by Lisa Campell
Judith huffed. Her gentle, giving nature was rankled into rightful indignation by the way Eliza said Sebastian treated her. She had thought for a long time that Matthew was hard on his best friend. Now, however, she was beginning to see his reasoning.
Not that anything could be done. The wedding was further in the past every day, and Eliza couldn’t have left if she wanted to. Her desperate love for Sebastian was obvious in every word and action. Judith only wished the young marquess could reciprocate her devotion.
“Every marriage has growing pains,” she told Eliza now, adopting her usual attitude of extreme serenity. Sebastian knows what he picked for himself, and he always chooses carefully. He just needs some time to settle in.” She hoped the words sounded more convincing on her lips than in her brain. To her, it seemed more likely that Seb would simply keep rebelling against his marriage of convenience, the way he’d always intended.
Eliza, not convinced at all, stared at her hands. “I hope so.” Though she had kept it to herself, even from Judith, she hadn’t forgotten Sebastian’s bizarre suggestion that she live apart from him after the ton welcomed her back into the fold.
But the clock was ticking. Little by little, the high society of London was starting to turn its back on the scandal Lord Wyhurst had created. In the eyes of the ton, Lady Dain was a wife, a title which, along with the elevated rank of Sebastian’s peerage, did much to absolve her of past sins. Little by little, she was regaining her lost reputation.
Weeks ago, Eliza would have been overjoyed by her good fortune. Sebastian’s magnanimous gesture of marriage had indeed acted as her salvation from a lifetime of bitter exile. Still, she yearned for a real, loving romance, a partner by her side. And she did not want to find someone to take Sebastian’s place.
For his part, Sebastian seemed unbothered by her plight. In the wake of their smoldering kiss, the time he spent in the house with her lessened drastically. He spent more and more time at his gentlemen’s club, where she could not go. . With Sebastian roaming London freely until the wee hours of the morning, Eliza’s sense of depressing isolation came crashing back.
There was even a window in her lonely bedroom from which she gazed forlornly down upon the estate grounds as she awaited his return. It was both ridiculous and surreal that their union, sterile as it was, had dissolved so rapidly. Convenient spouses or not, she and Sebastian knew each other. If there was any gentleman she could hope to talk to aside from her brother, it was him.
Yet, he stayed away. Their interactions came to pass fewer and further between each day. For a while, Eliza did her best to take Judith’s advice to heart. She gave him space. She gave him time. She made herself trust that he would find the happy rhythm of their life together once again.
Eliza sat down at the table one evening. Her stomach growled. She had been waiting for Sebastian to arrive in the parlor. However, he still had not shown his face by the time that the dinner gong was rung.
The butler arrived, ordering the footmen to serve the first course, to Eliza’s surprise. Sebastian often arrived late to dinner, but she usually held the first course until he finally deigned to come down.
“Where is my husband?” she asked the butler. “We should wait until he arrives.”
“Lord Dain said that you should dine without him,” he said. “He won’t be home until late.”
“Oh,” she said, unsure of what to think. She sat there, while her supper was brought, eating very little. She found herself poking at the roast chicken on her plate. She had suffered through the soup course, and she found that she was disinterested in eating any more.
Eliza was stone sober, and the ache that was in her chest was unbearable. She couldn’t imagine eating alone every night. Her elusive husband had somehow slipped even further from her.
This is a hurt too far, she thought, setting down her fork with a clatter.
“My Lady?” the butler asked.
“Take it away. I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Are you well?”
“I’m going up to bed. Have my lady’s maid attend me as soon as she’s finished her supper,” she said, standing up. She wandered up to her bed chamber, where she burst into tears. She was certain that Sebastian had taken a lover.
It’s the only explanation, she thought. But why can a low-born woman have from my husband the one thing that he denies me?
It hurt her, far more than she would ever be able to admit. Eliza was filled with fury. She waited up for him, but he didn’t return that night, only confirming her suspicions. She was awake at first light when the front door of the estate finally opened to admit its wayward master. Eliza made certain that she was the very first thing Sebastian laid eyes on. He stopped at the mouth of the front hall, his face stricken. The fact that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he was in trouble granted Eliza a crumb of twisted satisfaction.
“Where do you go last night?” she asked. Her voice was level, deceptively calm, though she wasn’t sure how long it would last. Her boiling hurt lapped at the edge of its cauldron.
“I’ve told you where I was,” he said.
She pressed her lips down into a thin line. “The sun is coming up, Sebastian. I haven’t seen you since late yesterday afternoon.” In fact, it had been almost fourteen hours by her count.
He sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s a busy time. You and I both know a gentleman is possessed of certain obligations.”
“Then take me with you,” she protested. “There’s hardly any point to taking me as your wife if we can’t be seen together!”
