by Jo Goodman
"I give no credence to it."
Elizabeth stood. Without conscious thought, she approached the colonel's chair and knelt beside it. She stopped his immediate protest by placing both palms on his forearm. "Look at me now," she said quietly. It was both a directive and a plea. "Tell him to stop. Make him stop. I know it is within your influence to do so."
Blackwood held Elizabeth's eyes for a long moment. She would not look away; neither would she allow him to look in. "If I could do it, Elizabeth, why should I do it?"
"Because I have never asked any favor of you."
He raised an eyebrow. "I can bring a score of people in here within the hour who have never requested a boon from me. Shall I then grant whatever favor they ask?"
"But you care for me."
"I love you."
Elizabeth felt the instantaneous welling of tears. Her hands tightened on his arm. "Then will you not do this thing to please me?"
"No."
"Then to make me happy?"
His small smile was gentle. "Will it, Elizabeth? Will stopping North make you happy?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Elizabeth opened her mouth to answer and no sound came out. She closed it slowly, coming to her feet a moment later. Her height presented no advantage. The colonel's question had set her completely adrift. Knowing it was an inadequate response but having no other at the ready, Elizabeth said, "He is my husband."
"So he is."
"I want no harm to come to him."
"Harm? Do you imagine the Gentlemen Thief could make you a widow?"
"Yes... no. You are missing the point. It is only that he could be hurt. He is very brave, you know. Dedicated and loyal. He admires you greatly, and he will follow your lead because he believes you are in the right of things."
Blackwood raised one hand and rested his chin on his knuckles. "I know what North is and why he does what he does. I am much less certain of you, Elizabeth. By my reckoning it's been a little more than six years that I've been left to wonder at your character. You made a tour of the Continent then, remember? With Isabel and your father. I expected to hear so much of your adventure... your impressions... descriptions... all of it with your fresh eye. You wrote very little during that time. Even less later. Selden was born in Italy, was he not? I recall one correspondence about your fears for Isabel's health, your concern that she would not survive childbirth as your dear mother had not. You were so frightened that you would lose her. Rosemont was distant, wrestling with his own fears for his wife. You could not turn to him, and Isabel only reassured you that everything would be fine—a platitude you could not accept because you knew its falseness. You came to me then, dear Elizabeth, with what was in your heart. Can you not do the same now?"
Elizabeth actually took a step backward. Nothing at the beginning of the colonel's speech prepared her for the end. She stared at him, her hands falling to her sides as hurt was quickly suppressed by anger. "I have come to you, Colonel, and you have rejected me. As for what is in my heart, I showed it to you and you will not believe."
Blackwood frowned. "But you have shown me nothing."
"Then I have shown you everything." Without waiting for a reply, Elizabeth fled the room.
* * *
Liar. Elizabeth flung the word at herself and it stung. She had lied. Another lie. Another bead on a string of lies. Liar. There was no other word more accurately descriptive of what she had become. And now she was lying to herself. Then I have shown you everything. She had meant, of course, that she had nothing in her heart to share with anyone. In the moment it took to say the words Elizabeth knew she had been most sincere. It was only in the aftermath, in hearing them for the first time, that she finally understood something had changed and what it was was inside her.
Elizabeth did not return to the drawing room with North and the other guests, and nothing could induce her to face the colonel and admit her lie. She walked to the rear of the house, ignoring the disapproving clucks from the cook and her helper, and kept on walking until she was outside on the small back stoop.
It was too chilly to be out for long without a coat, yet Elizabeth had no proper sense of the elements. She leaned back against the cold brick and closed her eyes, unaware that the wind whipped her gown about her legs or that icy shards of rain lashed her bare arms.
Did it matter how or when it happened? she wondered. Or was the fact of it all that was important? She loved him. Loved North. She loved Brendan David Hampton, sixth Earl of Northam.
