It would have been laughable if it wasn’t so bloody pathetic.
But now he was free, and there was no reason for Elizabeth not to listen to him, no reason they couldn’t be together if he could only convince her to take a chance. And this time, he’d use every weapon in his possession to coax her into surrender, even if it meant carrying her off to his bed like some kind of randy caveman.
He searched the ballroom for her, even asked people if they’d seen her. No one had, and his own search only led to one disheartening discovery. Elizabeth wasn’t in the ballroom.
And neither was that “nice man,” the Reverend Arthur Jones.
Christmas morning came early for Elizabeth. She’d stayed up until almost dawn, sitting in Regina’s kitchen pouring her heart out to Reverend Jones over several cups of rum-laden eggnog.
The poor man had listened patiently as she went on and on about Thomas, their marriage, and her feelings for Garrett. And when she was done, he’d patted her on the shoulder, told her she had to be honest with herself before she could be honest with anyone else, and then helped her up to her room as most of the staff were either still in bed or at home with their families.
She undressed herself and fell into bed in her shift, wondering what the devil he’d meant by such a cryptic remark. Then she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep, only to be jostled awake a scant few hours later by a very excited little girl who wanted her breakfast and her presents, and wasn’t allowed to have them until everyone was up.
Her head hurt and her mouth felt as dry as dirt, but Elizabeth rose, washed, and dressed with Elsa’s help. Then, the two of them went hand in hand down the stairs to the dining room where the rest of the family was waiting.
The rest of the family, including Garrett’s lovely fiancée.
“Good morning, everyone,” she greeted the family, amazed by the strength of her voice. She might feel like hiding under the table, but at least she didn’t sound like it.
She met Garrett’s gaze as she seated herself in the only vacant chair—the one across from him. He regarded her strangely, as if he were disappointed with her. What was the matter with the man? He was the one getting married, not her. All she’d done was reminded him of that fact. If he didn’t like it, that was just too bloody bad.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Elizabeth.” Caroline spoke from her seat next to Henry. Lud, but the girl even sounded pretty! She spoke just like a lady. Uncharitably, Elizabeth wondered if she made love like a lady, too. Although, she couldn’t imagine anyone just lying there while Garrett was inside her . . .
And the mental image of Caroline and Garrett in bed together was not something Elizabeth wanted to think about.
She shook her head. “Thank you, Caroline. I’m happy to meet you, as well. Garrett’s told me so much about you.”
Garrett made a small, choking sound as he sipped his coffee.
Caroline cast a sly glance in his direction. “Has he? How nice.”
Elizabeth frowned. Caroline didn’t sound like a woman in love. How could she marry someone she didn’t love? For that matter, how could she not love a man like Garrett? Why, he was brave and strong and honorable and devoted . . .
Oh, God. She sounded like the woman in love. Horrified by the direction of her thoughts, she glanced at Garrett. He looked awful, as though he hadn’t slept well the night before, either. Had he been thinking of her, wondering, as she had done, of what might have been if she’d only met him that night at the hotel?
What did it matter? Even if she had met him, it was very unlikely they could have made things work. She didn’t belong in his world. She didn’t know how she could possibly hold his interest. He wanted her to be strong and mysterious and she was neither.
And quite frankly, she was terrified. Arthur had told her to be honest with herself, and there it was. She was scared of Garrett. She was scared to give her heart to another man—a man so totally capable of breaking it. Her heart, her love, hadn’t been enough for Thomas. How could it possibly be enough for Garrett?
But hadn’t he already proven he wasn’t like Thomas? He’d rescued Willis from prison. He’d gone to Waterloo to fight for the woman he loved, which wasn’t England, but . . .
Her gaze shot back to Caroline. It wasn’t his betrothed, either. It was her, or so he said. Had he actually gone into battle to fight for her, and her safety? Why should it be so hard for her to believe? After all, she’d gone back hoping that her work would somehow make life safer for him, as well. In fact, when she’d heard the news that Napoleon had been defeated—hopefully for good this time—it hadn’t been her promise to Thomas that she’d thought of. It was Garrett, and whether or not he was still alive.
