“Will, I said it wasn’t important. I was a virgin and now I am not.” Elizabeth tried to shrug casually while hiding her tears. Why did she suddenly want to cry?
She watched him button his shirt and retie his cravat. Her fingers itched to touch him again. This was bad. Very, very bad. She turned her back to him and asked, “Would you mind?”
His fingers tightened her stays and then moved to the small pearl buttons on her gown. “Elizabeth, I find it difficult to believe that you are so flippant about your virginity.”
“I am perfectly well, Will.”
Once he had finished, she glanced around the room to make sure things were in their correct places. Everything appeared normal to her. But she would never be able to look at that sofa again without remembering what they had done there.
“Elizabeth.”
She finally turned around and faced him. Her lover. Her heart skipped a beat. How could he look more handsome now than ever before? Was it just the concern for her etched upon his face?
“The item you were looking for last night”—he paused before continuing—“did it concern your father?”
While she hadn’t expected a return to this conversation, at least it had moved him away from the subject of her virginity. “Yes, Will.”
“Would you tell me what you were looking for? I might be able to help.”
There was no point in denying him. He knew the truth now anyway. And finding herself unable to resist the sincerity in his voice, she nodded.
“I found several of my mother’s journals. There was nothing in them about my father, but she made reference to a hidden diary. I’ve searched all the estates and just needed to recheck a few rooms here.”
“So you thought to inspect your parents’ bedroom while I was gone last night,” Will added.
“Yes,” she admitted. “It makes the most sense that the journal would be there. But sometimes I wonder if perhaps the duke found it and destroyed the evidence.” Elizabeth moved to the chair closest to the pianoforte. Somehow, the sofa just didn’t seem like the correct place for such a conversation.
“When your father, excuse me, the duke told you that he wasn’t your father, did he mention anything about evidence?” Will asked before moving to the pianoforte bench.
“No. That’s when I started to review my mother’s diaries. I thought she might have mentioned something in one of them.” Instead, all her mother left was this mess. Elizabeth had no idea which gentleman was her father. Every ball she attended, her gaze searched out some similarity between the older men and herself.
“You said you searched in all the rooms in this house, then?” Will ran his fingers up the keys of the pianoforte. The sound resonated in the room.
“As I reread the diaries, one entry made me think she might have hidden it in a secret compartment. So I checked the boys’ room a few days ago when you took the children to Hyde Park.”
Will smiled over at her and her heart jumped. “So that explains your disheveled appearance at the time.”
Elizabeth smiled back at him. “Yes. You came home earlier than I’d expected.”
“I would like to help you, Elizabeth,” Will offered.
“How could you help me?”
“I was thinking that maybe tonight instead of a history lesson, you and I could check my study. Perhaps your mother thought if she hid it under the duke’s nose, he would never find it.”
“I think it would be very helpful to have some assistance.”
And didn’t that sound like a witless thing to say.
This whole situation seemed entirely like an odd dream. They had made love, or was that sexual congress if you weren’t in love with the man? And she was not in love with Will. Period. Which meant what they just did was a simple case of lust.
Not love.
She had only known the man for a little over a week. That was hardly enough time to fall in love with a person. Desire was one thing, but love another thing completely.
So if she wasn’t in love with him, why was she sitting here staring at him like an adolescent girl? Why did she think his offer to help her find the diary one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for her?
Why did she want to take his hand and lead him back to his bedroom, lock the door, and stay in bed with him for the rest of the day?
Lust, not love.
She didn’t believe in love at first sight. And a week was first sight in her opinion.
“I believe the children have returned,” Will said, interrupting her musing. He rose from his seat and held his hand out to her. “Shall we see how the outing went?”
“Yes. I’ll be there in a moment. I need to put my hair back up.”
“Of course.” Will walked to the door and opened it before looking back at her. “Is two weeks enough time to plan our wedding?”
Will watched Elizabeth’s bemused expression and smiled inwardly. As much as she’d tried to be calm and emotionless about making love with him, he was certain it had upset her. It was only natural after a woman’s first time.
“I beg your pardon?” she finally managed to say.
“Our wedding? We need to set a date.”
“There is no date,” she said, striding toward him as she pinned her hair. “There is no wedding.”
“Indeed?”
“If you think I plan to marry a man who is still in love with another woman, you are mad!”
“So you have no issue having a child out of wedlock?” he asked.
She blinked as the reality of the situation finally seemed to hit her. “A child?” she whispered.
“Yes. That is how they are made.”
“I know that,” she cried. “But we most certainly did not make a child just then.”
Will understood her denial. “We won’t know for sure until—”
“A few days,” she cut him off. “We will know in a few days. I’m never late.”
“Very well, then. You will give me your answer within the week.”
“All right. But I will not marry you unless there is a child.” Elizabeth pushed past him and walked down the hallway. She must have made some excuse to the children because she didn’t even slow her pace as she passed them in the front hall.
