daily walks, and she had quickly come to appreciate the simplicity with which Meggie viewed life. Georgiana already had enough complications to deal with, living in the same house as a man who was so pointedly avoiding spending time with her.

  Talking of which…

  A movement up in the dunes caught Georgiana’s attention, and she raised her hand to shield her eyes against the bright sunshine as she turned fully to observe the man seated upon the stationary dark gray horse.

  A man who, for several seconds, appeared to be looking back at her from beneath the brim of his top hat.

  Then, with a tug on the reins, he wheeled the stallion about, bent low over the black mane, and urged the beast into a gallop.

  Each step took the horse and rider farther away from where Georgiana stood on the sand.

  A Georgiana whose patience had finally come to an end.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Julian sat amongst the dunes a mile or so from the beach where he had seen Georgiana talking to young Meggie, the daughter of Robert Eames, Julian’s estate manager.

  He had seen the two females talking together before today, and Eames had mentioned that his daughter talked of the kind and beautiful dark-haired lady she sometimes met on the beach.

  Julian had no wish to argue regarding Meggie’s opinion of Georgiana, already knowing of her kindness and beauty.

  He was also inwardly pleased by the friendship, knowing Meggie didn’t make friends easily. It came as no surprise that Georgiana had chosen to befriend the young girl rather than shun her because she was different. Annabel had not been so kind in her opinion of Meggie.

  All the servants at Moreland Park seemed to like Georgiana. Julian had heard several of them comment that she was kind as well as beautiful, that she was always polite and smiling, and that she always showed an interest in them by asking about their health and families.

  Georgiana was a true lady. Everything that Annabel should have been but had sadly never aspired to be once the two of them were married.

  Julian already knew how lovely Georgiana was. He certainly didn’t need others to constantly remind him of how much more suited she would have been to being his duchess than Annabel had ever been.

  Truth was, Julian ached to spend time with Georgiana himself. To bask in that same warmth and kindness. Instead, he completely avoided her by absenting himself from the house as much as possible. Oftentimes by escaping for these daily, sometimes twice-daily, gallops across the sand. Come rain or shine.

  More often than not, Julian dismounted, as he had today, and then wandered amongst the dunes for an hour or so in an effort to spend even more time away from the house.

  Shadow, living up to his name, roamed free a short distance away from where Julian now sat, completely unperturbed by Julian sitting or pacing on the beach for some time every day for the past week.

  Julian was living in a hell of his own making. A hell that would surely stop the moment he sent Georgiana Stapleton back to London, where she belonged.

  Except, so far, he hadn’t found the strength to bring himself to do that.

  Instead, he lived for the occasional glimpses he caught of Georgiana as she went about fulfilling the list of daily tasks he left for her on the desk in his study each morning. Always long before she came downstairs for her breakfast.

  Or as she strolled along the sand in the afternoons, the ever-present sea breeze buffeting her gown against her legs and generous curves.

  By the third day, she had stopped wearing a bonnet on those forays after the wind constantly blew it from covering her dark curls, resulting in it only being held by the ribbon about the slenderness of her throat.

  Those visions of her loveliness stayed with Julian long after he had retired to his bedchamber each evening.

  That same image prevented him from sleeping.

  Because, Julian could admit to himself, Georgiana’s beauty now haunted him day and night.

  In his frustration, he had written a blistering letter to St. Albans telling him exactly what he thought of his friend for having put him in this untenable position.

  It had only been a matter of days since Julian sent that letter, and as yet, he hadn’t received a reply. But he had the greatest suspicion that, upon receiving Julian’s missive, the other man would greatly enjoy rather than lament his predicament.

  St. Albans was one of the people who had advised Julian that, once the necessary seven years had passed since Annabel’s disappearance, he should immediately report that abandonment to the authorities and have the marriage dissolved. St. Albans had assured him he would bear witness to the desertion by Julian’s wife.