Oh, her head hurt. She didn’t want to think about Garrett and how much he loved her. It didn’t matter—not when he was marrying someone else.
The dim thumping of the door knocker against the front door sounded through the room. Spooning a liberal amount of ham and coddled eggs onto her plate, Elizabeth looked up, surprised to see Caroline rise to her feet.
“That will be for me,” she announced with an angelic smile. Bending down, she gave Garrett a lingering kiss on the cheek. Elizabeth swallowed hard against her eggs. She was quickly losing her appetite—the one thing that always made her feel better after too much to drink.
“You’re leaving?” she asked, cringing at the hopeful note in her own voice.
Caroline smiled like a mother might at a recalcitrant child. “Yes, I’m afraid so. It was lovely meeting you, Elizabeth. I hope to see you again soon.” She cast another glance at Garrett.
Elizabeth desperately wanted to hate this woman, but something about her made it impossible—perhaps the fact that Elizabeth felt so guilty for wanting Caroline’s fiancé?
Taking another bite of ham, Elizabeth watched as the other woman said her goodbyes to the rest of the table and left the room. Everyone watched her go. Everyone, Elizabeth noticed, but Garrett. He was watching her. In fact, he looked decidedly glad to see Caroline leave. And as much as Elizabeth secretly thrilled at his reaction, she also thought it was rather badly done on his part. He should have at least shown the girl to the door.
After a quick breakfast—Elizabeth was the last one eating—the family practically ran to the drawing room to open their presents.
She’d never seen such an excited bunch. In her family, opening presents was a subdued thing. One always knew that Aunt Martha would give slippers she knitted herself. Aunt Dorothy was always good for a new pair of fancy stockings, and Uncle William, the bachelor, would give peppermints. Nothing new, nothing terribly exciting. Apparently, things were different in the Abbott household.
She watched with an awed smile as the children vibrated with excitement. This was what Christmas should be: happy time spent with loved ones. She glanced at Garrett. He didn’t look happy. How joyful would Christmas morning be in his and Caroline’s house? Would he think of her? Maybe once he and Caroline had children . . . she didn’t want to think about that girl having his children.
The next hour passed in a blur as presents were opened and exclaimed over. Elizabeth almost cried over the gifts the children gave her. David had given her a book of sketches that he’d done himself. He’d drawn everyone in the family, including his uncle. The boy was incredibly gifted, for he’d captured Garrett’s combination of ferocity and vulnerability.
Elsa gave her some music for the piano, each note copied with shaky, painstaking precision.
When it was over, she turned to Garrett, who looked absolutely foolish in the cap Regina had knit for him. It was too big and flopped down over his ears and forehead. Most men of his station wouldn’t be caught hanged in such a thing, but there he was, grinning like an idiot over his sister’s lack of talent.
“I’m sorry,” she told him in a low voice. “I didn’t know you were going to be here. I don’t have a gift for you.”
His smile was strained at best. “Seeing you again was gift enough.”
Oh, that hurt, because he sounded so sincere.
A short while later, Elizabeth took her bounty and headed upstairs to her room to add the gifts to her trunk. She was going back to her cottage tomorrow. She’d miss the warmth and gaiety of this house, and the people in it. No doubt her visits to Abbott House would be a bit more frequent than normal as she tried to escape the loneliness of her cottage and her regrets.
But she would make it a point to first ask if Garrett and his wife would be there before she came.
A knock sounded on her door just as she closed her trunk.
“Come in.”
It was Garrett. He’d removed his cap, and his thick, tobacco-brown hair was tousled from it. In his hand, he carried a small package.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded as he shut the door behind him. Her throat felt like hot sand. She was alone with Garrett. In a bedroom with Garrett. And it didn’t matter that he belonged to another, she still wanted to throw herself into his arms and beg him to make love to her again.
