This story takes place in England, 1760, some years before lady Georgia sadly married Lord Walter Pearson at the young age of sixteen. Four years later, Lord Pearson tragically lost his life in a duel to his former lover's husband. Now, widowed fro...
Granville Estate Shrewsbury, England Francis' Bed Chamber
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In England, when it rains it pours. Even in the small beautiful countryside of Shrewsbury. The evening ended in a crush at the Cashwell's annual tea party. At least this year the rain decided to come well after the party was over. Georgia was thankful as she made it through the entire evening without managing to get caught in the flenched weather. Well, not exactly the entire evening.
For some reason her heart and mind knew she would be with the duke tonight even before he sent his request or his one worded letters. Could it have been the way he had been smiling at her clear as day clear for anyone to see? As clear as those glassy blue eyes of his? At this point Georgia's mind was like a scrambled egg. She was confused about the woman whom she'd seen him with but all was forgotten when he was right in front of her with a gleam so wicked in his eyes that held her captive until it conquered her covering her completely. It was utterly unmistakably inexplicable.
Upon returning to Heywood Manor after a very splendid supper from all the drinking everyone indulged in at the tea party Georgia retired early to her rooms after spending some time with Luella. She still hadn't yet figured out a plan for telling Luella about her grandparent's request and she hadn't really thought much on it either or wanted to for that matter.
She wanted to forget about the letter and its entirety all together. Many times she felt tempted to pick up the book she had hid it under and toss it idly into the furnace, but how could she bring herself to do that? How could she not even try for Luella's sake? She'd probably never forgive herself. She knew this battle would not be easily won or fought so with a deep sigh and the sudden need for a second opinion she pushed all of those thoughts and unlikely possibilities to the side and focused on the one thing that was possible.
Instead of alarming Susan to help her dress for these late night occasions or rendezvous rather. Georgia not bothering to take her hairpins out dressed herself in a pale blue cotton dress and put on her dark brown cloak with pink flowers pointing downwards in a row at the hem of the hood and sleeves.
As soon a she placed her boots on that's when she realized she hadn't even gotten a letter or an invitation. Her heart was slamming in her chest as thunder rolled from under the clouds. Moments later there was the lightest knock at the door. Harold, the butler.
"Please come in." Georgia said testing her voice after that mini panic attack. It was still somewhat even, although raspy, perhaps from the wine.
"My, Lady there is a letter for you." Harold said as he brought the correspondence on a smaller silver tray than usual.
"Yes, thank you Harold. You may be excused." Georgia tried to say without sounding impatiently foreboding.
