The Secret Seduction of Lady Eliza

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  "Then that is all I can ask," Julia replied as she handed over a book of fashion plates to the shop girl, indicating her choices and then deferring to Sophia on the fabric selection. "But if you did wed him, Eliza, rest assured that I would not be disappointed. Neither would my husband."

  Since Julia was the only family that Nicholas had remaining, what she was offering was as close to a blessing as Eliza was likely to get. Not that she needed it, certainly, as Nicholas was head of the family. But still, it felt nice.

  Eliza simply wished that she was worthy of it. After all, she had agreed to an illicit affair with the woman's brother. Those were hardly the actions of a proper lady worthy of marriage. Or worthy of becoming a duchess. However, Eliza could not find it within herself to be overly worked up about the matter. She desired Nicholas far too much. He was the only taste of true passion she was ever likely to have. And she was also selfish enough not to wish to deny herself that small taste of heaven.

  She was also tried of waiting. Very well. It was time to change that situation.

  On the carriage ride home, Eliza was quiet. Almost too quiet. Though if Julia noticed anything amiss, she said nothing. Instead, she requested that the driver deposit her at the Radcliffe home first and then see both Eliza and Sophia home. Julia did have a newborn to nurse and she was certain little Jonathan was growing restless, though she also made certain to send a maid in her place with Eliza and Sophia for proper chaperonage.

  Not that Eliza minded. She wished for a few moments alone with Sophia after such an interesting day. Her friend had been too quiet by half the entire day. That was not like her. At least not with her friends anyway.

  Once the carriage rolled away and set off towards Sophia's home, Eliza reached across the small space to clasp her friend's hand. "Sophie? What is amiss?

  "Nothing." Sophia waved a hand in the air but she continued to stare out the window as the carriage rolled on past one exquisite town home after the next.

  Eliza snorted. "And I do not believe that for a second." Quickly, she peeked out the window and made a quick assessment of where they were. They would likely reach the Duke of Hathaway's town home in a scant few minutes. Not enough for her to determine what was bothering her friend.

  With a hard hand, she rapped on the carriage roof. "Driver. Pull over. We wish to walk. It is a lovely day."

  Without further comment, the carriage slowed and pulled to the side of the road. After a moment or two, the steps were lowered and both a tiger and a footman appeared to help the women, including the maid, down the carriage steps. Eliza looked around. Two town blocks. Roughly. That should be sufficient.

  "My apologies," Eliza said as she turned to the footman, "but Miss Reynolds and I have been cooped up all day. We could do with a bit of fresh air. We should like to walk."

  The footman cast her a look that indicated exactly what he thought about her version of fresh air, but said nothing. Instead, he gave a short bow and escorted them to the sidewalk, the silent maid still trailing behind.

  Once there, Eliza gave Sophia an assessing look. Since the other girl was quite a bit younger that Eliza, she still wore the dainty pastels of a young debutante. Usually, the pale colors suited Sophia's coloring, but today, they made her appear washed out and thin. The pale rose-colored gown had also once flattered Sophia's figure but now, it hung on the other woman like a feed sack. Something was most decidedly wrong.

  As they began to walk, Eliza spoke without preamble, knowing that their time was short. Even if they walked slowly. "Sophie. Please. I know something is amiss. You are not yourself." She eyed her friend critically. "Your gowns hang on your frame, indicating weight loss. You no longer glow as you did the night you announced your betrothal to Lord Selby. I am your friend. Tell me. I am sorry that I have been so involved with my own life, but I am listening now. I promise."

  For a few moments, they walked in silence, the birdsong mixing with the clatter of carriage wheels and horses' hooves in the street beside them. Then, finally, Sophia let out a great sigh.

  "My brother is reconsidering his blessing. He does not wish me to wed Lord Selby after all." She kicked a small pebble with her slipper.

  "But you knew of this before. A few days ago. What has changed?" Eliza was certain they had spoken of the matter before. Hadn't they? Or perhaps not. She was no longer sure.

