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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"Your Grace, you have a caller." Presley, the Duke's original butler announced from his study door.
The duke sighed and finished the last of his coffee. He had no appetite for breakfast as of late and had been overly partaking in some of his business investments for a good distraction from all that had happened between the lady Georgia and himself. So, he only suspected that the call could only be pertaining to some of those important matters.
"Thank you, Presley." The duke said using a napkin to dab his lips. "And, where are they?" He asked raising a dark brow.
"Drawing room, your grace." Presley said and bowed on his way out.
Francis gained to his feet and headed to the drawing room. For a moment he imagined that it would be the woman his memory had been conjuring up for the last month or so standing right before him when he entered the room, beautiful as ever with her satiny, black locks falling down and around her shoulders.
He was cursing himself immediately for allowing his train of thoughts to linger in that direction. For, his nether regions were almost standing to full attention from the mere memory of her when he entered the drawing room. He saw that the visitors had actually been his mother and sister, the Duchess of St. Gerard and the Duchess of Kent with her son, Lord William, his newest nephew, who was still a four month old infant.
"Mother, sister..." He blinked and stood behind a long chair as soon as he entered the room.
"Francis, please let our mother explain." Edith, his sister said apprehensively. The mood of the room was impending. As if they both thought he were furious with them. It was quite hysterical, actually. If it had not been for his sudden distress.
"My son," His mother said with a start and he had fought the urge to roll his eyes. Honestly, he had been so wrapped up in his investments and trying his damned hardest not to think about all that had transpired between him and the Lady Georgia, but miserably failing to do so. He hadn't even had time to process his mother's treacherous behavior.
Ever since setting foot in Shrewsbury his thoughts now drifted to Georgia like how the sun rises early in the east, and sets in the west, before covering every inch in of sky in between. He had been so distraught he decided upon having a said ball and inviting the young widow, even if it was just to glance upon her for a short while, fore the last time was not enough to quench his thirst for her. He could only hope that she wouldn't abandon his request.
As for his mother. Her sins were already atoned for. He had no quarrel with her. Even after, she blatantly lied and sent him off to the country. Turns out, it was one of the best things that ever happened to him. Except for the part where he bungled it up.
He still remembered the look upon Georgia's face when she told him "no". He instantly caught a chill and flashed back to his mother in front of him who grabbed him by his arms then squeezed him tightly.
