Now the tears could not be held at bay. They slid over her cheeks, clogging her throat. Elizabeth could hardly speak, so she reached for the glove again and quickly tugged it back on, hoping to hide her trembling fingers. She rose and drew in a shuddering breath. When she wiped her cheeks, more tears replaced the others in a second.
“This conversation has caused me to lose my appetite,” she stated as strongly as she could even though her lip quivered with the force of her tears. “I will be in my bedchamber for the remainder of the day.”
She remembered a time when she’d once pinched William in anger. She’d been nothing but a child then, taken by her hot-headed nature, and William had responded in kind. That day had ended with the two of them refusing to speak to the other, stubbornly denying that either one of them had been in the wrong. Elizabeth couldn’t recall what their argument had been about, nor could she remembered how they’d made up. In this moment, the only thing that stood out to her was how different she’d been back then, before the scars riddling her body had reduced her to a withdrawn and pitiful mess.
He sees me as nothing but a weak shell of the girl he once knew. No wonder he treats me like this. No wonder he no longer wants anything to do with me.
She moved to leave but William’s hand clamped around her wrist, holding her there. Elizabeth didn’t dare to turn around. She bit her lip to hold back her sobs.
“Beth, I…” he began but he didn’t finish. Though she waited, hope filling her chest, he didn’t say any of the words she’d hoped that he would say.
So, without looking back at him, Elizabeth pulled her wrist free from his grip and left the dining room. It took all her willpower not to fall to her knees in her tears, managing to make it back to her bedchamber despite her blurry vision. And the moment the door was closed behind her, Elizabeth threw herself against the bed and cried.
Chapter 8
William watched Elizabeth go with every fiber of his being wanting to go after her. But his feet remained leaden, his body rooted to the chair. He couldn’t bring himself to follow her, as if he had no right to.
And he didn’t. Conflicting emotions rose within him at the story she’d told him. Anger, hatred, and regret. All those feelings were directed at himself.
With a harsh sigh, he leaned back and rubbed his hands over his face, as if that would rid his mind of her scarred knuckles. The sight had broken him into a million pieces and William was still trying to figure out how to put himself back together. He stared at the door she’d left through, willing her to come back so that he could fix it. He didn’t want to ask himself why he felt the need to fix it. He didn’t want to think about what this meant for his peaceful life without the weight of his past. All he knew was that he couldn’t live with knowing he’d made her cry.
William had known all about her incident. Five years ago, those rumors had run rampant throughout London and even though William had been away at the time, he’d heard about it himself. His stepmother, the Duchess of Brandon, had sent him a letter when he’d been spending some time in Africa and she’d told him all about the latest gossip of the ton. She’d written at length about the attack on Lord Gillet’s daughter.
Back then, William’s body had gone cold when he’d read the news. Fresh feelings had rose within him with such ferocity that it was all he could do not to leave Africa on the earliest ship back to London. But he’d remained where he was, tucking those feelings away to continue his studies of the cotton trade. He’d never considered that she might have fought back. He hadn’t thought of the fact that she might not have been unscathed.
William shot to his feet, stalking out of the room. He broke into a light jog as he rushed through the hallway and headed up the grand staircase for Elizabeth’s bedchamber. When he finally made it to the door, he could hear her sobbing on the other side. He gritted his teeth and knocked.
The sobs ceased. William waited a beat before he said, “Beth, open the door.”
There was utter silence on the other end. For a few seconds, William was afraid she would ignore him entirely. He was considering simply ignoring her silence and going in nonetheless, but then the door opened.
Her tiny frame seemed even smaller, somehow. Even though her eyes were rimmed red, Elizabeth looked up at him unabashedly. No, she was glaring, and she was gripping the door handle as if she was trying to keep from socking him in the jaw. She’d done so once before when they were much younger, much to the dismay of her tutor.
William swallowed, realizing suddenly that he didn’t know what he planned on saying. “May I come in?” he tried after a moment.
Her eyes narrowed slightly but she stepped to the side, allowing him in. Even though it was his manor, and Elizabeth had only been here for two days, it felt a bit out of place, like he was an intruder.
Elizabeth kept the door open. She faced him, clasping her hands behind her. “Have you come to say more hurtful things?”
“I…” Now it was his turn to falter on his words, a feat that was not common for him. “I would like to apologize.”
Elizabeth tilted her head to the side. “For what, exactly?”
“I should not have said what I said,” he explained. “I have been rather rude to you ever since I brought you here, even though I have been making no genuine moves to make you leave.”
“I see.”
William’s brow twitched. “Is that all you have to say in response?”
“I am considering whether I should accept your apology or not,” she stated with a simple shrug.
