Authors: Delilah Marvelle
Gritting his teeth, he snapped a finger to the open door of his room at the insult. “Given that you clearly wish to keep talking well above a rational tone, I demand you step into my room. Because I am not about to let you make a strumpet of yourself like this in public.”
Her lips parted. She slowly stepped back, searching his face. “You’re not my Robinson. I don’t know who you are.”
His gut twisted. “I am still the same man, Georgia. What you don’t seem to understand, however, is that men of my status do not go about bedding women outside of matrimony. Do I need to tell you what people will whisper about you? Do I?”
She kept on shaking her head from side to side, tears welling her eyes. “’Tis obvious you’ve got two opposin’ voices in your head. One belongin’ to my Robinson and the other to this—this…Tremayne. But you can’t be both, Robinson. You can’t. Because they’re not the same men. What
Robinson
wants for me is what
I
want for me. Love with every breath, laughter when everythin’ is dire, kindness above all else and never-endin’ honesty even when the world has none. As for what this
Tremayne
wants for me? Hell if I know what he wants!”
He threw his head back, praying he had the strength to survive against that fire that always seemed to sear him. “You and I were born unto two different circles, and though we may love each other, if this is going to work, you will have to be the one to bend to the rules of
my
world. Because if I bend, Georgia, it will send us straight into poverty, and I will
not
have that for you or my children.
I will not
. Not after living it.” He leveled his head. Glancing down the empty corridor to ensure their privacy, he met her gaze again. “I want and need to know all about the history of the dancing hole and ask that we retire into my room to ensure your privacy.”
“You think I care what the world thinks of me? They already passed judgment on me long ago.” She crossed her arms over her breasts and shot him a cool, disapproving look. “Once upon a time, there was a girl set to marry a dashin’ mason known as Garvin the divine. Every woman in the Five Points wanted to wear her apron, given he made almost four dollars a week. Though she wanted to bed this Garvin well before the weddin’, he wouldn’t let them, given he was a good Catholic. At the time, it irked her to wait, but she was glad for it, because she most certainly didn’t end up with the bastard.”
Roderick’s lips parted, knowing Georgia was actually talking about herself. Though he wanted to give way to a sweltering fury knowing that she had been involved with yet
another
man outside of her husband and John, he sensed this story was about to toss itself into a dark corner he had yet to understand. “So why didn’t you marry this Garvin? Why did you marry Raymond?”
She glanced off to the side and blinked rapidly. “The night before she and Garvin were to marry before a priest, they went out to celebrate and have themselves a bit of mince pie and whiskey over at the dancin’ hole. That’s when the ever kind, ever serious and ever respectable
Mr. Raymond George Milton,
whom she’d lived with since he’d nobly rescued her out of a coal bin, followed them there. He sat in the corner of that dancin’ hole all night, quietly watchin’ her and Garvin. He sat there and sat there without movin’ until the place was empty of but three and a fiddler.”
Roderick couldn’t breathe. “What did he do?”
She trailed her gaze up back to his, her features tightening but her face remaining strong. “What I hoped he would. He kneeled before the door and said, ‘Georgia, I know you are set to marry, and fool that I am, I waited until the last breath, but to live without you would only make me feel as old as I already am. Say you love me. Say you love me, because I love you
.
’ I was as moved and astounded as I was overjoyed. He’d never once breathed his affection to me, even though I had secretly yearned to be with him since I was fifteen. Raymond was kind, noble and educated and dashin’ in a way no man in the Five Points was and always treated me with far more respect than I’d ever given myself. It didn’t matter that he was thirty-five years older than me. I was madly in love with his mind and his soul and everythin’ he’d given me as a person. He taught me to
always
want more for myself.”
She shook her head, lowering her gaze. “And that’s when Garvin hit him. Raymond took the blow but never fought back, sayin’ he had to say it and I was so glad he did. Because I loved him. I’ve always loved him, but never once thought he’d want me in that way, given I was nothin’ but a rag he’d patched up. So I married Raymond the next morn despite bein’ spit at by Garvin’s family. You think I cared? ’Twas bliss I’d found, and though I tried lovin’ Raymond the best I knew how, he always shied away from all things physical. It wasn’t that he didn’t lust for me. He did, and he proved it when I forced him to, but he had this—this
voice
in his head that kept tellin’ him his age was a vice in our relationship. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t dig that voice out. He kept thinkin’ he was debauchin’ a young girl he’d managed to drag into his mess of a life, even though I was willin’ and a full eighteen and his wife.”
A lone tear trickled down the side of her cheek and a choked sob escaped her lips. “And then Raymond, damn him, died all but seven weeks later, on his own at three and fifty. His heart stopped. I cried over that bastard to no end knowin’ that I gave him everythin’—my heart, my body and soul—only to be left with nothin’. And I fear I’m goin’ down that path again with you. What if I give up everythin’ and only end up with nothin’? What then, Robinson?
What then?
My heart can only be patched up so many times.”
