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...
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From the time Georgia returned home to Heywood Manor then to the peachy smooth comforts of her bed chambers that following night after tiptoeing through the dark corridors without managing to be noticed, bumping into anything, or waking anyone she stripped out of her pelisse and plain brown cotton dress until she was left in only her chemise and found her way underneath the made-up layers of peachy-yellow-colored silky covers and duvets.
Her head hit the pillow and instead of the slow inclination of sleep drawing upon her, her mind raced back to the meadow beyond Heywood Manor and Granville Estate, back to the secluded heavenly spiritual garden, back to how it felt to have Francis' lips right on top of hers. Oh, Francis.
Francis. Francis. Francis.
Was all Georgia could really think about and all she really had preferred to think about actually. She wasn't really sure what possessed him to kiss her like that but what made her even more uncertain is why had she responded in that way. How did she even know to respond in that way? It was all almost too frightening, too thrilling, and she had realized even more how her body didn't betray her because she had been mostly attracted to the duke since the first day, they had seen each other but what?
What else was there to really say she had kissed him as much as he wanted to kiss her. But why did she feel like now some secret spell was bound upon her all of a sudden solely cast by the duke himself and only he had the key to unlock the shackles from her wounded unforgiving heart.
Sleep came in fits that night, blurs of reality meeting the front lines of Georgia's dreams. Bits and pieces of her life put on display while in and out of consciousness. So it was no wonder after she had awoken and Susan dressed Georgia for the day in a vertical stripped light pink and creme colored day dress from her Robe a la Anglaise collection, which incorporated two fine silk creme linens wrapping comfortably around the front of her shoulders to cover her chest. She instantly remembered how the duke had slightly ravished her with his eyes there in that particular area last night and felt the need to be modestly covered being slightly embarrassed. No man had ever looked at her the way he did with such want and desire. It made Georgia's cheeks flush all over again.
Susan had taken the top half of Georgia's long raven strands and pinned them neatly to the middle of her head with a small crown of braids and curls using pearl hair pins and let the rest of her hair flow evenly down her back with slight ripples for waves. Georgia's hair was now down to the small of her back and moved silkily whenever she did as well. She looked in the mirror at herself and frowned noticing the dark purple circles under her eyes that Susan seemingly neglected.
"Are you not satisfied with your choice of hair and dress, my Lady?" Susan said clasping her hands together in front of her in nervous anticipation with concerned bright blue eyes.
"No, I am very satisfied. However, Susan my eyes look as if I hadn't slept all night." Georgia said straining her neck to actually look at her instead of seeing her through the mirror. "See." She said taking both hands and pushing her cheeks in a downwards motion with her fingertips.