“I doubt you’d like to be seen in gentleman’s clubs, playing cards with a host of other gentlemen,” Sebastian replied, a little curtly. “Perhaps you’d like to smoke cigars and talk business all night. That’s what I’m doing, Eliza. It’s not all fun and games. It’s politics.”
Most of his apologies worked on Eliza immediately, a truth of which she wasn’t especially proud. This time, she didn’t back down. “But what could you possibly be doing until dawn? I know you hate parties, Sebastian. You acted like it was a chore to come to mine.”
That was not quite accurate, and he was quick to pinpoint the exaggeration. “Be fair. I came to your ball as a willing attendee. We talked about it.” A trace of woundedness colored his words, flanked by the oft present annoyance and exasperation. It was the tone of voice he used whenever he thought she was being blatantly unreasonable.
She gave him a pointed look. “Was Matthew there?”
Sebastian furrowed his brow. “No.” He ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. “Let’s talk about this in eight hours, all right? I’m exhausted.” He moved toward the stairwell, but Eliza darted into his path. She fixed her hands on her hips, lifted her chin. He rolled his eyes. “Lord have mercy on me, Eliza. Do you really want to do this now?”
He did look tired. She noted with significant irritation that fatigue did nothing to blunt the clean edge of his handsomeness. If anything, the thick, unruly mane of hair, the terse look in his eyes, the tension in his jaw—it all added to his appeal. She wanted to grab him by his shirt and drag him into bed—make him understand exactly who his wife was.
“There’s someone else,” she declared. “There must be.”
Sebastian frowned. “What?” The puzzlement in his expression seemed genuine, but Eliza knew better than to buy it.
“You have a mistress. Don’t deny it, Seb. I know it in my heart.” She had been harboring this secret suspicion for some time, ever since he began stepping out in earnest on his own. He’d stopped displaying any interest in her whatsoever, as far as she was concerned. The possibility of flagrant infidelity was a hard pill to swallow. She felt she could no longer turn a blind eye.
“What are you talking about?” He stepped to the side in an attempt to get around her. Eliza blocked him. “There is no mistress, Eliza.” He gazed down at her.
“That’s not true!” she exclaimed, her frustrations finally erupting. “It can’t be true, and you can’t
expect me to be so stupid that I’ll believe it!” She balled her hands into defiant fists, holding them stiffly at her sides. “Admit it, Sebastian. You don’t want me to be your wife because you don’t need me to be.” She hadn’t given in to the tears yet, but they made her eyes gleam.
He was quiet for a long minute. Then he laughed. In the face of her fury, Sebastian laughed as if she’d just told a joke. “That’s preposterous. And if you go away and let me rest, I’ll wake up and be happy to tell you why.” He hardly ever spoke to her in such callous tones. That day, she was testing his patience to the limit.
“You won’t have a moment’s peace until you come clean to me, Sebastian Campden.” Eliza spoke the words like a vow, punctuating it with his name. Her eyes blazed into his, issuing a tacit challenge. Should he try to climb the stairs, she would fight him all the way.
“What’s wrong with you this morning?” he asked, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “It’s a little early to be slinging mud, isn’t it?”
“It’s a little early to be coming home for the first time in fifteen hours,” she retorted.
At last, Sebastian snapped. “I never promised you a thing, Eliza. We’ve been through this song and dance dozens of times by now, and you still won’t accept it. This marriage was to protect you. To give you a second chance. You and I are not in love.”
The blow struck her hard. She was no stranger to the words; she’d heard them, as he said, dozens of times. But it took all the resolve in her body to keep her from staggering backwards as though he had physically struck her.
“We could be in love, Seb,” she insisted. “Why can’t we try?” She longed to tell him how deeply her body yearned for his, how she wanted to commune in ways reserved for a wife and her husband in private.
Sebastian sighed. He grasped her gently by the shoulders, tilted her face up so that he could look deep into her eyes. “Listen to yourself, Eliza. We have discussed this over and over. You know exactly how this marriage is meant to work.”
“Yes!” She glared. “And I don’t care.”
Briefly, she wondered if he was about to slap her. Something inscrutable flickered deep in his gaze. Then he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her in against him. Their lips met in another overwhelmingly intense kiss. She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, clinging to him as she kissed him back, passionately. It was everything that she had wanted from him.
“I cannot stand you when you’ve lost your head like this,” he whispered, barely easing away. The beginnings of a smile curved his mouth. “Maybe if you’re kissed enough, you’ll get it back faster.” Without allowing her to respond, he followed through, pressing her gently against the wall. Her hands were trapped beneath his arms, and when she tried to free herself, he grabbed them.
“Sebastian.” His name left her breathlessly. “I—” At a loss for words but not for actions, she leaned up and made him kiss her a third time, as deeply as he would allow. The heat rampaged through her body. She trembled all over.
“You,” he said softly, “are incorrigible.”
