She met his gaze. The burden of choice lined her expression. “Oh, Rafe. I think you are too nice for you own good.”
His shrug lifted one shoulder. “The man you pick to remain by your side in life will want the best for you and to see you happy.” He died a bit inside knowing that she could indeed choose Rockingham over him, even after the wonderful time they’d spent together this week.
“Thank you.” When she smiled, she looked for the moment that she’d forgotten everything except dancing with him. “I regret wishing you to the devil for eleven years. Had I known I’d miss my best friend so much…”
“Hush. It is the past, and we do not dwell there any longer.” His heart constricted. They had once been close, this was true, but did she only consider him a friend now? It was dashed difficult to tell. “It is my hope you forgive me for what I did.”
“What we did. I am hardly blameless.” She laughed, and the airy sound swept away some of his concern. “I have, now that you’re back and you’ve committed to seeing me.”
All of his anxiety and worries fell away as he stared into the rich brandy pools of her eyes. When her kissable lips curved in a more genuine smile, the sensation of falling assailed him. Down, down, down he tumbled, but he didn’t care, there was no alarm, for at the end of the dark tunnel, he would land in the welcoming embrace of Elizabeth’s arms.
While the notes of the waltz flowed over him and he moved across the floor with her, they became as one unit. The hard angles of his body fit against the soft curves of hers as if fate had fashioned them like puzzle pieces. Elizabeth gazed at him with amusement and fondness in her expression. Then he gasped. Deep down in those fathomless depths, something else glimmered, something he didn’t have the courage to analyze lest he destroy it before it had time to grow. Was she even aware of it?
It didn’t matter. In this moment, she was his, and he belonged to her. And still he twirled her about the room, lost in the woman he held so closely, whose scent of roses enveloped him and drew him near.
For long moments, they danced, in ever smaller circles until they moved slowly in the center of the room, barely circling. From somewhere within the bowels of the house, the chime from a longcase clock marked the noon hour. The sound jerked Rafe from the contented haze he’d fallen into, and he listened.
Something was off.
He cocked his head. “Alice has stopped playing.” No longer did the euphoric notes from the harp fill the air. With a glance over Elizabeth’s shoulder, he looked toward the stage. “She is not here.”
Elizabeth giggled. “Neither of us noticed. Don’t you think that’s odd?” She didn’t move from his hold.
“That depends.” He focused on her upturned face where a sprinkling of freckles decorated the bridge of her nose. Little beauty marks she hid with powder when she went out into society because they made her feel insecure, but he adored all twelve of them. “We were apparently lost in the dance. A waltz, I think, truly has magical qualities.”
“How naive you sometimes are, Rafe,” she teased, and her gaze dropped to his mouth before she slipped it back to his eyes. “I think we’ve been well and truly manipulated.”
“Then I shouldn’t disappoint the duchess.” Her sultry regard awakened his member and sent longing sailing through his bloodstream.
A twinkle appeared in Elizabeth’s eye. “Oh? What have you planned?”
With his pulse pounding in his ears, Rafe cupped her cheek. “This.” Slowly, he lowered his head and when he claimed her lips with his, they both sighed. Tender, delicate, fleeting, he drank from her again and again. He slid a hand to the column of her neck, trailed the pad of his thumb along her jawline, held her as close as he dared with the other.
This kiss was not about possession or even mastery. Hell, there wasn’t even a trace of his beast within this one meeting of mouths. Odd, that. Perhaps the vampire within wasn’t activated unless he was aroused with passion and drama. Regardless, it was encouraging, and he would take it as a learning exercise. With this intimacy, he wished to show her that she could find everything she needed with him, and that he would do his level best to take care of her.
When he pulled away and set her at arm’s length, she pouted. That tiny gesture nearly had him on his knees before her, pledging his life to her. But he merely gave her a rueful grin. “If we do not stop now, we run the risk of desecrating the duchess’ sanctuary.”