The revelation was not welcome. It did nothing to improve her mood or lighten her heart. Just the opposite was true, in fact. This knowledge was an immense burden to her and the source of her immediate panic. Her chest hurt and it was difficult to draw a full breath.
None of it was how she had experienced love the first time it came to her, but then circumstances had changed. She had changed. Elizabeth was afraid of the very thing she had once embraced so completely.
"Elizabeth?"
She heard the voice as if from a great distance. It swirled in her head, not quite making sense to her. She did not recognize her own name or the fact she was being spoken to. Without opening her eyes, Elizabeth tried to raise one hand to ward off the intrusion.
"Elizabeth!"
Her knees started to fold. The back of her gown was snagged by the bricks as she began to slide against them.
Darkness pressed on her from all sides. Falling into it seemed the only sensible thing to do.
* * *
North sat beside Elizabeth on the chaise longue in West's rear parlor. He tapped her cheeks lightly and pushed aside a damp lock of hair that had fallen across her forehead.
"Shall I send someone for a physician?" the colonel asked from the doorway.
"No. She has only fainted." North glanced at Blackwood. It would have been difficult to miss the colonel's concern. Every line in his face was deeply etched now and he looked considerably older than he had a single hour ago. "Will you leave us?" he asked. "And please tell no one. Elizabeth would not like to call so much attention to herself."
The colonel nodded and began to back out of the room. He stopped, a thought occurring to him. "Is she going to have a child?"
North kept his eyes on Elizabeth's pale face. He collected himself before he answered, not wanting to give voice to the bitterness that welled inside him. "No, sir," he said. "There is no need to concern yourself on that account." He felt Blackwood's pause and knew his reply had not been as neutral as he might have wished. Hardly aware he was holding his breath, he waited for the colonel to close the door. The quiet click prompted Northam to draw air again.
Brushing Elizabeth's chin lightly with his knuckles, North repeated her name. This time he felt the first stirrings of a response. A moment later her dark lashes fluttered open. The centers of her eyes were wide and unfocused. She did not seem to recognize him or have a sense of her own situation. Her brow puckered and the corners of her mouth turned down ever so slightly.
"You fainted," said North, withdrawing his hand from her face. "You were outside. Do you remember?"
Elizabeth's nod was uncertain. She had never fainted before, and the memory was not entirely clear.
"I am persuaded your private meeting with the colonel did not go as you would have liked."
North's words brought it all back to her and waves of embarrassment flushed her cheeks. She started to sit up, but North pressed her back by putting his hand on her shoulder. "Please," she said. "I want to get up."
"In a moment." He could feel her tension under his palm. "What happened? Why did you go outside?"
"It was as you said," she told him. "My meeting with the colonel did not go at all well." She saw that North was in no way appeased by her inadequate explanation. "He would not agree to ask you to stop pursuing the Gentleman Thief."
One of North's brows kicked up. "Really?"
"He would not admit that he had any influence in that regard."
"Ah. That s
ounds very much like him. He gives little away, our colonel."
Elizabeth was not certain she understood North's tone. There was an edge of unpleasant sarcasm that sharpened his words. His features, though, were without any hint of the same. "I should like to leave," she said.
Nodding, North released her shoulder. "Of course."
She sat up without help, but she felt North watching her closely. "I shall not faint again."
"The colonel asked if you were enceinte." He did not miss Elizabeth's sharp intake of air. "I assured him this was not the case."
Elizabeth turned to the opposite side of the chaise and stood. Her mouth was dry.
"It is not so, is it?" he asked.
She shook her head. Her hands remained at her sides and her fingertips twisted in the fabric of her gown. The fidgeting was necessary. It kept her from folding her hands protectively in front of her empty womb.
North stood also, his rise weary. He regarded Elizabeth's back for a moment. "Will you want to speak to West before we go or shall I make our farewell alone?"
Elizabeth had already started for the door. "I will go with you."
