Sinfully Bound To The Enigmatic Viscount (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

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Sinfully Bound To The Enigmatic Viscount (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 13

by Scarlett Osborne


  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered, finally answering his own declaration. She reached up, the pad of her thumb brushing against his lower lip. His whole being reacted, filling up with desire. It was like a fire, burning in his chest.

  “Diana!” her aunt was yelling. They both sighed, grinning as they moved apart. He offered her his arm, which she took. They both began to slowly walk back toward Lady Bolger’s voice. “Diana! Where are you?”

  “Yes, Aunt Clarabelle?’ Diana called back, her voice as smooth as honey.

  “Where were you?” Lady Bolger demanded, just as the two of them stepped out of the hedge row.

  “Just here,” Diana replied archly. Elijah was impressed. She didn’t seem in the least bit ruffled. He himself was blushing furiously, his cheeks burning.

  “What were you doing?” Lady Bolger demanded. “You were supposed to be right behind me!” Her eyes were wide, and her neck wobbled as she spoke.

  “Lord Cambolton was showing me the roses,” Diana explained, gesturing casually toward the rose bush nearby.

  Lady Bolger was clearly not amused. Her lips twisted in a frown, while her eyebrow went upward. Her hands were on her hips.

  “It’s true,” Elijah replied, holding back a laugh. Lady Bolger took her job as chaperone very seriously. She clearly knew that they had given her the slip. “These roses were put in by my mother. I thought they would look very well in the arrangements.”

  “And they would be an excellent nod toward your dear mother’s memory,” Diana added.

  “Quite right,” he agreed.

  Lady Bolger squinted at them, screwing up her lips. She nodded. “Come. We have found the perfect addition to the floral arrangements. These snapdragons over here.”

  “I prefer lavender,” Diana said.

  “My Lady, you must be serious. The ball is this evening. We cannot tarry.” Her aunt was speaking to them over her shoulder as she led the way.

  “I am. Lavender would look better.”

  “I have to agree with Lady Diana,” Elijah added. “Lavender would look perfect with the gardenias.”

  “You are a gentleman. You can have no opinion,” Lady Bolger said. “Ladies always have opinions about flowers.” They shared a look as Lady Bolger bustled off.

  “I’ll let the servants know to use lavender,” he whispered to her.

  “Thank you.” She smiled.

  “Lady Bolger missed her calling,” he murmured. “She should have been an army general.”

  “Or a prison warden,” Diana replied.

  Elijah was beaming despite himself. His mind was still on their kiss. Now that he had tasted her lips, he wanted more. He knew that they were going to have to get much better at slipping off to have a moment together. He thought, with pleasure, of the ball.

  There will be ample opportunity to go off unnoticed.

  * * *

  Already, Diana was tired of her aunt’s constant badgering. She wanted to be allowed to be in love with Elijah. She wanted lavender to be in with the gardenias. She wanted to not have to worry that her aunt was going to try to goad Eleonora into going out into society when she so clearly wasn’t herself anymore.

  And perhaps, never will be.

  “Have you seen the mill house?” Elijah asked her, jolting her from her thoughts. She glanced over at him. He jutted his chin in the direction of it.

  “No.” She looked toward where he was indicating. In the distance, there was a small stone house, a mill wheel attached. It was next to the river, which wound its way past Cambolton House, lazily. Just like a painting, it was surrounded by cattails. There was a family of ducks, making their way through the greenish-brown water.

  “You should,” he remarked. “Not only is barley beer one of Cambolton estate’s specialties, but would be a pleasant place to sneak off to.”

  “Then you should show me sometime.” She couldn’t help but hear the deeper tone come into her voice. The one which hinted that she would be more than pleased to be alone with him. She had always believed herself to be a proper lady, however, she was finding that she wasn’t.

  “I plan on it.” He gave her a wicked grin that set her heart racing.

  “Good,” she said. “I cannot bear being so near to you, yet unable to truly speak to you.”

  “We are never alone,” he agreed. “Your aunt makes sure of that.”

  “No. Though, they have good reason for it.”

  She loved how close he was, so warm and solid. Beneath her hand, the muscles of his arm were hard. His scent filled her nostrils. Up ahead of them, Aunt Clarabelle was ordering the servants about, as they gathered flowers for the ball.

  “What color will your gown be?” he asked.

  “Blush satin, why do you ask?”

  “I want to picture you in it,” he replied. “It will give me something to think of, until I see you again.”

  “You talk as if we’ll be apart for days and days when it will only be a few short hours.”

  “Hours seem like days when I’m not with you.”

  “To me, as well.”

  He always said the very right thing. What made it even better was how genuine he was. He meant it. Thoughts of him took up all of her waking moments, and she craved moments like these when they were standing side by side.

  “Perhaps, during the ball, when everyone else is busy,” she murmured. “We can sneak away.”

