Page 88 of The Mistletoe Dare

“Don’t cry,” he warned her, looking alarmed.

She gave a muffled laugh and shook her head. “Well, how on earth do you expect me not to when you are so adorable? If you want me to stop, you’ll have to be an obnoxious arse again, because I love you too, Alden. I’m utterly, hopelessly besotted, and you’ll find it a dreadful trial, I’m afraid, but it’s too late now. You’re stuck with me.”

He stared down at her, his heart in his eyes, and Georgie wondered if her own heart could contain any more happiness as she saw how her words had pleased him.

His expression was still somewhat dazed when he finally spoke. “Stuck with you, am I?”

Georgie nodded.

“Well, thank God for that,” he murmured, and kissed her again.

Chapter 22

Dearest Evie,

I am happy! Ridiculously happy. The kind where I can’t stop smiling for no reason. I’m certain I must be revolting company to anyone but Rochford. As we are currently inseparable, I suppose that is not a problem, though, is it?

I will not blame you if you are making retching sounds at this moment. It is nauseating, I know, but all the same, I hope you find someone who makes you feel this way one day, Evie, dear. For it is the most marvellous sensation, to be married to a good man in whom you can put your trust and give your whole heart.

You must find someone very special to be worthy of you, though, my dear friend.

―Excerpt of a letter from Her Grace, Georgina Seymour, The Duchess of Rochford (daughter of Ruth and Gordon Anderson, The Earl and Countess of Morven) to Miss Evie Knight (daughter of Lady Helena and Mr Gabriel Knight).

9th March 1841, Mulcaster Castle, Cumbria.

They only spent the one night at Wick, though it was tempting to linger, but Rochford admitted he had neglected Mulcaster for too long and needed to return. Georgie hadn’t minded, eager to inspect her new home and see what she could make of it, for Rochford had painted a rather bleak picture of the castle, and she intended to make it a loving, comfortable home for him, for them both.

Georgie gave a shriek as that new home came into view.

“Rochford!” she exclaimed, grasping his hand and holding on tight. “You’ll never see me again.”

“Why? Is it that bad?” he asked, frowning.

She shook her head, dumbfounded. “No,” she said faintly. “But I’ve a dreadful sense of direction and I’m bound to get lost. It’s—”

“A monstrosity, I know,” he said dryly as the carriage rumbled up the driveway.

“Magnificent,” she corrected him with a tut.

Rochford laughed and pulled her into his lap. “You have some very odd notions, duchess. Things that most people find ugly and overbearing, you find enchanting.”

“It is enchanting,” she said, snuggling against his chest as she watched the castle grow closer. He held her tight, kissing the top of her head.

“Well, I expect your mother will be champing at the bit to get my measure,” Georgie said, trying to tamp down a surge of anxiety. She had promised herself she would be polite for her husband’s sake. He would not want his wife and mother at each other’s throats, she knew, but she could not feel kindly towards a woman who had treated Rochford so coldly. If she’d shown him even a scrap of affection, he would have been so much less alone all these years. Georgie turned to look at him, aware he had not answered and that he suddenly seemed very tense.

“Alden?”

He still said nothing, so Georgie took hold of his beard and gently tugged until he looked her in the eyes.

“You did tell your mother I was coming, didn’t you?”

Her husband cleared his throat, looking shifty. Oh, no.

“Rochford! You told her you were getting married, at least?” she asked in horror.

He shrugged. “It slipped my mind,” he said defensively.

“It—” Georgie stared at him. “How could marrying me slip your mind?” she demanded.