* * *
Once they were home in Merrifeld Square Elizabeth went immediately to her room. She requested a hot bath and within the hour she was sitting up to her shoulders in lavender-scented water. Her head rested at the back of the copper tub, supported by a folded cloth. Steam rising from the surface of the water curled her hair and made her skin glow in the lamplight. Outside rain continued to pelt the windows and draw a dark gray cloud over the late afternoon. As though pulling a comforting blanket over her, Elizabeth sank a fraction lower into the water.
North thought she had fallen asleep. He entered the room quietly when he saw she didn't stir and crossed to the bed. Loosening his stock, he lay back.
"When do you mean to send me away?"
He did not look in Elizabeth's direction. "If the weather is improved I thought tomorrow. Have you considered where you want to go?"
"If I have no choice in leaving, then—"
"You don't."
"Then I would prefer to go to Rosemont."
"As you wish."
Elizabeth opened her eyes and stared at the fingers of flame snapping and twisting in the fireplace. "It is not as I wish. Nothing is as I wish it. Please do not pretend it is otherwise."
North said nothing, but his head turned in her direction. He watched her rise from the bath slowly. Water slid in glowing rivulets across her arms and down her legs. She placed a hand at the small of her back as she stepped out of the tub. Her other hand was held away from her body to provide balance. There was just the slightest hint of awkwardness in the movement.
"Are you in pain?" he asked.
Elizabeth reached quickly for her robe and shrugged into it. Without answering him she limped into the dressing room. She stirred a packet of powder that Louise's physician had prescribed into a glass already filled with water.
"What are you doing?" North asked his question from the doorway. "What is that?"
Elizabeth's fingers curled around the glass and she raised it halfway to her mouth. "Something that will help me sleep."
North had an urge to knock it from her hand. What he did instead was close his fingers around her wrist. "Let me see it." He was vaguely surprised when she did not try to fling it in his face. He bent his head and smelled the preparation. "Who gave you this?"
"Lady Battenburn's physician."
"It has laudanum in it."
"I suppose it does."
North's grip on her wrist tightened so that her fingers loosened on the glass. He allowed that it might have been an unnecessary tactic. Elizabeth did not resist when he lifted it from her. He opened the window just enough to toss the contents, then he set the glass on the commode. "Come. I know something that will help you sleep." He extended his hand palm out but made no move to touch her.
Elizabeth looked first at his hand, then his face. He simply stood there, infinitely patient, giving so little away that she could not know his intentions. A week ago she would have thought he meant to make love to her and she would have gone to him willingly, even eagerly. She did not do so now.
"Do you trust me, Elizabeth?"
The words caused tears to well in her eyes. The question in Elizabeth's mind wasn't if she trusted him still, but whether she had ever trusted him. "I'm afraid," she whispered. "You can't know how afraid I am."
North raised his hand a fraction. His fingers moved almost imperceptibly, beckoning her. His cobalt blue eyes never left her face.
"Don't send me away," she said. Elizabeth blinked back tears. "I'll do anything you—" She reached out blindly for his hand and brought it to her breast. She cupped it against her heart as she took a step toward him. "Please. I can learn to trust you. I can—"
"Shh." North used his free arm to draw her to him. He could feel her heart pounding against his palm. She was damp and trembling and just moments shy of breaking down completely in front of him. "Shh. Come. Let me take you to bed." Her hair and skin held the fragrance of lavender. Her thin robe clung to her. He felt her warmth; her body heat outlined her slender frame. North gently removed his hand from between them and lifted her. He carried her to their bed and put her down on top of the thick comforter.
Sitting at her side, he tugged at her loose sash. Elizabeth's arms remained at her side. Her fingers tightened on the comforter as he opened the robe across her belly and breasts. Candlelight from the bedside table fell across her skin and she had an urge to cover herself.
As if sensing it, North told her to turn over. Elizabeth complied with what she thought might be misinterpreted as indecent haste. The truth was more complicated than that. She buried her face in a pillow to keep from revealing it and closed her eyes. He removed her robe. She heard the whisper of silk as it slipped off the edge of the bed.
