Loving Lady Georgianna (Spirited #2)

Chapter 30

"So, who the bloody hell do I need to kill?"

Georgie rolled her eyes at her brother's question. They had taken seats in the parlor, tea and biscuits set upon the table, and her family spread out around her. It brought a smile to Georgie's lips. And if she happened to wish Vincent was here—as he had been at Greyson's estate those many weeks ago—well, Georgie was determined not to think about that.

And yet, he was there every moment as Georgie watched her brother and his wife, together. Charlotte looked...happy. Her dark locks had grown out again, and they were piled atop her head in loose curls. Her face was flush and her skin tanned, her gown shimmering and bringing out the bolts of navy blue and sparks of violet shimmering in her gaze. Charlie linked her hand with Greyson's and every few moments, Charlie would peer from beneath her lashes at Greyson. Their eyes would catch, a smirk on Greyson's lips and an adored expression on Charlie's. 

Georgie took her eyes off their joined hands and met Greyson's gray gaze. "It didn't take long for the gossip to reach you, I see." 

At least in this, the ton was remarkably consistent. They were a bunch of wayward and wagging tongues always ready to expel the latest on dit. Why, at any moment, Georgie expected to see a bevy of them dancing jigs along the street and mocking Georgie's luck.

"It's all anyone can talk about," Greyson said, growling softly, "and we were stopped every few minutes by another peacock and his snub-nosed mother."

Georgie snorted a laugh, but Greyson wasn't done.

"Do I need to pay the duke a visit, Georgianna? Because if he hurt you..." Greyson fisted his hands at his sides, and Georgie remembered that not too long ago, Greyson and Charlie had fought against their own foe. It wasn't right that the first thing that happened after their one brief slice of happiness was to be embroiled in her scandal. Her. 

The irony of it was astounding For everyone considered Georgie a block of ice, one chipped in poise and grace. At least she had been before Vincent had come in and mucked it all up. Until she had. 

"You'll what, Greyson?" Georgie asked now,  jaw tight. "You can't go out and do anything to a duke, Greyson. You're an earl, not the king."

"Oh, lord. Don't say that," Charlie snickered. "The poor man's delicate sensibilities will be hurt."

"Quiet, minx," Greyson chided, his eyes caressing his wife. Charlie stuck out her tongue, and Greyson rolled his eyes playfully before focusing on Georgie. "I can call the duke out. And besides," he said, giving his wife a side-eye glance, "I have no doubt that if the duke did hurt my sister, you'd be the first woman leading the charge."

At this, Charlie turned to Sophie. "And Sophie as well."

Sophie smirked. "Obviously."

"So tell me," Charlie said, narrowing her eyes and contemplating Georgie. "Did the mongrel hurt you?"

Georgie laughed. Was every one willing to fight so much on her behalf? Tears welled in her eyes, but Georgie blinked them away. It wouldn't do to lose her composure now. Especially not after she had worked so hard to contain it. "I can't take the lot of you anywhere."

"Hm. A subject change..." Sophie noted, lips pursed. Her eyes flashed to Charlie who nodded.

"Noted."

Rolling her eyes, Georgie scoffed. "The duke did not hurt me. As I was telling Sophie earlier, it was I who called off our nuptials."

"Well, what the devil for?"

"Greyson—" Lady Marianne's chide went unheeded, as her son stood, hands in his pockets and a tick in his jaw.

"Before Charlie and I left for our honeymoon, you wanted a family. Children. Is that not what you want still?"