Читать книгу An Earl In Want Of A Wife - Laura Martin, Laura Martin - Страница 10

Chapter Three

Lizzie was a bundle of nerves. It didn’t help that she hadn’t slept much at all. Every time she’d closed her eyes she’d been back in the Prestons’ garden being seduced by a mystery man. She didn’t even know his name. Even now she could feel the faint tingle of desire as she remembered his hands on her waist and his lips brushing her own.

She wondered if he would call on her, as he’d said he would. She didn’t know if she even wanted him to. She was torn. Half of her wanted to meet this man who had kissed her so passionately the night before, but the other half wanted to hold on to the dream. If he saw her in the light of day, Lizzie knew he’d realise he’d made a mistake. Perhaps it would be better if their dalliance was kept as something magical, something Lizzie could hold on to for the rest of her life. It wasn’t as though he would desire her once he actually met her properly and maybe it would be better if she didn’t actually see the disappointment in his face as he looked at her in the daylight.

‘Look, Amelia,’ Aunt Mathilda said as she entered the room, ‘these have just arrived for you.’

She was carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers, tied with a red ribbon. Lizzie found herself smiling, wondering if they were from her mystery gentleman the night before. She hadn’t even found out his name, she realised.

She took the card from Aunt Mathilda and felt her smile falter slightly as she read it. No, these certainly weren’t from her mystery gentleman. The card was signed Mr Anthony Green and Lizzie found it hard not to shudder as she remembered their encounter the night before. She’d been introduced to many eligible gentlemen, both young and old. Most had been pleasant, although she suspected had been more interested in putting a face to the dowry than actually making her acquaintance. Mr Anthony Green had been repulsive. Not in looks—in fact, he was quite a handsome man in his early thirties—but in manner. He’d lingered over her hand just a little too long and gone out of his way to touch her upper arm at any opportunity. That in itself, of course, didn’t make him repulsive, but she’d found that he had spent more time ogling the fine jewels that hung around her neck than actually looking at her. And he’d spoken of her fortune and her dowry to her face. It might have been Lizzie’s first night out in society, but even she knew dowries were something that were whispered about behind closed doors. Mr Green had made it perfectly clear that all he was interested in was her money, and that he didn’t even think it was worth trying to disguise the fact.

Aunt Mathilda arranged the flowers on the windowsill and looked at them approvingly.

‘I’m sure you’ll be receiving many more bouquets, my dear, and hopefully a few gentlemen callers this afternoon.’

Lizzie saw Harriet’s eyes narrow at the idea of her receiving a call from an eligible gentleman, but Lizzie tried to ignore it. She wasn’t sure why Harriet disliked her so much on first sight, but she wasn’t going to provoke the situation.

‘I’m sure you’re glad you were sufficiently recovered from your illness to make your début now,’ Harriet said snidely.

Lizzie had tried to feign an illness to delay her coming out, hoping that Aunt Mathilda might let her stay hidden in her house until Amelia returned. She’d complained of a headache, fever and light-headedness, and had even gone as far as to hold the teapot to her cheeks before Aunt Mathilda came to check on her, but the older woman had sat down beside her, taken her hand and told her not to worry. She had seen through Lizzie’s ruse and put it down to Lizzie feeling nervous about making her début, so Lizzie had found herself hustled into her beautiful dress and into the carriage before she could even begin to think of another excuse to delay.

The door to the drawing room opened quietly and the butler, an elderly man with an unflappable demeanour, stepped inside.

‘The Earl of Burwell to see Miss Amelia Eastway,’ Tippings announced.

Immediately all three women stiffened. Certainly they had been expecting calls from gentlemen of the ton, but an earl was in quite another league.

Aunt Mathilda quickly crossed the room to Lizzie’s side.

‘You know the Earl of Burwell?’ she asked, her face drained of colour.

Even Harriet looked a little impressed.

Lizzie couldn’t answer. Had she met the Earl of Burwell? If so, he hadn’t stuck in her mind and she rather thought an earl should do.