  That made Sophia pull up short, the rhythmic slap-slap of her slippers ceasing. "Nothing has changed. I merely fret over the same issue day after day. But you know this. We discussed it weeks ago, Izzy. Just over a fortnight."

  "No!" Eliza protested, her mind racing to count the days since the Devonmont musicale. "Surely not!"

  "Surely yes." Sophia reached out to grasp her friend's hand. "You have been consumed by both your brother and Lord Candlewood. I have not seen much of you to speak with you about my beast of a brother." She gave a wan smile. "I am afraid you have rather lost track of time."

  That could not be. A whole fortnight? Then, when Eliza slowly began to count the days, she realized that Sophia was correct. And then she felt exceptionally guilty.

  The guilt must have shown on her face, for Sophia was quick to reassure Eliza. "Do not fret over it so." Then she licked her lips as if preparing for a confession. "I know that you have shouldered much of the responsibility for your family since Stephen died. His return? It must have been a blow."

  "How...how did you know?" Eliza had been so certain that she was being careful. Surely if everyone in Town knew of her activities, her family would have long since lost their social standing. They would be pariahs. Allowing a female to manage the household when a perfectly good and able marquess was still alive? It was unheard of!

  "We have been friends for a very long time, Izzy. I saw the changes when Stephen died. But I kept them to myself, as did the rest of your friends." Then she smiled. "But now? Your brother has returned from the dead, and it is truly a miracle. It is time to let go."

  Eliza shook her head. "Let go? Of what?"

  "Of the control you hold over your family." Sophia began to walk again, more slowly this time. "You have worked so long and so hard to keep your family whole that you control everything. Even if your parents cannot manage any longer, your brother can." She closed her eyes for a moment. "But you have been so consumed with proving him to be a false man that you have not considered that he just might be the long-lost Lord Underhill."

  "He isn't." Again, Eliza could not explain the feeling that kept her stomach in knots, but it was there nonetheless.

  Sophia nodded. "Fine. He is not. But putting that aside for the moment, there is also the matter of Lord Candlewood." She shook her head. "The two of you were not courting before Stephen's return. I know this, as does most of the ton. But they accept the fallacy for reasons I cannot understand. I accept it because I am your friend. And these last few weeks? You have been happy, Eliza. Happier than I have ever seen you. You smile more and those horrid glasses you don't need anyway are gone. That is why, despite the fact that I was desperate to confide in you and seek your advice on my brother, I did not call upon you. I wanted to give you this moment. I wanted you to have some time to enjoy yourself without question."

  "So you have known the truth all along?" Eliza felt uneasy. If Sophia knew, who else did?

  "Not at first, but then, I am your friend. I was bound to discover the truth eventually." By this time, they had arrived at Eliza's front door. "So now, I will say just this one last thing and it will be done." Sophia squeezed Eliza's hand. "Be careful. The Bloody Duke is not a man to be toyed with. You may have known him well when you were young, but he is a man now. And a dangerous one at that. That is why Julia and I called upon you. To make certain that you know what he is about."

  Her throat tight with emotion, Eliza found it difficult to swallow, but somehow, she did. "I know enough of him," she whispered, having difficulty forming the words. "And I will be careful. I swear to you that I will. But he does not love me, Sophie. I know that and I am n
ot fool enough to believe that will ever change. So I go into this arrangement with my eyes open."

  "And when the two of you part?" Sophia eyed Eliza critically. "For despite what Julia thinks, I believe that this courtship cannot last. I'm sorry, but I don't."