“True.” Elizabeth’s eyes, dark with desire, sparkled. High color splashed over her cheeks and gave life to her face. She ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip, the same flesh he’d nibbled seconds before. Rafe stifled a groan. “Thank you for the dance.”
He executed a half-bow. “It was my pleasure.” As much as he didn’t want to leave her side, he did have pressing business pertaining to his title. “Shall I see you tomorrow?” They had already made plans to visit a few sites.
“Definitely. Perhaps we should meet at the British Museum, for I am going driving with Oliver in the morning, and I don’t wish for the two of you to cross paths.”
“Fair enough.” He quelled the swift and hot rise of jealousy. She was entitled to live her life as she saw fit. And if he wasn’t what she needed, that was her right. “Then I will treat you to a wonderful afternoon.” Damn the marquess’ encroachment.
“I look forward to it, Rafe.” She waved as he left the music room, and there was a decided bounce to his step regardless of competing with Lord Rockingham for her affections.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
December 15, 1815
So far, the drive out with Lord Rockingham had been pleasant if quiet. Whereas it was easy to find subjects to discuss with Rafe, talking with Oliver was much of a chore. The man didn’t have any interests past buying and selling horseflesh, wagering at White’s, what repairs he had done at his manor house in the country—that he had yet to open or even reside in—hunting, or her. No matter how many times she’d tried to introduce topics of conversation, they always circled back to him.
Was he aware he did it? Quite possibly, especially if he wished to show himself in a favorable light, but if that were the case, he should wish to talk on things she enjoyed.
Eventually, they drifted into silence, and Elizabeth glanced about Hyde Park. It had somehow changed since her walk with Rafe yesterday morning. Had it always looked so forlorn and bare? None of the snow flurries stuck to the naked branches or stacked on the dying grass. Perhaps if it would snow in earnest, winter would cover the expanse of the park as well as London and render everything beneath it clean and new.
Lending it a fresh start.
Too bad a blanket of snow wouldn’t hide fear or uncertainty. Perhaps the decision she needed to make would go that much smoother.
“You are quiet, Elizabeth,” Oliver murmured and his deep voice reverberated in her chest. “Are you troubled?”
She tamped down on the urge to laugh. It is not I who am troubled. “I suppose I have much to think about just now.” Why did I ever wish for a man to court me, for now I have two, and they are both equally worthy.
“Are you not enjoying yourself with me?”
“Your company is delightful, as always.” He’d never been anything except polite if a tad uninteresting. Perhaps the marquess was merely shy or didn’t have much experience with ladies. She peered at him and stifled a sigh. In profile, his strong jaw was fully on display. His aquiline features and blue eyes arresting. He had wealth, an old title, looks, and breeding, but his grasp on romance needed work. “Why do you ask? Are you taking me somewhere entertaining?”
The British Museum later that afternoon beckoned, as did the opportunity to see Rafe. She hadn’t been there in an age; the last time had been years before with… him. Butterfly wings brushed her insides. Had he known and that was why he’d suggested the outing? The earl had also treated her with gentility and an inherent politeness, but desire simmered between them, ready to explode into passion if given the chance.
Would she fin
d the same with Oliver if he ever attempted to kiss her?
“I had no plans to do anything else this morning except drive. The weather is rather dismal, don’t you think?”
“There are many activities one can indulge in during the winter months, things designed to bring warmth and closeness,” she said in a quiet voice.
Did the lure of a comfortable life, a protected life, mean more than shared interests and easy comradery? With Rafe, she could love him if it weren’t for his beast. Could she grow to love Oliver with that same ease, for there was no fear in conjunction with him.
Do I want the path of least resistance?
“Be that as it may, I prefer the solitude the park provides right now. In this way, I have your undivided attention with nothing to distract you.” He skillfully guided his pair of bays with gloved hands that showcased his strength. When he maneuvered the carriage around a bend in the path, far removed from the popular section of the park, he parked the vehicle.
All around them, the scratch of bare tree branches filled the air, as did the dry rattle of leaves pushed along the ground by the gentle breeze.