  “Indeed.”

  He placed his hand over hers. Their eyes met. She wanted nothing more than to lean in, and kiss him again. The kiss was still searing through her veins, causing her to almost feel intoxicated.

  “Lord Cambolton!” It was Aunt Clarabelle, again. “My Lord!” She was bustling toward them, waving a hand. Her eyes were squinted, her lips pursed.

  “You must come and see!” she ordered.

  “What is it, My Lady?”

  “You must see the snapdragons with the gardenia! I am sure that you will change your mind when you see!”

  As they turned the corner, Elijah’s housekeeper had an armload of snapdragons, clasped in between her hands. The flowers were a bright pink and yellow, almost garish beside the white of the gardenias.

  “On no account will you use the snapdragons,” Diana hissed. She was tired of always having to argue with her aunt. But Aunt Clarabelle was used to having her own way, in all things.

  “As you wish, My Lady.” He beamed at her. Their eyes met, and they laughed. She thought of later with excitement. Anything could happen. The delicious thought of being alone with Elijah sent tingles down her spine.

  Chapter 19

  The family was eating their luncheon, in the dining room at Lutterhall. After, Diana planned to take a nap before getting ready for the ball. She hoped that Mary had her gown pressed already. As she took a bite, she thought about all the things she needed to do yet.

  “Eleonora should be allowed to go to the ball at Cambolton,” Aunt Clarabelle declared. “You cannot leave her behind at home, while the rest of us are at the ball.”

  Diana looked up in surprise. Surely, her aunt was jesting. Eleonora was still so unwell. Although neither of them knew this, she had gotten upset when she had thought she recognized Elijah. What would happen if she was surrounded by a whole crowd of people? She glanced at her father. He was staring at his sister, in shock.

  “She is too unwell to be out in society,” her father stated. Having said his piece, he turned his eyes toward his plate, and speared a bite of meat.

  “She is well enough to attend,” Aunt Clarabelle insisted. “She must be allowed out among the ton, so that she can begin to look for a husband.”

  “She will not be able to marry at the current time,” her father said, his gaze on his plate. “She is an invalid, who rarely leaves home. Only a few short months ago, we didn’t even know if she was going to live. She’s in no state to go to a ball, Clarabelle.”

  “Brother—”

  “We aren’t even certain about her reputation,” he roared. “
The ton talks all of the time.” He returned his gaze to his plate.

  Diana was shocked. She hadn’t considered this angle. Though, her father certainly had. She had never heard anyone talking about Eleonora. She supposed they wouldn’t have said anything in front of her, though…perhaps her father had heard something.

  “You don’t know that for certain,” Aunt Clarabelle said. “She’s a beautiful lady, from a good family. Perhaps—"

  “It is because no one is certain,” her father stated. “No gentleman of the ton would take her as a wife. She has lost her mind. You cannot parade her about in front of the ton, and certainly not at Cambolton House.”

  “Excuse me,” Diana mumbled, getting up and then going out into the hallway. Tears were forming in her eyes. As soon as the door was closed, her aunt went on. Diana covered her mouth with her hand, as her tears slipped down her cheeks.

  She could still hear them, their voices echoing in the vast dining room of Lutterhall Manor.

  “What do you have against the Viscount of Cambolton?” Aunt Clarabelle asked her father.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. He seems harmless.”

  Diana knew that she shouldn’t be eavesdropping. But her legs were frozen where she stood. She couldn’t move.

  “I merely hoped that Diana would see the importance of making the most advantageous match possible,” her father went on. “She has clearly allowed herself to be led by her passion, for which I am sorely disappointed.”

  “She has followed her heart,” Aunt Clarabelle said. “If you don’t see that, then you are blind, brother.”

  “I was blind when Eleonora was sneaking about. I thought that there was nothing to worry about. I was wrong. I have learned from my mistake. I will not allow Diana to do the same.”

  Diana was surprised that her father didn’t trust her. She knew that Eleonora’s accident had caused him to tighten his already strict parenting style. Yet…She didn’t understand why he didn’t allow her to choose her husband for herself.

  “Then, do not drive her to it,” Aunt Clarabelle reasoned. “Allow her to wed Lord Cambolton. It will be good to have her so nearby to Lutterhall Manor.”

  “I am taking it under consideration.” Diana could hear the cutlery clinking against the plates.

  “And let me bring Eleonora to the ball,” Aunt Clarabelle urged. “I do not see the harm in allowing her. She remains so shut up here. Let her come. She spends all of her time with her lady’s maid. Surely being out among society would help her feel like her old self again.”

  “No. Absolutely not.” Her father’s voice was a sharp, yet firm.

  “Are you punishing her for her choices?” Aunt Clarabelle raised her own voice.

  There it was—that word. Punishment. Eleonora had used it herself. She had said that she was being punished. It struck at Diana’s heart.