  "Then I shall move to the dower cottage at Langton Abby. It comes to me upon my majority in two years." That had been Eliza's plan all along, but now, with Sophie's words, she decided that perhaps she should move up the date of her departure. Once she and Nicholas parted, it was unlikely that anyone would want her after that. It was time to face reality. And take control of her future in London - what little there was now likely to be left of it. "No one will miss me, Sophia. You know that it is true. I have had my time in society and it is coming to an end. I was not meant to be like you and Diana and Julia. Incomparables who were true diamonds of the first water. I am what I was meant to be, a reticent bluestocking of a spinster who has been granted a brief moment of social acceptance. No amount of fine gowns and jewels can change what I am inside. It is time I accepted that."

  More than anything, Eliza wished that the words she had just spoken were not true. But they were. That was why she wanted this taste of passion with Nicholas so very badly. If he got her with child and was forced to marry her, that was all very well and good. But it would never be a real and proper marriage. Then again, Eliza had never expected one - from any man. She could not be upset that she would never have what she had never expected in the first place.

  To Eliza's surprise, Sophia reached out quickly and enveloped her in a hug. "I don't want you to go away. I need my friend. Now more than ever, I fear. I also wish you could see your own value, Izzy," she whispered in her friend's ear. "And I wish that you could find a man who values you for the magnificent woman that you are."

  Except that in Eliza's mind, she already had. For Nicholas knew the little girl she had once been and the lady she was now. He knew and did not seem to mind. He did not love, but he accepted. And that, Eliza decided, was all the more she had a right to expect.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Discovering the true identity of Stephen Deaver might very well kill him, Nicholas decided as he pulled his sore, aching body through the back door of his Mayfair town home. If the late nights escorting Eliza about town did not do him in first, of course.

  This proper courting business was tricky indeed. Especially when the end game was truly seduction. He wanted Eliza in his bed, certainly. But he also had something of a conscience where she was concerned and the very idea of simply whisking her off to his bed - while appealing -was probably also not very wise. Especially since he didn't particularly care to use French letters with her. No, for once, he wanted to experience each ounce of feeling that he possibly could. However, that also meant she was at risk of conceiving a child.

  Which would mean marriage.

  The whole idea - which had seemed ever so delightful several nights ago - now seemed rather questionable at best. Except that Nicholas still wanted Eliza. That had not changed. And he did mean to have her. Once he courted her properly, of course, so that if they were eventually forced wed, it would seem a logical step and not the result of scandal. And once he found the answer to the very question that had brought them together in the first place. Though that was taking longer than he had anticipated, so that particular condition might be eliminated.

  Not to mention that both of those activities took a good deal more time and energy than Nicholas had ever imagined. Never before had it been this difficult to uncover the information he sought. It truly was as if Stephen had simply appeared on the Framingham front steps after having existed in oblivion since the sinking of the HMS Echo.

  Then again, Nicholas wasn't precisely young any longer, either. Or at least not as young as he had once been. Perhaps his idea from a few days ago might be the correct one. Perhaps it was time to consider retirement. One could not be a spy forever, he supposed.

  But if he retired, then what? How would he fill his time? Nicholas wasn't certain he knew the answer to that question.

  There was, of course, always marriage as an option. And if he and Eliza suited at bedsport, then he would seriously consider it as a possibility. In theory, he did need to wed, though it wasn't strictly necessary, he supposed. Nor was he certain that he wanted to condemn Eliza - a woman who had already suffered far too much at his hand - to that sort of life with him.

  Nicholas supposed he could also begin to properly manage his affairs rather than allowing his long-trusted man of business to do so. Then again, the Candlewood coffers were fairly overflowing at the moment. If he became involved, there was a good chance that he might muck things up. So perhaps that was not the solution he sought either.

  Nicholas continued to ponder the question while Drayton helped to clean him up and laid out his clothes for the evening, the long-suffering valet muttering under his breath about being employed by a man who was brain-addled. And careless.

  Sore as Nicholas was, getting himself dressed was certain to be something of a challenge and Drayton let his employer know his feelings on the subject without hesitation. However, Nicholas was accompanying Eliza to the theater that evening and he was rather hopeful that she might allow him a little exploration under her skirts in the ever-helpful darkness. So there was plenty of incentive to pry his sorry arse from the bed and arrive on time.

