3: Farmer George

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Charlotte POV:

I was trying to distract myself from the misery that was understanding my husband. Lady Danbury and I were enjoying an afternoon tea after the events of last week where she helped me to understand my 'marital duty.' I was letting the tea burn my tongue and my thoughts began to drift away from Lady Danbury's ideas and explanations about the world and the unfairness of being a woman. I turned to stare at her clouds pushing out the sun when I caught sight of George in the gardens with his shirt untucked and dirt scattered across his face and hands.

He had been more than just a little secretive as to why he was gardening or what he was doing with the physician. In all honesty, I did not believe him to actually be gardening, I had assumed it was a ruse to see his mistress or conduct non-gentlemanly activities. This site has caused me to reassess the true situation I was dealing with.

I heard Lady Danbury approaching to my left hammering on about society and my precarious position, a fact I was sure I already understood. I studied more intensely and tried to focus on the way his body moved under his clothes, desiring that body on myself and wondering what secrets kept us apart.

"Your Majesty, if you would stop wondering if a boy likes you and listen to me we may get somewhere," I turned my head shocked by her audacity.

"Forgive me, your majesty, it is just that we are in a precarious situation and if you do not provide England with an heir all will be lost."

"Lady Danbury, do not think I do not understand the delicate precision of our situation. I assure you we are trying for an heir, in fact, that is all we do," I explained to her in a most serious tone.

"I apologize, your majesty," she said with a dip of her knees and head.

"You may go," I said, "I must go see my husband." I walked out of the drawing room and headed for George's bed chamber, trying to beat him home so as to not be overlooked. I sneaked into his room and turned the door job shut before leaning gently along the windowsill.

I heard the clack of his boots and straightened my dress before seeing the door knob turn and having him walk into the room. He stopped in his tracks but not before flashing me a smile that wrinkled his cheeks and showed the dimples that pinched through. My face remained drawn in a line as he shut the door behind himself and walked a few steps closer to me.

"Hello, Charlotte," I inspected his face in the natural light of the window and saw dirt scattered around the top of his eyebrow.

"What were you doing out there?" I asked, disregarding his hello and redirecting him to give me answers.

"I told you," he said, turning on his heels and walking to a bowl of water placed on his dresser with a bar of soap placed next to it. He covered his hands with soapy water as he spoke, "I have many interests, and of those interests of science and art, farming is included." He finished rubbing the grime from his hands and wiped them on a cloth laid next to the bowl. He walked back over to me, his clothes still stained with dirt.

He held up his hands and turned them over for me to see the callouses and dents, "These are the hands of a farmer." He looked at them himself before dropping them back at his side and returning his gaze to me.

"So, farmer George then?" I asked with a small smile teasing at the corners of my mouth.

He let out a little laugh before tucking his hands behind his back again, "I suppose so."

I looked at him, and moved a step closer bring my hands up to the spots on his shirt smeared with dirt, "I think I like farmer George..." I trailed off letting my hands roam over his chest and dropping my gaze to his mouth. His body reacted to me quickly, pulling me closer to him by the hem of my dress.

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