Roderick swallowed, unable to quell the choking angst writhing within him. He reached out a trembling hand and cupped her tear-streaked cheek, utterly and madly in love with everything she was. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t the first man to touch her or love her. What mattered was that she was giving him a chance to love her. “Georgia,” he rasped. “I would force my own damn heart to beat beyond its years to be with you. Everything I am doing, I am doing for you.”
She pushed his hand away, swiping away tears. “And there’s Robinson again, reachin’ out for me in a way I know Tremayne wouldn’t.” She sniffed and sniffed again, waving her hand about. “I’m done tryin’ to figure out who you really are. Just tell Robinson, if he’s listenin’, that I fear this Tremayne is goin’ to break my heart because he and I were born of two different worlds.” Her expression stilled and grew serious as she held his gaze. “Just tell me. And be honest. Will you really be able to love me with enough fire to make this last for the rest of our days? Even if your father should turn against us?”
“Georgia.” Feeling the temperature of his body warming his still-rain-dampened clothes, he edged back to ensure he didn’t grab for her lest he unravel and take her up against another wall. “I
know
this fire and this passion within me will outlast everything and everyone around us. Let there be no doubt in that.”
She shook her head, her lips pinching together as if she were trying to fight the last of any emotion she felt. “The words came out so beautifully, but instead of you steppin’ toward me, damn you, you stepped back.”
His throat tightened. “Georgia, I
—
”
“Don’t you ‘Georgia’ me. You asked me to never again kneel on broken glass and yet you’re makin’ me kneel even though I’m tryin’ to get up.” Her green eyes were no longer streaked with anguish but with a raging fire that threatened to burn him to ash. “I’m willin’ to play whatever role you want me to durin’ the day, but I’m not doin’ it when the curtain falls and the audience goes home at night. I need more than words to cradle against my heart whilst I sweat like a pig dancin’ in silk for you and the world.”
Still staring him down, she added, “I’m just not about to settle for a man who is goin’ to do the same thing to me that Raymond did. Makin’ me feel undesirable because of who and what I am. If I were you, Robinson, I’d be in my room and in my bed at nine tonight or we’re done. You hear? We’re done.” She pointed at him one last time as if
he
were responsible for all of their troubles, then swung away and marched down the length of the corridor where the duke quietly lingered with both of his hands in his coat pockets.
Roderick swiped his face in exasperation only to wince given his hand was still tender and raw.
“Your Grace,” Georgia demurely intoned to the duke in a form of artificial passing. “I’m sorry. It needed to be said.”
The duke inclined his head. Lifting a gloved hand out of his coat pocket, he gestured toward the corridor beside them. “The footman is ready to settle you into your room.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” She glanced back toward Roderick, set her chin and majestically swept out of sight as if she were the duchess and
he
the derelict.
Damn her.
The duke slowly made his way toward him. “Yardley.”
And so, yet another battle was set to begin. “Yes, yes. I know, I know. There is a problem.” Roderick gestured toward the open door of his room. “Can we take this inside?”
“Yes. I would prefer that.” The duke strode past and into the room beyond.
Roderick followed him in. Quickly shutting the door, he swung back, meeting those overly serious brown eyes. “How much of our conversation did you actually overhear?”
“Her voice carried itself down every single last corridor long before I made it back into sight. I heard everything. And I do mean everything.” The duke winced and adjusted his black morning coat.
Roderick groaned and bit back his frustration. “I ask that you forgive her. She is incredibly passionate.”
The duke reached out and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder, bringing the scent of cigars and port. He leaned in and lowered not only his gaze but his voice. “Yardley. You will never hear me say this again, for it is none of my business who you love, but you would be a bastard of the worst sort to destroy that poor woman by dragging her into your life. It sounds as if she has already endured more than enough. You shouldn’t ask her to endure more.”
Roderick glanced toward him in heart-pounding astonishment. The man had indeed heard
everything
and apparently had
wanted
to hear everything to have lingered about so damn long.
Violently shoving that large hand away from his shoulder, Roderick stepped back. “Setting aside that you had no right to willfully impose and listen in on what you
knew
to be a private conversation, I am not about to stand here and listen to you prattle on as to how I seek to destroy her.
You
are the one putting
your
name and wealth before what is most important to me—
love
.”
The duke pointed at him, shaking his gray head, and edged back. “No. That is where you are wrong. For I wholeheartedly believe in love and would never put anything before it. I was married to your mother, for God’s sake, and
that
was a love I dare you and the rest of the world to match!”
The duke dropped his hand heavily to his side and glanced away. Drawing in a ragged breath, he hissed it out, lowering his gaze. “I never knew fire until your mother came along.” The duke threw back his head and blinked rapidly as if fighting tears. “The very thought of her still makes me ache despite her being gone all these years. It just so happened that she and I were born of the same world. Such is not the case with you and Mrs. Milton.”
The duke leveled his head. “Even if I allowed you to marry this poor girl for love, in the end, it is not you or I who will suffer, but her. Bless her heart, but that woman doesn’t breathe like us or think like us. Your desire to make her into the sort of woman London will accept is ludicrous. It takes
years
to create the lady London wants and by then she’ll be dead to you. They will only shred her apart and shun her until all of that fire you love in her will turn against you and burn you to cinder like you damn well deserve.”