She gave up a little cry of despair. “Seb!”
He chuckled, took her face in his hands, and tasted her full lips one last time. She melted at his touch. He lingered, perhaps longer than he meant to. The tension burned in the air around them. “Good night, Eliza.”
After that, he was gone up the stairs, having successfully neutralized her. She stared after him in a daze, her mind reeling, whole body sizzling. The searing passion he had just exhibited left her speechless and weak in the knees.
And more determined than ever to win his whole heart.
Chapter Ten
The floodgates were open. Sebastian had broken the one rule he set for himself, and that meant all bets going forward were off. At the end of the day—or the beginning, he supposed—his resolve had failed him. And as it turned out, his first instinct after reaching the end of his rope was to kiss her.
Now he couldn’t think of anything else. She had been so warm and inviting, and yet full to the brim of pent-up, restless energy. Eliza deserved a better outlet than he could give her, but the lady was too stubborn to seek her release elsewhere. Sebastian had never met a more endearing and infuriating female in his life.
He had given her the option of living separately. If she was so hurt by living with him, then she could live completely free of him.
But, no. Eliza insisted that she wanted him. And since he had given in once, it would be harder and harder to stand against her desires. He’d hoped she might become less vocal about it once the futility of her campaign set in. Clearly, he’d misjudged her.
Inside the Dain estate, the dynamics between its lord and lady began to shift. Begrudgingly, Sebastian made a few concessions. Though he was still one hundred percent unwilling to fully consummate their marriage, he could no longer deny the pull of attraction that kept them circling each other like moons.
Besides, he liked the way she wanted him, the way she responded to the lightest of touches. Things did not evolve immediately after the confrontation on the stairwell. He knew how to strategize. Initially, he did nothing more than fix the behavior that she found so vexing. No more late-night disappearing acts. No more conspicuously frigid distance.
Within a few days, they had returned more or less to the place they’d been before the very first kiss. The one remarkable difference was that the sparks flew as soon as they even glanced at each other. He could tell she recalled their embraces every time she looked at him. Her cheeks were permanently flushed.
Still, he made her wait, half expecting her to drop all pretenses and throw herself at him exactly the way she hadn’t done for the Earl of Wyhurst. Yet again, Eliza defied his expectations. She let Sebastian bear the onus of initiation, perhaps because he was the one resistant for so long. It was faintly unkind, he realized, to use that power against her.
Even if he intended to give her what she wanted—almost.
The upper halls of the estate were dark as Sebastian passed through on his way to pay Eliza the long-awaited visit. He could see the glowing orb of a full moon through the drapes drawn at the hall window, and it made him smile. Something to blame his lack of restraint on, a scapegoat for his vices. The moon made me do it.
It wasn’t really a vice if the lady was his wife. He didn’t have time to ponder long before she answered his gentle knock. The billowing bodice of her nightdress fell over the accents of her body in a way that allowed him to envision her perfectly without it.
“Seb?” she whispered into the dark. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”
He stepped across the threshold. “I’ve given what you said a lot of thought,” he told her honestly.
“Which part?” She had that mischievous gleam lighting her eyes. Reaching out, Seb traced the smooth line of her waist beneath her nightgown, down to the top of her thigh. A little shiver rippled through her body. Under the thin layer of cotton, her skin was quite obviously bare. “Oh,” she breathed. “That.”
Scant moments later, he lowered her onto the bed, the two of them locked in a heated embrace. She held him tightly, as if she wanted to become part of his body. The hem of her nightdress rode up her naked legs, exposing pure, soft flesh. She gasped at the warmth of his palm on her thigh.
“Tell me this is what you want,” he murmured in her ear.
Eliza wrapped her arms around his neck. “I already have.”
Neither the clothing nor the lady offered any resistance to Sebastian’s deft touch as it traveled across her body. She tracked his every move through eager, starving eyes. He marveled at his own ability to have made her wait so long for the satisfaction she craved.
There were other ways he could grant it to her. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck. The shoulders of her gown slipped down as easily as water over silk. Sebastian paused just to look at her and trace the contours of her supple curves.
Eliza whimpered softly. He kissed the swell of her breast, the delicate rise of her nipples
. One of her hands found its way into his hair.
“Please,” she whispered. Sebastian’s tongue found its way across her skin. The fingers buried in his hair tightened their grip. It was both rare and refreshing to see a lady embrace her desires as thoroughly as Eliza did. Her open honesty made him want to please her, even if they could not lie together.
She trembled under his lips and tongue, giggling as he trailed over the soft plain of her stomach. Holding her hand in his, Seb covered her slender legs with kisses. The nightdress was very nearly a thing of the past. With its modest skirt pushed out of the way, there was nothing between him and the very essence of Eliza’s femininity.
“Seb.” She caressed the side of his face, tilting his head up toward her.