  In truth, Nicholas hadn't even so much as touched Eliza since that night at the Evanston's and he was aching to do so, his cock so hard that it almost hurt. To be honest, he was also more than a bit afraid. What if he mucked things up? This was Eliza after all, and he had vowed not to hurt her further. Then he remembered the sweet swell of her breasts and wondered why he was hesitating. She desired him. He desired her. End of story.

  Except that a small part of his brain, the very same one that had warned him that taking Ellie to bed once she was Lady Berkshire was a bad idea, whispered to him that he needed to tread carefully. Eliza was different. Moreover, he was in her debt, even if she did not realize it. If he hurt her, he might not be able to live with himself. And that, more than anything, was what stayed his hand when he might have otherwise reached for her to coax her into his bed.

  As Nicholas further pondered the issue of when - and how - to seduce Eliza, he ordered a hot bath to be drawn for him so he might soak his aching muscles and rest a bit. The oversized copper tub he owned was perfect for such matters and it was not the first time an adventure had come with a physical cost. As a steady stream of footmen filled the tub, Nicholas finished the rest of his toilette and then ordered a second batch of water boiled. After a good look at his naked form, he was rather quite filthy. He doubted Eliza would find that attractive.

  Once he settled in the tub, he immediately felt a sense of calm overtake him, just as it always did when he bathed. Though to be fair, the excellent scotch had most likely helped as well.

  While the steam rose around him, Nicholas allowed his mind to drift where it would. This was not the life he had imagined for himself when he was younger. Then again, life never seemed to turn out quite the way one planned. Just as Ellie had not been the blushing innocent he had imagined her to be. Still, the path he had chosen had led him here. To Eliza. A woman he desired. But did not love. For he was incapable of love any longer and he made no pretense of it. And perhaps, for a man like The Bloody Duke, desire was the best he could hope for. Even if he did not deserve it.

  Finally, after a good, long soak, with a fresh shave and even fresher clothes, Nicholas decided that he was about as ready as he would ever be. The bath had cured many of his aches and pains, and the carriage ride to the theater would most likely jostle out the rest. He debated about simply driving himself to the theater in his phaeton. However if Eliza agreed to be seduced this evening - for he had come to the conclusion while in his bath that he could truly no longer wait to fully claim her as his lover - he could not very well sneak her back to his town home in an open air conveyance. That would smack of th
e utmost in arrogance - even for him.

  It would be difficult enough separating Eliza from Stephen since Lord and Lady Framingham had yet to venture back out into society after the attack on Lady Framingham a few days past. The attack still left Nicholas puzzled, but he was certain that when he found the answer to one question, he would find the answers to the others as well.

  For tonight, however, he pushed those thoughts aside and instead concentrated on Eliza. She was a puzzle he could solve and he had every intention of doing so in the most delightful of ways. As long as his conscience didn't get in the way overly much.

  By the time he reached the theater, Nicholas was in a far better mood, not to mention state of mind. In fact, one might go so far as to say that he was downright giddy. And The Bloody Duke was never giddy.

  The Framingham carriage was just pulling away from the front steps of the Drury Lane theater when Nicholas arrived, his coach highly polished and well-turned out with a pair of perfectly matched grays in the front. Nicholas knew he was making a bit of a scene, but then that was what he did. He was The Bloody Duke. He made scenes. And tonight, he would most likely make another, for Eliza was certain to be dressed to seduce in a shimmering confection of a gown that revealed far too much of her soft, pale skin.

  He should know. He had paid for the frock - and others like it - after all. God knows that her parents would not. Even though she deserved all the new gowns her heart desired and more.

  For the first time in his life, the notion of being the subject of gossip bothered him. Nicholas wanted to seduce Eliza, not get caught up in a war of words with some lesser nobleman looking to advance his stature in society.