Elizabeth remained silent, but her eyes were conflicted. Deep in those brandy depths, longing glittered. At least hope remained.
And he’d fight to bring that chance, however slim, to the surface.
“I’ll escort the lady back to the ballroom, Devon,” Rockingham said, his voice ringing with authority. “Besides, there’s enough gossip and innuendo swirling around your name that you don’t need more by lingering here.” He glanced toward the still-open doorway and then back to Rafe with an unspoken command in his expression. “Elizabeth knows who she can trust.”
Rafe ignored the slight. He kept his focus on her and made certain he held her gaze. “We’re not done, Lizzy.” With nothing more to say and no chance of doing anything else while the marquess stood there, he left the room.
One thing remained abundantly clear. It was time to court the lady properly, as he should have done all along. He would show her that he wasn’t the monster she thought, and perhaps that would be the key to winning her heart.
Curse be damned.
CHAPTER SIX
December 7, 1815
“Regarding Donovan’s ball, you have several fittings in the next few days to make certain your gown will be up to snuff. I’m certain you wish to look your best on the chance the two of you decide to go ahead and break the curse that night,” Elizabeth said as she made a few notes in her leather folio. As was per usual each afternoon, she went over the events of the day with the duchess. “It will be quite memorable. Also, you’ll need to finalize details and the menu for the staff’s Christmas dinner, as well as the family dinner and any festivities therein.”
When she didn’t receive an answer, she glanced at her sister-in-law, Alice, who sat demurely at her desk with her chin in her hand, her face toward the window where the afternoon sun streamed in. “Alice, are you listening to me?” She’d been going over the duchess’ schedule for the past fifteen minutes, and had just realized Alice hadn’t said anything for several moments.
“I apologize.” The duchess looked her way. “I suppose I was woolgathering.”
“Indeed.” Elizabeth closed her folio. “We can revisit this later. It is of no consequence now.” Then she looked at her sister-in-law. “Are you feeling quite well?”
“I’m fine.” Alice waved a hand and stood from the desk in a rustle of mauve silk. “Perhaps still tired from the trip or from everything that needs attention.” When she smiled, it was a wan affair. “I didn’t realize how much work the Christmastide season entails.”
“It is rather taxing, but once preparations are underway and the decorations are up, the house will transform into a wonderland.” Elizabeth gained her feet as well. She held her folio against her chest as she peered closer at the other woman. Pale face, faint dark smudges beneath her eyes, lines of concern on her brow. Mayhap it was exhaustion, as she’d said. “You do appear overly tired. I suggest either putting your feet up with a good book or moving upstairs and having a lie down.”
“Sound advice.” Alice crossed the room, where she promptly sank onto a settee and her eyes took on a faraway look, a testament to how well she’d come to know the layout of the London townhouse and her sun room in particular since her marriage. She navigated the building without an escort most days. “Donovan’s business has taken him away from the house for long hours ever since we returned to London.” A dreamy smile curved her lips. “I miss him.”
“Understandable.” Elizabeth’s chest tightened. As much as she was happy that her brother had met the love of his life, their blatant affection for each other sometimes grated. “I have hardly had time to speak with him myself.” And she wouldn’t seek him out if he meant to antagonize her again.
Finally, Alice focused on her with her old clarity. “He told me about your last conversation.”
“I assumed that he did.” They were married, after all, and they would have talked.
“Donovan was pleased when he became aware of Lord Rockingham’s interest in you,” Alice continued with a sweet smile. “He wishes you to make a brilliant match, and it seems you are well on your way, if the flowers he has delivered after each time he sees you are any indication.” The most recent one arrived earlier that morning, a brilliant bouquet of exotic blooms in the colors of sunset.
“He has barely started calling upon me, so it’s early days yet.” Even as tiny tremors of excitement climbed her spine, worry swept in to tamp the reaction.
“Yet you aren’t thrilled with the situation,” Alice continued with a knowing glint in her eyes.