“Will!”
The excited sound of the children made him smile. After spending the last two years taking care of them, he would have thought the idea of his own child less appealing. And yet, it warmed his heart to think about holding his little son or daughter. He had always thought it would be he and Abigail in a small farmhouse in Virginia.
But if Elizabeth agreed to marry him or truly was pregnant, all his dreams of leaving England would be for naught. She would never leave here, and he could not ask her to go with him.
“Will, were you and Elizabeth arguing?” Ellie walked up to him with a scowl on her face.
“No,” he answered.
“She certainly didn’t seem happy when she just ran up to her room.”
“We just finished our lesson on family history. That is all. Perhaps something upset her. If so, she didn’t tell me about it.” Will walked toward his study. “Now, I have work to do.”
He had nothing to do but wanted to be finished talking to his sister about Elizabeth. Sitting behind the desk, he looked at the picture of the former duke. Imposing seemed the best word to describe him. He must have been furious to discover his wife had been with someone else.
Will knew he would never stand for a wife like that. Although, if the late duchess had been anything like Elizabeth, she must have been in love with the man. He was certain Elizabeth was in love with him. He’d seen it in her eyes. And no matter what she said, she wasn’t the type of woman to be with a man without love being involved.
At the same time, he understood her reason for rejecting his proposal. Did he still love Abigail? The more he pondered the question, the firmer his resolve. Five years ago, he had loved her. Even two years ago. But after she rebuffed his last proposal, his love for her
started to die.
The passage over to England had given him plenty of time to think about their relationship. Against his father’s wishes, Will had offered to become an American for her after the war ended. Doing so would have relinquished his ties to England and the title. She had told him she couldn’t be responsible for him giving up something so noble.
Another excuse, he thought. She had been full of excuses for the past five years. And while maybe he didn’t love Elizabeth, he might come to love her.
A fact that Elizabeth might not accept. She struck him as the type of woman who would never marry a man who didn’t love her.
“What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Not quite sure. Maybe if I knew the problem I could assist you.”
Will turned his head toward the door where Somerton stood leaning against the frame. “Afternoon, Somerton. Did the footman forget to announce you?”
“He was busy cleaning up a mess the puppy left in the hall.”
Will’s mouth gaped. “What puppy?”
Somerton smirked. “The one I brought for the boys.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? A dog is the last thing I need.”
Somerton entered the room and sank into a chair. “I just assumed the children might need something to take their mind off Lady Elizabeth’s departure.”
“Elizabeth is not leaving.”
“Indeed,” Somerton said with his smirk turning into a grin. “You figured out a way to make her stay, then?”
“I apologized.” And then possibly got her with child, he thought.
“And yet, you don’t look pleased.” Somerton walked over to the bottle of whisky and poured two glasses. He handed one to Will and sat back down.
“Why are you here again?”
“The puppy.” Somerton seemed to be enjoying this far too much.
“And you can take it with you when you leave,” Will replied.
“Lord Somerton.”
Will turned and looked at Elizabeth. His breath left him, seeing her with the children surrounding her and Michael holding a small black-and-white puppy.
“Good afternoon, Lady Elizabeth.” Somerton rose and bowed to them.
“The children have something they would like to say.” She nudged Ethan, who nudged Michael and Robert.
“Thank you,” they chorused.
“You are welcome, children.” Somerton returned to his seat.
The children ran out of the room and the puppy started to bark. Elizabeth stayed behind.
“That was a generous gesture, my lord,” she said softly.
He watched as Somerton eyed Elizabeth carefully. A sensation akin to jealousy streaked through Will. From everything he had heard and seen, Somerton was a disreputable rake. Not that Will was any better making love to her on a sofa.
“Lady Elizabeth, is that a new gown?” Somerton asked.
“No, my lord.”
Somerton rubbed his chin. “Are you certain? You look different today.” He quickly added, “In a very good way.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened and moved to Will. “Thank you, my lord. I shall leave you both in peace.”
Somerton grinned. “Never understood why she remains a spinster.”
This time, Will had no doubt about the emotion swirling through him. “Perhaps she never found the right man.”
Somerton tilted his head. “Any decent man can make a woman fall in love with him. It just takes a little courting.” He drained his whisky glass and stood. “Good day, Kendal. Enjoy the puppy.”
Will rolled his eyes. “Good day, Somerton.”
“And I have decided to attend the countess’s party tomorrow night. It’s been a while since I danced with a lovely woman.”
Did he mean Elizabeth? The sneaky bastard left so quickly Will didn’t have time to question him.
Elizabeth waited patiently as her maid put the final touches on her coiffure. Susan had placed small violets throughout her hair to match the tones of Elizabeth’s silk dress. As she sat in front of the mirror, her thoughts returned to Will. She had been avoiding him since yesterday’s colossal mistake.
But she reasoned every woman was allowed one rather large error in her life. Will was hers.