Unless, of course, he was her mystery gentleman. Lizzie suddenly felt sick. Had she been kissed by an earl in the Prestons’ garden? Surely not. Surely that was something a girl would know. He’d seemed so nice, so normal, not earl-like at all. She felt her face flush at the idea of him seeing her in the light of day and wondered if she had time to escape. Maybe feign a swoon.

The door opened once again and a man stepped inside. Out of habit Lizzie found herself standing and dropping into a little bob of a curtsy as a greeting. Only then did she have the courage to raise up her eyes and look at the man she might or might not have kissed the night before.

Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. Whomever she had expected to be standing in front of her it wasn’t this man.

‘You,’ she said before she could stop her mouth forming the words.

Lizzie could see this man was equally as surprised.

A thousand thoughts ran through Lizzie’s mind at once, not a single one coherent or helpful. Aunt Mathilda looked between Lizzie and the earl, but ever the polite hostess she invited him to sit without any further enquiry.

‘It is delightful to see you again, Miss Eastway,’ the earl said, sounding rather too composed for Lizzie’s liking.

The pieces started to fall into place and Lizzie wondered how she had not recognised his voice the night before. The Earl of Burwell was certainly her mystery gentleman, but it was not the first time they’d met. He was also the gentleman who had saved Lizzie from nearly being trampled to death by his horse, the man who had dismissed her with a single glance.

Lizzie wanted to curl up and disappear. She wondered how disappointed he was when he saw her, when he realised last night was not the first time they’d set eyes on each other.

‘It’s a beautiful afternoon,’ Aunt Mathilda said, trying to break some of the tension in the room.

‘It is indeed,’ the earl said.

‘How did you and Miss Eastway meet?’ Harriet asked and Lizzie remembered the smirk on her cousin’s face as she had witnessed Lizzie’s humiliation on her arrival to London.

The Earl of Burwell turned to face Harriet and looked at her appraisingly. His gaze was superior and a little haughty, and Lizzie was surprised Harriet didn’t squirm under the intensity of it.

‘We were formally introduced last night,’ he said eventually. ‘And I enjoyed our conversation so much I decided I wanted to see Miss Eastway again today.’

Although Lizzie knew that wasn’t quite the whole truth she was glad he’d silenced Harriet’s mocking before it had started.

‘How absolutely delightful,’ Aunt Mathilda said. ‘Now, Harriet, why don’t I show you that thing I was talking about earlier?’

Harriet looked blank but allowed her mother to usher her out of the room. Aunt Mathilda pulled the door behind her but left a chink between the wood and the frame for propriety’s sake.

Lizzie knew she would have to turn and face the earl, but she was finding it hard to summon the courage. She didn’t want to see the disappointment on his face, she didn’t want to hear him utter some made-up excuse to escape as soon as possible. For she knew he would be disappointed. Last night he hadn’t known who she was, she was sure of that. He hadn’t realised she was the woman who had caused so much havoc in the street just a week before. That woman he had dismissed without a second look, but last night he had treated her as though she were the most desirable woman on earth.

Lizzie’s heart started to sink. Maybe it had all been engineered, maybe her perfect fairy-tale moment had actually been nothing more than a fortune hunter making a naïve young girl feel attractive. She glanced briefly at the earl. He didn’t look like a fortune hunter, but she knew they came in all shapes and sizes.

‘I should apologise for last night,’ he said as he caught Lizzie’s eye.

She waited for him to actually apologise, but he was not forthcoming.

‘But I find myself unable to regret my actions.’

‘Why?’ The word was out before Lizzie could stop it. She berated herself immediately. She needed to get control of her tongue.

‘Why?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘Why did you kiss me?’ she whispered.

He regarded her silently for a minute, then looked away. She wondered if he were concocting a lie, trying to find something flattering to say.

‘It was rather magical last night, wasn’t it?’ he said eventually. ‘The warm summer’s evening, the faint echo of the music from the ballroom. Then a charming young woman comes and crashes into me and I just couldn’t resist.’