William sighed. “I don’t have time for this, Beth.”
“Well then, your apology is not accepted. When you do have time for this, perhaps I shall consider this once more.” She gestured to the door. “You may leave. I would like to be alone.”
William stubbornly held his ground. He was smart enough to know that this would bother him relentlessly for the rest of the day if he did not rid himself of his uneasy feeling quickly. “I am unsure what else I can say for you to see my sincerity,” he explained. “I have allowed you to remain here, have I not? I have even bought gowns for you, so I simply cannot understand why you are so upset with me.”
Now it was Elizabeth’s turn to sigh, her shoulders sagging. “Yes, it is quite a lovely gown. I must thank you for that. And though you have hurt my feelings, I do not intend to leave here until I have received the truth of that day.”
“There are boundaries you cannot cross with me, Beth.”
“And I have every intention of trying nonetheless.”’
He stared at her. Elizabeth stared back. Even with red-rimmed eyes, she looked less like the apprehensive lady he’d found on simple chance and was more like the dominant girl he’d known of the past.
“It appears we have reached an impasse,” William pointed out.
Elizabeth only shrugged again. “I suppose it would not be the first time, nor do I think it will be the last.”
True. We clashed many times in the past.
The memory of their previous arguments brought a smile to his lips. Elizabeth, as if she was thinking about the very same thing, smiled slightly as well.
For a moment, they simply stood there, smiling at each other, the argument that had been rising between them dissipating into nothing. Taken by the curves of her rosy lips, by the light that sprang into her eyes, and the gentle splash of freckles that always grew darker during the summer, William said, “I fear you will be the death of me, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth’s smile slowly slipped away. Confusion darkened her eyes and William realized suddenly that he shouldn’t have said those words. But he was falling under a spell she had cast, growing an unreasonable need to bring laughter to her lips.
“What do you mean?” she murmured, as if she was afraid of his answer.
William took a step towards her. Elizabeth staggered back. There was no fear in her eyes as she stared at him. If anything, it felt as if she wanted him to get closer. And when he did, she only stepped
back once again until her back hit the wall behind her.
He knew he should step back. He knew he was losing himself in her eyes, and if he wasn’t careful, he would want to lose himself in the rest of her soon enough. But even though the words were echoing in his mind, he leaned closer to her nonetheless. Her gentle lavender scent wrapped around him and drove whatever sane thoughts he had left right out of his mind. William braced a hand on the wall behind her, dipping his gaze to her lips.
“William—”
He shook his head, cutting her off. “Just one moment.”
He knew very well how confusing he might seem to her. Hell, he couldn’t even settle his own emotions. Chasing her away with his words and then bringing her closer with his actions was bound to cause chaos in both of them. For the life of him, he didn’t know how to stop it.
Elizabeth fell silent. She swallowed, her eyes flickering all over, not knowing where to rest. William dragged his gaze away from her enticing lips down to her bosom. It heaved under her labored breathing, each rise and fall spreading an unquenchable need throughout William that he could hardly contain. It was all he could do not to cup her by the chin and get a taste of her.
I shouldn’t have allowed her to stay here. Had I sent her back to her home, I would not be faced with such fierce temptation, so much so that I can hardly think straight.
With every bit of willpower he had left, he stepped away, putting considerable distance between them. Elizabeth’s body sagged, as if she’d just let out a breath she’d been holding in.
“I will be gone for the rest of the day,” he told her, though he couldn’t fathom why he was explaining such a thing. “I am not likely to return until tomorrow evening.”
“Evening?” she gasped. “But that is so far from now.”
He tried not to smile at her obvious displeasure. “It is a large manor. You’ll find a library and even an art room if you are bored. Or you could always return home so that you are not subjected to one place like you are here.”
She scowled ever so slightly at that. “You know that I will not even consider that option. I will simply wait for you.”
“Very well. It matters not to me. You may do whatever you wish with your time here, while I return to my study.”
William made his way to the door. Like he’d done to her in the dining room, Elizabeth stopped him by grabbing his wrist. He looked down at their contact and she swiftly pulled away. “I accept your apology,” Elizabeth blurted out. His heart skipped a beat and he only stood there, watching her trying to find the rest of her words. “I know your heart, and I know very well that you are not very adept at speaking your atonements. But I felt your sincerity and I accept it.”
William hadn’t realized just how much he’d been hoping to hear those words until she said them. Elizabeth stepped back with a small smile, looking rather pleased with herself. “I hope all goes well with your trip. Please, be safe.”
He nodded, not bothering to say anything. But when he left the room, he wore another smile. And he knew very well that her last words would remain with him throughout the rest of the day.
