Loving Lady Georgianna (Spirited #2)

Chapter 25

The bookshop surrounded Georgie and she breathed it in, delighting in the scent of parchment and ink. It soothed her after the contrasting emotions that had plagued her since Vincent had left this morning. After their conversation, Georgie must have fallen asleep at some point, the confession choked back into her throat, for when she awoke, her pulse pounded and sweat dripped down her face.

In her dream, Vincent knew of her child - their child. His face twisted in revulsion down at her as Georgie sunk to her knees, holding his large hand and drawing his knuckles to her lips, begging.

But Vincent had ripped out of her loose grip and cursed her for her transgression.

It had been bad enough that it had startled Vincent from his doze beside her and he had taken her into his arms. His breath was warm as he whispered against her temple, his fingers caressing her hair, before Georgie had fallen back to sleep.

And then, Georgie had awoken a second time. It hadn't been a nightmare. No, it had been a dream. Vincent's weight pressed into her and his mouth was at her breast. It had been a desperate coupling, made more so when not long after she came down from her pleasure, her lady's maid had knocked upon the door. Vincent had barely hopped into his trousers, his shirtwaist misbuttoned, before propelling over the balcony. One moment Vincent was within her sight and the next he disappeared only for an oof! to reach her ears followed by the thud of his body.

Georgie had run to the balcony, hand over her mouth, as she leaned over the rail. Vincent had waved to her from below as he stumbled to his feet, rubbing his arse all the while. "Only my pride is bruised, dear girl. Only my pride."

The remembrance made Georgie grin. Although, his exaggerated limping gait was possibly overkill.

It all led her here, to Mr. Ames' bookshop. While her mind eschewed for some way to deliver her secret without losing everything she held dear, she would draw comfort from the smell of finely printed books. For with last evening, her dream had changed. Where before she had settled for Burkeley, wishing to live out the remainder of her days outside public scrutiny, now she realized that some things were quite worth the pain in achieving them.

Narrowly colliding with a table piled high with merchandise, Georgie laughed and met Mr. Ames' blue gaze across the room.

"Good day, my lady."

Georgie smiled, feeling her mood lift like it always did. This place was a constant, filled with people - with life. The bookstore never changed. Sure, the stock shifted and varied, but Mr. Ames' friendly smile did not. Nor the tables teeming with paper bindings and cloth. Her shoulders dropped and a breath left her in a gust. "Good day, Mr. Ames. Any new titles for me today?"

She was already making her way to the center of the bookshop where a table piled with the newest selections were held.

"I have a particular one that might interest you, my lady. Just sent in this morning." Mr. Ames shuffled over, his brown jacket baggy on his slim frame. His glasses were perched on the tip of his nose and, as he came closer, the scent of peppermint clung to his breath. Mr. Ames pushed his spectacles further up the bridge of his nose only for the offending frames to fall exactly as they had been. He stopped before her, a book clutched in his thin, blue-veined hand. "The newest edition of Belinda arrived today."

Georgie caught her breath at that.

Marie Edgeworth's work had become a bit of an obsession for her. Her treatise on education was most logical, and it was a worthy cause of note. She grabbed at the novel, enjoying Mr. Ames' soft chuckle at her enthusiasm, as she opened the cover and drew one finger over the embossed gold lettering. A most worthy book, to be sure.