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...
Georgia's stomach dropped to her knees as her heart danced uncontrollably at the near mention of the Duke. She was in fact very anxious to see him after speaking with the two ladies that greeted them at the entrance hall. She also noticed during the brief exchange that the woman who was introduced as the Duchess of Kent seemed to be the daughter of the older woman who was also introduced as the Duchess of St. Gerrad. She couldn't help but to feel something eerily familiar about them both with their prominent, blue eyes and dark, golden curls. Somehow, she got the idea that they had to be somehow related to the Duke.
Lady Georgia didn't have time to dwell on the two ladies for much longer as she and George were now entering into the ballroom a few paces down from the entrance hall. They were both announced before proceeding down the stairs and she noticed the instant reactions from families she had not seen in some years. George led her over to a servant holding a tray of French champagne and offered her a glass to calm her nerves.
All her senses seemed to be heightened. She felt as if she were a hot, clammy, and anxious ball of nerves. Her stomach felt as if it were doing summersaults repeatedly. She had assumed that it was the child within her that was causing the sudden dreadful emotions to well up inside her, trying their best to push to the forefront. She had to remain in control or this night would most certainly turn into a disaster. She refused to let those impulses cause her this night. This was all she had hoped for.
George was saying something to her, but she could barely make out a word he was saying. Many people buzzed about. Chatters, whispers, and clinking wine glasses filled the entire room. Georgia was captivated by all that was happening around her. It wasn't until she felt George tug at the dance card dangling from her wrist, which helped her to realize that he was saying he wished to dance the first set with her. It had been so very long since they last had danced together. In those days they both were children, really, and now they both had, had children and families of their own.
Her eyes continued to scan through the excessive bushels of orchids tied with white ribbon, beeswax candles lining the walls, silken drapes dusting the overly polished floors which were tied back elegantly with rope, high baroque ceilings, and dainty chandeliers. Even the cutlery seemed evermore expensive than normal. For some reason, lady Georgia had the notion that this ball wasn't just any ordinary ball. Everything seemed so fanciful and over the top. All the details were beginning to stand out her. Even, the fact that she had yet to spot Francis which was causing her to become more anxious by the second of his impending arrival.
Biting down on her bottom lip she reminded herself why she even came here tonight. It wasn't because lady Vivienne, her dearest friend, had asked her here. It was because in her heart of hearts she knew very well she had to out with the truth to Francis of her condition. One which was acquired by the deepest passions of the flesh that she had ever known, if not love. At least, she was no fool in that department, but the longer she waited for the Duke's arrival, the more she felt like a fool indeed.
What was she thinking? She had utterly disgraced herself. Now, here she was with child and out of wedlock. Would he provide for them? Would he still care for her and the child? She wasn't even really sure anymore. The emotions that were welling up inside her where becoming to difficult to contain. She was feeling not herself at all. Her chest began to throb and felt oddly heavy, but she continued to push through the night.
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