Elizabeth shrugged and took a seat beside her sister-in-law. “It’s confusing, at best, especially when…” Well, it didn’t matter in light of her brother’s high-handed dictate.
“Especially when the marquess isn’t the man you wish would call,” Alice finished for her. She grabbed one of her hands and squeezed. Kindness reflected in her face, and even though the duchess met her gaze, she wasn’t able to see due to her particular sight impairment. “Do you want my advice?”
“Not if it will be the same as my brother’s,” she responded without thinking, and then just as quickly gasped. “I mean—”
Alice laughed. “Plain speaking is a good trait to have. Even when pitted against a duke or a duchess.” Again, she squeezed Elizabeth’s fingers with a smile. “But truly, if Rogue is the man who holds your heart, do not settle for anyone else, despite the wishes of the duke.”
“Oh, I don’t know if Rafe holds my heart. Our history is rather… convoluted, at best. But I… I cannot seem to purge him from my thoughts.” Elizabeth glanced into Alice’s sparkling gray eyes, but she didn’t find the answers she sought. “We are certainly not in love.” This she knew beyond a doubt. “In fact, he—”
“Frightens you,” Alice said on a whisper. When Elizabeth nodded, the duchess continued. “I believe that you should pursue him enough—or let him do the same to you—until you can quell the confusion or at least set him free. Otherwise, you will always regret it, especially if you find yourself married to another.”
“I’m not sure finding myself close to Rafe once more is a good idea. We are like oil and water,” Elizabeth protested, but her cheeks heated.
“Sometimes that is also a good thing.” Alice patted her hand. “Life is entirely too short for doubt, so if the earl wishes to court you, please promise me—promise yourself—that you will let him.”
“But I—”
Alice released her hand. “He terrifies you. I can hear it in your voice.” They remained quiet for a few seconds. “Donovan used to make me feel the same way, until I took myself in hand and decided to understand his wolfish side better. It made all the difference.” She sighed. “These men of ours, these Lords of the Night, they require different handling than others.”
“This is true.” Confusion might still hold her in its grip, but the tightness in Elizabeth’s chest lessened. Did she wish to understand Rafe and embrace his cursed side as well?
“Don’t cheat yourself out of happiness because you’re afraid. I almost did that. So did Donovan.” Alice’s expression sobered as if she’d fallen into memories. Elizabeth well remembered those terrible days a couple of months ago when she feared the ducal marriage would fall apart.
“It is not only my fear of him,” Elizabeth whispered. “I… what I want from him scares me as well.”
A knowing smile curved the duchess’ lips. “You speak about the physical relationship you once had with him.”
“Yes.” She nodded as warmth slapped her cheeks. “It’s scandalous to think such things, to want such things, and from him, but memories of that night won’t leave me alone. He was…” Oh, how embarrassing to admit this to her sister-in-law. “…forceful and so… different than he is in polite society. I rather liked it.” Did it make her sound like a wanton woman, little better than the demi-monde?
Alice chuckled. “There is nothing wrong with you, my dear. And do not think such things make you improper. Intimacy is quite healthy, and at times
, a lady simply doesn’t wish for her partner to act the gentleman between the sheets.”
“Oh, please, we must stop talking about it.” It was the height of embarrassing. Elizabeth temporarily buried her face in her hands. “And do not tell my brother.” She couldn’t bear it if Donovan knew of her secret craving.
“Your confession is my knowledge alone.” Alice continued to grin. “If after making an effort with Rogue and nothing comes from it, then by all means, actively pursue the marquess. Only you can decide which man will make your soul fly free.”
“Thank you.” Elizabeth leaned close and kissed her sister-in-law on the cheek. “I shall take your words to heart.” She stood. “Do you wish to go over the remainder of your schedule?”
“No.” Alice shook her head. “In fact, later this afternoon, I am interviewing a young woman who I hope will slip into the role of my assistant and thereby releasing you from your self-appointed role of my secretary.”