  “She made her decisions. Their results were dire.” Her father’s words were cruel. Diana felt them, like a nail in a coffin lid, or a door being slammed shut.

  * * *

  Elijah walked through the hallways of Cambolton House. He was filled with pleasant anticipation for the evening. Nearly the entire ton in the surrounding countryside was going to be in attendance.

  With the help of Lady Albany, Lady Bolger, and Diana, everything had been planned and organized to perfection. Elijah was ready to enjoy himself. The entire household was bustling about, getting everything set up.

  The flower arrangements were being brought in to the ballroom by the housemaids. He looked at the flowers with joy—white roses, gardenia, and lavender, as per Diana’s wishes. Her taste was impeccable. There were white long-lasting candles set into the chandelier, ready to be lit.

  He walked through, seeing that the footmen were setting out the champagne flutes and cups beside the punch bowl. There would be other refreshments, brought out just before the guests began to arrive. Hanby was setting out the chairs for the musicians, in the corner.

  Everything was ready. Elijah stepped out and onto the terrace, from which he could see the gardens and the mill house. His mind turned, as it always did, to Diana.

  When he had told her that the hours seemed like days, he had been honest. He missed her, a deep yearning, as if he was missing the other half of his soul. He knew that it had not yet been the full month that they had agreed upon the night that they had first met.

  But he was so sure that she was falling in love with him. He could see it in her eyes. He had felt it when she had kissed him back, earlier in the garden. He already knew himself to be in love.

  Perhaps, I should ask her tonight at the ball.

  If she agreed, then, the very next day, he would go and ask the Earl of Lutterhall for her hand in marriage. He didn’t know if he could bear to wait another week.

  He recalled what Lord Albany had said. If he brought Diana, and then they both spoke to him, together—perhaps the Earl would see for himself. For, anyone who saw them together would be able to see their love for one another, just as Lord and Lady Albany had.

  Elijah felt light, having decided what he would do. They had already planned to sneak off, while everyone else was preoccupied. It would be the perfect time to ask her.

  He thought of the softness of her lips, her voluptuous figure. He wanted to be with her for the rest of his life. He had never been so sure of something before in his entire life.

  * * *

  Diana was dressed in her new pale-blush satin gown. It had been made especially for the ball at Cambolton House. It was an important night for her. Though he had been down in the mouth, her father had agreed that she should have a new gown.

  She loved the pale pink of it, the way that it brought out the roses in her cheeks. She had on her long, elbow-length white silk gloves. Mary had outdone herself on Diana’s hair, pulling it into a low chignon, with perfect ringlets framing her cheeks. She had a little golden heart locket on a chain around her neck.

  She glanced at her father. Both he and Aunt Clarabelle were looking out of the windows, not speaking with each other after their earlier disagreement. Eleonora had stayed home. Diana had, as she always did, stopped to check on her sister before she had gone. Eleonora liked to see what Diana was wearing.

  Sarah had seemed upset. When Diana had asked, she had said that she merely felt tired. Diana suspected that something had happened.

  “Father?” she asked.

  “Yes, Diana?” He didn’t look away from his window. The line of trees thinned, revealing Cambolton House. It had been done on purpose, she realized, so that the house appeared as if by magic. Torches lined the drive, lighting up the way for the carriages which were on their way to the front of the house. It was already crowded. All of the ton who lived locally were there.

  “Did you speak to Sarah?” she asked her father.

  “No. I have not yet gotten the chance to,” he replied, finally looking in her direction. “When I do, then you will know all that I have learned. Not to worry.”

  “Why would you speak to Eleonora’s lady’s maid? Is something the matter?” Aunt Clarabelle asked. The carriage came to a halt, and a footman stepped up to open the door.

  “Because she might know more about the night of Eleonora’s accident than she lets on,” Diana remarked.

  “Truly?” Aunt Clarabelle hissed. “Why has she not spoken up before?”

  Her father shrugged. “It may be so. Leave it to me, sister. I will get to the bottom of it.”

  “For certain, brother.”

  Once they were all out of the carriage, her father stopped her. “Diana, a word.”

  Aunt Clarabelle moved toward the line of guests, who were mingling beside the entrance. She was a mass of orange silk, with a white ostrich feather, waving like a flag atop her hair. Diana looked at her father, curiously.

  “It would be best if we didn’t speak of these things in front of your aunt,” he said. “After what she said earlier today, it’s become very clear to me that she doesn’t understand your sister�
�s condition or her current place in society.”

  “How are we going to fix it, Papa?” Diana asked. “For I truly don’t believe that Eleonora is ruined.” She hoped that that was the case. She hoped, too, that her sister was going to get better. That someday, she would be well enough to have a life of her own.

  “Nor do I,” he admitted. “I’m not sure. But believe me, I will find a way. When your sister is healed, we will figure out how to find her a proper husband.”

 

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