Lizzie found herself nodding. It had been rather magical. Not the part where she’d fallen down the stairs, or winded him so badly he hadn’t been able to breathe for a few moments, but afterwards. The caring way he’d helped her up, the feel of his touch on her skin and the moments they’d spent sitting on the bench side by side.

Then they’d stood up and Lizzie had felt him move towards her and she’d known she was about to be kissed.

‘It was not gentlemanly,’ he said seriously, but then broke out into a smile. ‘But I don’t regret it.’

She tried to believe him, tried to believe that sitting here he was not regretting the moment from the night before, but she wasn’t sure she could. Self-consciously Lizzie brushed a strand of hair away from her face. Ordinary brown hair, framing an ordinary face with just a few too many freckles.

With a glance at the door the earl stood and moved towards Lizzie. She found herself staring up at him, trying to control her breathing.

‘I really did enjoy our time together last night,’ he said, sitting himself down beside her.

Lizzie found herself nodding again. She’d enjoyed it, too.

‘And I really would like to get to know you a little more.’ His voice was low and a little seductive and Lizzie knew hundreds of women had fallen prey to him before.

She wanted to ask him why, wanted him to confess he was only interested in her for her supposed dowry, but she found her words had deserted her. His body was just that little bit too close, his thigh pressing against hers, and Lizzie knew she wouldn’t be able to construct a coherent sentence.

‘I think last night might have been the start of something special,’ he said.

Lizzie made a small murmur of agreement, even though she wasn’t sure she agreed. She felt mesmerised by him, completely under his spell, and even though her mind was screaming out that it wasn’t her that he wanted, it was Amelia, Lizzie found at this moment she didn’t really care.

She felt him studying her, his eyes flicking from her mouth to her cheeks to her hair, but always back to her mouth. Involuntarily she felt her lips part ever so slightly and she realised she wanted him to kiss her. Right then it didn’t matter why he was doing it, just that she wanted him to. She wanted to be lost once again in the oblivion of a kiss, wanted to feel the explosions within her body as his lips met hers.

Slowly, as if building the anticipation, the earl lowered his lips to hers. He started out gently, barely touching her. Lizzie felt the tension mounting and a soft moan escape her lips. She wanted more, needed more.

As if responding to her innermost thoughts he pressed his lips more firmly on to hers and deftly flicked his tongue inside her mouth. Lizzie’s eyes closed and she was lost. She didn’t care why he was kissing her; all she wanted was for it not to end.

She felt her body melting into his and relished his touch as he looped an arm around the back of her head, pulling her closer towards him. She wanted his hands all over her body, wanted him to touch her in places no one else had ever even seen.

Just as she felt the kiss couldn’t get any better suddenly the earl pulled away. He was smiling, but Lizzie could tell something was wrong. She wondered if she’d inadvertently done something terrible, something that would make him want to run from the room.

Suddenly Lizzie felt very self-conscious and raised a hand to cover the lips he had been so thoroughly kissing just moments before.

‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured. ‘I just couldn’t seem to help myself.’ He sounded a little puzzled and Lizzie could see a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

‘You are just so tempting,’ he said, tracing a pattern on the back of her hand.

Immediately Lizzie crashed back to reality. She knew that was a lie. She straightened up, pulling away, and gave him a forced little smile.

‘I’m sure my aunt will be back in a few minutes,’ she said pointedly.

The earl looked confused, as if no one had ever rejected him before, but took the hint and moved back across the room to the chair he’d been sitting in before. An uncomfortable silence followed and Lizzie found herself blinking the tears away from her eyes. This was cruel and unnecessary. Up until very recently she’d been quite content with her lot. She’d known she wasn’t a great beauty. Combining that with her lack of fortune, she’d never expected to make a good marital match. In fact, she’d been quite convinced she would never be a wife, just a spinster all her life. Now here she was being utterly seduced by a handsome and charming man, knowing all along it wasn’t her that he wanted at all.