Loving Lady Georgianna (Spirited #2)

Chapter 17

Georgie came to with a throbbing headache and roiling stomach.

Heavens, where was she?

She jangled about, groaning, and a warmth landed atop her head, pulling a strand of hair back and ringing it around the shell of her ear. Wherever she was, the pillow beneath her head was soft, and a rough but gentle pull skimmed her cheekbone, unsettling her.

That's when the incessant chattering reached her, and then her shoulder was being shaken and someone was calling for her. The voice was distant as if in the back of her mind somewhere and for a moment, she thought it was Papa's voice. His face was blurry, but she could make out the form of him in the dark. Hair as dark as Greyson's only slightly more black, his shoulders wide and encased in his favored dark brown colored coat. "Still causing trouble it seems. There's my girl."

Her nose curled and she shifted away from the hand. And then, Georgie wished she hadn't as a searing pain boiled beneath her skin and kicked up a fuss. Her ribs were tender and her arm blistered.

"You and that mischief making boy of yours." Papa clucked, his brown eyes dancing with laughter, as he began to step back, away from her. Georgie shifted, reaching out for him.

"Don't leave me, Papa. What's happened? I need you."

"Ack, what a fright she's had." That voice sounded from somewhere to her left, in another dimension entirely from where she was now, her skirts tangling in her legs and tripping her as her father disappeared farther and farther away.

"Poor thing, dreaming of her Papa," another voice clucked. "How dreadful that must have been."

"And then to fall asleep in one's chamber and be awakened with fire..."

"Girls." The voice came from above Georgie, and her head tilted towards it. She felt her father dissipate, felt her body moving in the other direction, towards the outer world, but she knew her father wouldn't mind.

He would want her to follow that voice.

Burying her face further into the pillow, she let it wash over her, the masculine pine scent soothing her muscles. A hand ran through her hair, soft as a wisp, and she moaned, her arm flinging over her head as her hand captured the wrist of that gentle hand.

"Georgie? Are you awake, yet, love?" The sheltering warmth of that body captured her, and Georgie's eyes fluttered open. She blinked. A pair of glimmering green eyes did the same.

They were beautiful eyes, shielded so in golden lashes.

"My love? Where does it hurt?"

It was then the aches of some injury took over. She moaned, incoherent, and tried to sit up. Thorne's hand captured her shoulder and the other pushed against her lower back, helping her up and then she was leaning against Thorne's side, his free hand hooking over her left elbow.

"What happened?"

"Cor, but you almost were strudel on the sidewalk!"

"Where did you hear that word?"

Thorne gave his sister a reprimanding glance, before his attention turned to Georgie. She winced as his finger ran over her chin.

"What? The servants use that word."

"I thought I told you not to stop bothering them going about their work," Thorne growled, never once taking his attention off of Georgie, "and a lady shouldn't use that coarse word."

Suzanne rolled her eyes. "Of course. What great fun to be a lady -"

Bernie snorted, and Georgie felt her own lips tilt which pinched the bruised skin of her face. She winced.