Elizabeth sucked in a breath. “You needn’t do that.” Her heartbeat kicked up, for without working with the duchess, what would she do with her time? The little imp in her head suggested flirting with the two men who’d shown an interest in her, but she promptly shut that little imp into a box and shoved that box to the farthest recesses of her mind.
“Pish posh.” Alice waved a hand. “I have a feeling once you find a way out of this current morass, you will no longer have time for me. One of those men will occupy your full attention.” She winked. “Have an enjoyable day.”
Later that afternoon, the butler, Griggs, discreetly cleared his throat at the doorway of the family parlor where Elizabeth sat lost in an adventure novel.
“The Earl of Devon has arrived, my lady,” he said, his tone conveying nothing of his feelings on the subject.
Tingles of excitement buzzed up her spine, but she refused to show a reaction. “Tell him that Donovan is still out and I do not know when the duke will return,” she said, not glancing up from the pages of her book. Really, Griggs should already know that.
“You misunderstand, my lady. The earl is here to see you.”
“I beg your pardon?” Elizabeth jerked her head up and stared at the middle-aged man in the crisp navy and gold livery. Her book slipped from her lap to land at her feet with a faint thump. Not to mention, these were daylight hours, not that the overcast skies showed the sun all that much, but Rafe never ventured out before twilight—much.
“The Earl of Devon has specifically requested to see you,” the butler repeated, his expression as impassive as the inflections in his voice.
“Why the devil would he do that?” she asked as she uncurled herself and then stood, her book forgotten in the sudden panic that gripped her insides.
The butler rolled his eyes. “Perhaps you should meet him and solve the mystery, my lady.” His droll tone caused her to snicker.
“You’re right.” Even if the thought of seeing Rafe at all after her poor behavior the other night sent tremors of guilt and fear through her belly. “Where is he?”
“The Gold Parlor, my lady. I did not offer him tea, for I didn’t know if he would be given the opportunity to stay… with your brother still out.”
She nodded. “I’m sure the earl will continue his errands once I speak with him.” There was no other reason for him to linger. “That will be all, Griggs.”
“Very good.” Once the butler exited the room, Elizabeth retrieved her fallen book and then laid the volume on a rose-inlaid table. Her hand shook. What would she say to Rafe that hadn’t already been said? And if Donovan returned while she and he were in the same room together? She shook her head. Well, that couldn’t be contemplated, and she didn’t wish to, for she wasn’t all that certain which man would come out the victor in a fight.
Elizabeth quickened her steps, almost jogging, until she reached the Gold Parlor. Her day gown of jaunty, holiday green fluttered about her ankles, and as she took a few deep breaths to calm herself, she entered the room. “I apologize but I cannot—”
“Good afternoon, Lizzy,” he interrupted as he stood from the gold brocade sofa and bestowed a grin upon her that did queer things to her insides. “It’s a rather fine day for a drive, don’t you think? Perhaps you might accompany me, if you’re not already engaged.” His skin was pale, and worry immediately took possession of her. Was he ill or was it merely a product of the curse?
“Rafe.” Her mouth opened and closed like a caught fish. Never had he attempted to court her. She’d assumed he wasn’t interested in the softer side of society, that he would always take what he wished by force. Words failed her, so she gawked at him instead. His blond hair had been tied at his nape and gave him an air of an old-fashioned gentleman. His jacket of maroon matched splendidly with the embroidered swirls done in maroon thread on his ivory brocade waistcoat. Gray breeches tucked into gleaming Hessians completed his ensemble. What was more, she’d not seen in him such attire before, only in black. It was as if he’d taken special care of his looks today.
The earl cocked an eyebrow. “May I take your speechlessness for consent or refusal?” Though his tone of voice was everything polite, she heard the tiny quaver at the back of it. He was afraid? Of her rejection?