After he pulled the hand break and wrapped the reins around it, Oliver turned to her. When their knees knocked, a jolt of awareness sprang up her leg. “You have been uncommonly distracted these last two weeks.”
“There is much to occupy my thoughts, with my brother’s ball tomorrow and making sure the duchess stays on schedule, and—”
“While that might ring true, your attention is divided between me and the earl.” There was no accusation there, only polite interest.
Why wouldn’t he grow angry, yell, do something that might show him in a different light?
“I cannot help that I’m suddenly quite popular to the males of the species.” She clasped her hands in her lap. She needed more from the marquess than polite aloofness and a tendency for arrogance. If she wanted such treatment, she’d talk to her brother. “My life is suddenly confusing.”
“It doesn’t need to be.” He took one of her hands in his, and his smile softened the lines of his handsome face. “These last couple of weeks have shown me more of what I want for my own life.”
A shiver of anticipation danced up her spine. Dear Lord, he’s going to kiss me. There was no other reason for that determined gleam in his eyes. Then his words gave her pause. Yet he has never once asked me what I want for my life, what I hope for my future. Not like Rafe had.
“It is good to gain clarity,” was what she managed to say as her mind reeled.
“Elizabeth.” Oliver peered into her eyes. He cupped her cheek with his free hand. She trembled from the romance of it all, but panic clawed at her insides. “You are that something.” Then he leaned into her and fit his lips to hers.
As kisses went, it was flawless and quite enjoyable. He had lips made for kissing, and his skill in finessing an embrace was more than passable, but his touch didn’t ignite her soul like doing the same with Rafe. When Oliver moved to take the kiss deeper, she didn’t feel the need to surrender to him as she did while in the earl’s arms. And he certainly didn’t have the comforting scent of cinnamon and cedarwood.
She pulled away in order to stare at him. Based upon that one string of kisses, she knew exactly which man she preferred, but that man wasn’t fully human, and the rest of him still terrified her. “That was nice,” she murmured when it became evident Oliver expected a reply. Not that it was a lie. It simply wasn’t desire-inducing. Would bedding him produce less than blissful results?
A smile curved his lips. He still held onto her hand. “There is something I would ask you tomorrow at Manchester’s ball.”
Oh, dear. I really should dissuade him now before his feelings are hurt. She tugged at her hand. “I know nothing about you, Oliver.”
He waved away the comment as if it were an annoying fly. “There is plenty of time for that, but I wish for an exclusivity with you in order to do that. I don’t want your attention to waver any longer.”
Elizabeth frowned. Ah, there was his real reason he’d extended an invitation for a drive. “You want to rout Rafe before he can defend his position.”
“Yes.” He tucked an escaped tendril of hair behind her ear despite the bonnet. “I would make you a good husband. There is nothing frightening about me.”
“I do not fear you.”
“No, but you do fear the Earl of Devon. I’ve seen the evidence of such in your eyes each time we are in the same room together.” He grabbed her hand once more, and Elizabeth couldn’t quell the shaking. “I suspect from the rumors that swirl around him that he is a monster, and you have just cause to know this.”
An image of Rafe’s fangs flashed through her mind. Again she felt that prick of pain in her neck where he’d buried those fangs deep, and the lightheadedness as he’d drank at her blood. “He isn’t a monster…” But a cold cloud of fear fell over her. Sooner or later Rafe would show her the other half of himself, and then what? Oliver was a full human man. He wouldn’t attack her when his emotions rose to uncontrollable levels. She took a shuddering breath. “I need time before I decide between the two of you.”
A trace of annoyance roiled through the marquess’ blue eyes. He nodded and squeezed her hand. “Will you be receptive to an engagement?”
“I am not entirely certain.” Again, she pulled her hand from his, and he left her alone.
“The best thing you can do for yourself is forget the earl. He belongs in your past, and is too dangerous besides.” Authority echoed in his voice.
But he’s not perfect, and I appreciate that about him. With Oliver, there was nothing to overcome, to face together. Aloud, she said, “He and I share… something.”