North left her side for a moment and returned with a warm towel. He dried her shoulders and back and lifted each arm in turn to dry them as well. He used the towel to rub her buttocks and the back of her thighs. Tension tightened her muscles at first and then slowly seeped out of her as his touch remained impersonal and undemanding.
North left the bed again to put the towel aside and remove his shoes and jacket. Elizabeth's head now rested on its side, no longer elevated by the pillow but by the back of one hand. She watched him place his jacket over a chair and then unwind his cravat. He did so with an economy of motion that was a pleasure to watch. His hair gleamed in the firelight. That brightness was in perfect contrast to the shadow that overlay his features.
He came to the bed still dressed in his shirt and trousers.
His knee made a deep depression in the mattress as he climbed on and straddled her thighs.
Elizabeth's head shot up and she craned her neck to see him. "What are you—"
North leaned forward and pressed her head back. "Close your eyes. You want to sleep, do you not?"
She did. Not just for a few hours. But for days and days. She was not at all certain that she wanted to wake from wherever a sleep like that could take her. The thought of what she was really considering did not overly frighten her any longer. Was she braver, then, or more of a coward?
Elizabeth emitted a soft sigh as North's hands pressed gently on the small of her back and worked their way up her spine. His fingers kneaded her naked shoulders with tender but firm pressure and slowly traveled down the sides of her back. He repeated the path three more times, each time dipping a little lower so that he was finally pressing the heels of his hands into her hips and taut buttocks. He adjusted his position so that he was over her calves and then massaged the backs of her thighs. By the time North returned to her back, Elizabeth was sleeping deeply.
* * *
North rose from his chair as Elizabeth entered the dining room. "Forgive me," he said politely. "I did not anticipate that you would join me. You were still abed when I inquired of your maid not an hour ago."
Elizabeth
nodded. A servant held out a chair for her and she took her seat at the table. She had dressed with some care in spite of the speed with which it was accomplished, choosing a lavender gown with a wide neckline that she could accent with pearls. It seemed important to Elizabeth that she look her best this evening. It was a matter of pride.
A fine powder covered the shadows beneath her eyes and a touch of rouge put color in her cheeks and lips. She hoped that if he noticed her application of cosmetics he would say nothing of this small deceit. It paled in comparison to so many others.
North waited while Elizabeth was served consommé. He noticed she made a credible effort to pretend she was hungry at the beginning of the meal, but with each subsequent course her enthusiasm flagged. In the end she could only manage a few bites of the flaky steamed trout before she asked for her plate to be taken. Matters were not helped by the fact that he could think of little to say. Engaging her in conversation for its own sake seemed pointless, and the things he wanted to tell her were perhaps better left for another time.
For her part Elizabeth was satisfied with the silence. She had not come to dinner to sate any hunger save the one that demanded she spend these last hours in the company of her husband.
"Will you join me in a glass of wine?" North asked when the table was cleared.
She nodded. "Yes... I'd like that."
"In my study, then." He stood, waving back the servant who stepped forward to help Elizabeth from her chair. He assisted her himself, then escorted her on his arm to the study. "You are looking very fine this evening," he said. "Your sleep was restful, I collect."
"Indeed it was."
"Good." He released her arm and dismissed the butler, who had arrived to serve them. North poured them each a glass of Madeira. Elizabeth was standing in front of the fireplace and he carried hers to her. "You're cold?" he asked.
"A little." She took the glass. "This will warm me."
"Do you want a shawl?"
"No." Elizabeth sipped her wine. It sent immediate heat coursing through her veins. Her laugh was a trifle shaky. "You will not want to refill this for me, even if I ask."
North smiled. "Very well." He placed his glass on the mantel while he poked at the fire. Elizabeth thanked him for his thoughtfulness and then they fell silent again. It was not wholly uncomfortable. She slowly walked the perimeter of the study, taking note of North's books, while he remained standing at the fireplace, content to watch her.