What was wrong with her? Letting him make love to her in the music room in broad daylight!
She could have stopped him but she hadn’t. Nor had she wanted to stop him. In her heart, she knew she had been the aggressor, not him. She had kissed him, untied his cravat, and rubbed herself against him like a common trollop.
Yet, all day she’d wondered if the only reason she acquiesced was to make him stay in England. Could she really have been manipulating him? She clenched her hands into tight fists. That would make her a terrible person.
No other reason came to mind. She didn’t love him. His company was pleasant enough but what she felt wasn’t love. While he did seem to make her heart beat faster, lust was the answer. Her mother had warned her about that emotion.
Sometimes she wondered if lust was what had led her mother to her affair. Elizabeth hoped that it was love. She didn’t want to believe her mother would do such a thing just for passion.
Although, that was exactly what Elizabeth had done. Unless she really had thought making love with him would make him stay in England. She did not know which was worse, lust or manipulation.
“The violets are perfect!” Susan said as she stepped away.
Elizabeth looked in the mirror and agreed. “You do know how to make me look my best.” She turned to her maid and smiled. “Thank you.”
Susan bobbed a quick curtsy. “Enjoy your night, Lady Elizabeth.”
And Elizabeth decided she would enjoy tonight. Since the duke’s death, she had only attended a few balls. She missed the excitement of a party, the sense that something wonderful might happen.
She walked to the stairs and stopped. Looking down, she saw Will and her breath caught. He wore the dark brown jacket she’d secretly told his valet to suggest. The color looked magnificent on him and highlighted his hair.
As she walked down the steps, she gripped the rail tightly, hoping she could manage the stairs while staring at him. At the sound of her footfalls, he turned.
His full lips slowly lifted upward into an appreciative smile. He held out his hand to her as she reached the bottom tread.
“Good evening, Elizabeth.”
“Good evening, Will,” her voice sounded breathy to her ears.
Without a doubt, the most talked about man at the ball would be Will. As he held his arm for her, she realized she hadn’t completed certain aspects of his lessons. They must discuss this now.
“Will,” she started as she entered the carriage.
“Yes, darling.”
“Do not call me that again,” she snapped. “We must talk about a few things before we arrive.”
Will sat back against the squab and sighed. “Now what?”
“First, I, along with everyone else at the ball, will call you Kendal or Your Grace. Do not for any reason allow someone to call you Will. I am to be referred to as Lady Elizabeth.”
“Yes, dear.”
She could just make out the humor in his voice. The dratted man was taunting her. “On to the dances,” she said and paused. “You must dance.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
“Stop that!” She breathed in the scent of his tangy soap and sighed. “You must not dance more than twice with any lady.”
“Why not?”
“It shows you favor that lady. She will get ideas, and so will her mother. You are a young unmarried duke. Everyone will want you to dance with their daughters.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “And if I don’t wish to dance with them?”
“You really should with a few. But don’t leave the ballroom with any of them.” Dreadful thoughts of young ladies attempting to compromise themselves with him crossed her mind. “Some of the ladies will try to get you into a position where you both will
be seen in an unsavory light.”
“Why exactly would I want to be alone with any of these women?”
Her mouth opened then shut. She looked over at him and saw the slight grin on his face. “You might have urges,” she said.
“I might at that.” His smile widened and he leaned forward. “Then again, I would much prefer another talk in the music room.”
Elizabeth stiffened. “That will not happen again.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that.”
They rolled to a stop, effectively halting their conversation before she could give him a good set-down. He jumped down and held out his hand to her. She took his hand and walked toward the door with him.
She hoped she hadn’t forgotten to warn him about anything. Mentally she ticked off the items: titles, determined mamas, determined young ladies, number of dances, and…? There was something else.
The widows! They were the worst of the lot. She paused in her step, making him stop.
“Yes?”
“The widows,” she said.
“Excuse me?” Will asked, looking down at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“They will proposition you just so they can say they slept with you,” she whispered.
“Indeed?” he replied with a slow grin lifting his lips. “I might enjoy this ball after all.” He gave her a little tug and led her into the countess’s home.
The liveried footmen held open the doors to them as they entered the hallway. A thrill of excitement shot through her as they walked toward the ballroom at the back of the house. The last ball she’d attended, she had ended up taking Jennette home due to an incident.
They skirted the dance floor, still arm in arm, and made their way to Lady Cantwell. The eccentric old woman sat in a purple velvet chair surrounded by her ancient friends.
“My dear friends, the new guard is approaching,” Lady Cantwell announced with a cackle.
“’Bout time,” replied Lady Shipley. “I’m getting tired of the social scene. Let the younger crowd have it.”
“Hush, Roberta,” Lady Cantwell reprimanded, and then glanced up at Will. “William Atherton, the Duke of Kendal.”
Only the cantankerous Lady Cantwell could get away with calling the newest duke by his Christian name. Elizabeth watched the interplay between them with interest.
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