He trailed his gloved knuckles along the curve of her cheek. Tingles followed in his wake. “Regardless, you need to put him from your mind. There is no future with one such as him.”
A streak of annoyance speared through her chest and she glanced sharply into his face. “One such as him? What the devil does that mean?”
He tsked his tongue. “Language, Elizabeth.” When he looked fully at her, his eyes were hard. “The earl is other, different, disturbed, tainted.” Then he faced the front and unwound the reins from the hand break. “I will be all you ever need in a spouse. An upstanding member of the ton and polite society. Never will you find rumors or gossip about me, and by extension you. With me, you will be given access to every event and drawing room you haven’t attained now.”
Another point in his favor, but could she trade proper and acceptance in the ton for the very real something she and Rafe shared? Even if it meant being further ostracized?
Before she could reply, Oliver continued. “I will ask for your hand tomorrow at the ball. If you are smart, you will accept it, for life will go better if you do.” He threw the break, and with a flick of the reins, started the carriage on its way once more.
Elizabeth gawked at him. “Is that a threat, Lord Rockingham?” Surely she’d heard him wrong.
“Consider it rather a warning,” he said without taking his focus from the path in front of him. “If you continue to see the earl, I will have no choice but to step in and let fate take its natural course.”
Her cheeks heated as anger swept through her body. This was the man her brother saw her matched with? Did she truly mean so little to both of them? She crossed her arms over her chest. “Return me home immediately. I think, perhaps, that you have outworn your welcome, and any hope you have for a future between us is in dire jeopardy.” She’d been wrong. There was something to fear with Oliver, but how to thwart it when she didn’t know what he had planned?
Elizabeth purposefully arrived at the British Museum an hour early. She wanted to have enough time to calm her nerves and marshal her thoughts before seeing Rafe. She found a leather chair deep in the Reading Room and kept herself tucked away until their designated meeting time. There, among the tall wooden shelves jammed with books from all over the world, she felt safe. Books couldn’t h
urt her; they wouldn’t disappoint her.
Absorbed in a tome of Italian fairytales, complete with a cracked and worn leather cover, she didn’t hear anyone approach until a man’s gloved hand touched her shoulder. She squealed and launched from her chair. The book tumbled to the marble floor with a dull thud. Patrons around her stared with frowns.
“Lizzy, hush. It’s me.”
She spun about at Rafe’s whispered words, and then pressed a hand to her heaving chest where her heart raced. “You frightened me.” Oh, but he was a sight for sore eyes.
A jacket of sapphire blue superfine molded to his torso and shoulders, while a peacock green brocade waistcoat drew her attention to the nip of his waist. Buff-colored trousers set off his lean, muscled legs.
When she finally raised her gaze to his, amusement twinkled in the hazel depths. “I didn’t mean to, but I did say your name at least three times. You were quite engrossed.” As he bent to retrieve the dropped book, she admired the curve of his backside.
What the devil is wrong with me? I’ve seen him before, and naked besides. Perhaps after Oliver had left such a foul taste in her mind, she needed Rafe to cleanse her palate. “Er, I…” She blew out a breath. “I was probably wool-gathering more than reading.”
He laid the thick tome on her chair but then returned his focus to her face. “What’s happened?” Concern threaded through his whispered inquiry. When she didn’t answer, he took hold of her upper arm and propelled her out of the Reading Room and into a short corridor that lay empty. “I can see it in your expression that something has occurred and you’re shaken by it.”
“It could just be my imagination.” Why would the marquess have cause to threaten her? She’d done nothing untoward… except let Rafe court her. Yet, even now, anxiety crawled over her skin. Elizabeth clutched at his hand, merely to anchor herself to the moment.
“If your gut tells you it’s not, then your instincts are sound.”
She nodded. Out of everyone, Rafe would understand. “Oliver took me driving this morning.” She didn’t tell him the whole of the conversation. “He suggested heavily that I stop seeing you, that I accept an engagement from him, or else.” Her hands shook from the force of the worry still coursing through her.
Bitten By the Earl (Lords of the Night Book Two) Page 19