William was right; Elizabeth would have no reason to be bored. The manor was quite large, nearly the size of the country estate Elizabeth and her parents would stay at a for a few weeks when she was younger. While she went on a tour, with Minnie as her lead, Elizabeth came upon the grand library William had spoken about, the art room filled with covered easels and dried watercolor paint, a music room that boasted pianofortes, a harpsichord, and many others. Continuing on, Elizabeth came upon smaller parlors than the one located on the first floor, a myriad of empty bedchambers, and even an empty room that Minnie had told her the Duke dedicated to his personal fencing practice.
By the time Elizabeth was finished, she was left utterly taken aback by all she’d seen. The sheer wealth this manor boasted could be seen in the many expensive pieces she’d seen, the extravagant vases, the exorbitant furniture. If the size of the manor had not given it away, the decoration itself would do so. And with all she’d seen, only one question ran through her mind: had the deceased Duke of Brandon truly squandered his money like she’d heard?
“Minnie,” she called wearily, resting in the drawing room. She decided to sit by the window, enjoying the wind.
Minnie stood at attention at the call of her name. “Yes, My Lady?”
“I would like to have some tea, please,” Elizabeth said kindly. She smiled at the maid and was given one in return, though it was tentative.
“As you wish, My Lady,” Minnie said and turned towards the door.
“Oh, and Minnie?” Elizabeth called, watching as Minnie faced her again with a question in her eyes. “Could you fetch Harold for me?”
“Yes, My Lady.” Minnie nodded and, soon after, left the room.
Alone, Elizabeth’s thoughts grew louder. She missed William, despite all that had happened between them. The feeling panged her chest with more force than she’d expected and she looked at the empty chair across from her, remembering when he’d sat there just the morning before.
As he’d said, he’d left shortly after leaving her bedchamber. The thought that she would not be able to see him again until tomorrow’s evening bothered her, but she’d waited seven years to see him again. A day would go by in a blink of an eye, even though she wished desperately that he was with her right now.
Elizabeth sighed softly. This was certainly not how she’d envisioned seeing him again. When their paths finally crossed again after so long, Elizabeth thought he would be as happy to see her as she was to see him. Or, if anything, open to letting her into his life again. Instead, she’d been met with wall after wall, and though she’d managed to skirt around them so far, she didn’t know how much longer his patience would last. He wanted nothing to do with her, nothing to do with all that he’d left behind. And when he was bored of her, she was afraid he would cast her aside. Or leave like he’d done last time.
If he dares to do such a thing, I will not forgive him.
Determination rose within her once more at the thought. She couldn’t let him get away, not without at least an explanation. She deserved that much.
The memory of his heated gaze, resting solely on her lips, flashed through her mind and Elizabeth flushed. She held a hand to her chest, feeling her racing heart under her fingertips. She’d thought he might kiss her in that moment. It had certainly looked as if he wanted to.
So why hadn’t he?
“Lady Elizabeth?”
Jumping, Elizabeth swiveled to see Harold stepping two steps behind her, looking curiously at her. His eyes seemed to be trained on her face this time.
“Harold!” she gasped. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Only a few moments. Is something the matter, My Lady?” he asked in an effortlessly calm voice. “You appeared to be very lost in thought just now.”
“I-it’s nothing,” she responded quickly, a bit flustered to be caught thinking about William like that. “But thank you for coming so quickly.”
Harold came to stand before her, waiting.
Elizabeth licked her lips. She didn’t know what sort of man Harold was, but butlers were usually loyal to their masters. And Harold seemed to be a very upright man. She had to choose her words carefully.
“Has His Grace been treating you well since you’ve begun working here?” she asked, hoping to ease him into the conversation.
Harold nodded. “Very well, My Lady.”
“I see. And what of the former Duke? Had he treated you well, also?”
“Yes, My Lady,” Harold said, his expression unmoving.
Elizabeth licked her lips. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “I’d heard a few things about the former Duke,” she explained. “And from what I’d heard, I’d think that he might have had an…unusual personality.”
“Perhaps you could say so,” Harold responded.
Elizabeth perked up. “Is that so? In what way?”
; “You will have to ask His Grace about that matter.”
Elizabeth’s excitement dissipated instantly. “Are you not allowed to speak about the former Duke?”
“It is not that we aren’t allowed, My Lady,” Harold stated. “But I believe that is a topic His Grace should undertake with you himself.”
“Ah, I see. You are rather dedicated to William, aren’t you?”
“Very much so, My Lady. I am afraid, whatever questions you have regarding what has happened in this household, are not matters I will speak about.”
What Desire Demands, My Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 10