Her heart trembled slightly. Did he truly hold her in such high regard? She glanced at the windows and then back to his face where expectation flitted through his expression. The glint off his emerald stickpin within the snowy folds of his cravat drew her attention, and her chest tightened. She’d given him that ornament, so many Christmases ago when they’d been fast friends… and more... and she’d assumed their lives would grow entwined. Did he always wear it, for she’d spied it on him that night he’d come back into her life? “I suppose a drive through the park wouldn’t hurt.” What was happening to her and to her resolve that he should stay away?
That damned stickpin. She would do this for nostalgia’s sake. Or perhaps for hers, as Alice’s words rang in her ears. Mayhap this was an opportunity to talk with him in an effort to come to know him better, as a man outside of his curse.
Then she could let him go.
“Excellent.” His hazel eyes lit with pleasure for a brief moment before he hooded them once more. “My chaise is outside on the curb, for I didn’t wish to have the horses unharnessed in the event you’d refuse.”
“I understand.” Yet she stood there, not moving. It was as if her feet had turned into blocks of stone while the rest of her burned with heat. “About what I said to you the other night…”
He held up a gloved hand. “Put it from your mind, for I shouldn’t have said what I did that night either.”
“I think perhaps we were both letting off frustrations.” That had led nowhere except to confirm the terrible want she still harbored for him.
After Rafe had departed that evening, Lord Rockingham had escorted her back to the ballroom, and once they’d indulged in their dance, the marquess had quit the scene with a mumbled excuse. She’d thought for certain he would have stood by her side for the remainder of the night in an effort to stave off another possible clash with Rafe, but there’d been no sign of both men. Eventually, with no one else to talk to and the sparkle of excitement faded from the event, she’d walked home through Mayfair, for it wasn’t far.
“Indeed.” He glanced toward the door. “Shall we? I wish to make full use of the overcast skies. And the threat of rain will keep most from Rotten Row.”
Elizabeth sucked in a breath as she followed him from the parlor. “You still seek to avoid the sun?” she asked in a low tone.
“Quite, though it isn’t so bad in the winter, and I do have spectacles with tinted glass lenses that protect my eyes. Plus, the winter-crisp air is most welcome.” He glanced at her with a grin as she came abreast of him. They gained the entry hall together. “Don’t worry about me, Lizzy. I won’t suddenly burst into ash any time soon.”
“That is good to know.” She smiled at Griggs, who’d brought their outerwear. “Thank you for anticipating our n
eeds.”
“I live to serve, my lady,” he said as he handed Rafe a gray greatcoat and then helped her into the gold brocade pelisse he held.
The white rabbit fur lining immediately ensconced her in warmth. She did up the three frog fastenings while Rafe set a beaver felt top hat upon his head, at a rakish angle over his left eye. Then she donned a matching bonnet and tied the green ribbons beneath her chin. Gah, but she hated the headgear. It made her feel clunky and awkward, and the sides blocked her vision, which rendered her vulnerable. Not the best when one prepared to step outside with a vampire by her side. “Shall we?” she asked as she pulled on a pair of ivory kid gloves.
“No time like the present, Lady Elizabeth,” he murmured and when Griggs pulled open the door, Rafe offered her his arm, and she set her fingers upon his sleeve without comment.
Butterflies danced through her lower belly when the earl gripped her waist and assisted her into the vehicle. Several seconds later, the chaise rocked as he joined her. Then he took the reins in his gloved hands and started them into motion.
“Your horses are magnificent.” It was as good as conversation as any, and the animals were truly gorgeous. Gray mares and dappled with matching black manes and tails.
“Thank you. I happened upon them at Tattersalls before I left London. Outbid a duke for them at the last second.” A certain amount of pride threaded through his voice. “My grooms were only too happy to train them and give them proper exercise.”
Elizabeth nodded. They hadn’t spoken of his absence, but now she wished to know why he’d fled. “Were you attempting to avoid someone during those two months while Donovan was on his wedding tour?”
“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate, but her curiosity raged.
“Who?”
Bitten By the Earl (Lords of the Night Book Two) Page 8