“I wanted to say goodbye.” He held out the package. “And to give you this.”
“Goodbye?” He was leaving? No! He couldn’t leave, not just yet. She wasn’t ready to let him go. She thought she had been, but now that it was here she didn’t want it to end.
Her movements jerky, she took the package he offered. The paper was plain but the ribbon matched the plum of the dress she’d worn that night on The Vail of Tears. It wasn’t a coincidence, either, if she knew Garrett.
“I have business to attend to in London that won’t permit me to stay away any longer.” His gaze met hers, deep and bare of any pretense. How could he let her see inside his soul like that? One would think that after years of being a spy he’d refuse to give anyone that kind of power. “I couldn’t leave without seeing you first.”
There was no use denying it any longer. She’d loved him from the moment he’d informed her that he wasn’t going to leave his friend to die in a French prison. And even though he’d been weak from hunger and exhaustion, he’d slung Willis over his shoulder and carried him to the boat with nothing but sheer determination driving him on. Yes, he was a man who put his loved ones above all else.
But what about her? Would he rank her above all else? Or would he one day discover that the woman who had rescued him was a fraud? That her knees shook and her stomach rolled at the least little prospect of danger? What would he think of her then when she’d rather stay at home by the fire than attend a fancy ball?
What was she thinking? He would never find those things out because he was marrying someone else.
She stared at the package. “The children will miss you.” I’ll miss you.
“Did you . . . are you . . .” She looked up at his distress. Scowling, he raked a hand through his hair, mussing it further. “Oh, damn. Did you make love to Arthur Jones last night?”
If he’d slapped her she wouldn’t have been more surprised—or angry. “What if I did?” she demanded, planting her free hand on her hip. “Are you trying to tell me you didn’t make off to the nearest table with Caroline?”
The expression on his face said it all. He knew she hadn’t been intimate with Arthur and the smile on Garrett’s face was so smug she wanted to wipe it off with the package he’d given her.
“Caroline broke our engagement last night.”
Now it was her turn to be shocked. “What?” Caroline had left him? But she was so friendly this morning. He was unattached? Dear God, he was unattached!
He stalked toward her, like a big cat after a little mouse. “Turns out she fell in love with someone else while I was chasing after a certain female spy. Convenient, don’t you think?”
Elizabeth’s heart was pounding so hard she couldn’t even speak. He wasn’t engaged. They could be together. After months of wondering, days of longing, they could finally be together as she’d dreamed . . .
No. Nothing had changed. She was still a nobody and he was still a viscount. He was still a man of complex emotions and passions and she was a simple widow who wasn’t the woman he thought she was—he didn’t know the real her. And once he did get to know her, his interest would wane as Thomas’s had, and he’d find something or someone else to give his love to . . .
“Come to London with me, Elizabeth,” he murmured against her ear. “Let me show you how it could be between us.”
She closed her eyes against the shiver that raced through her. She wanted to go with him, wanted him to show her everything he promised. But it was just an illusion. It wouldn’t take long for him to realize that she was lacking. It wouldn’t take him long to find something or someone to replace her as the most important thing in his life. And it wouldn’t matter what she did, she’d never, never win him back. She’d never been able to win Thomas back—not even by fulfilling that stupid, stupid promise to protect England at any cost. It hadn’t changed a thing—except it had brought Garrett into her life.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
His lips were soft against her temple. “Yes you can. Give me a chance, Elizabeth. Give us a chance.”
“No!”
Panicked, she pushed against his shoulders, shoving him away. It was tempting, so very tempting to believe him. But if she took that chance and it didn’t work, then she would know that it wasn’t just that Thomas had loved England more, it would confirm all her fears—that it was her fault. That there was something wrong with her, and she didn’t know if she could face being that much of a failure.
He stared at her. No doubt he thought her some kind of lunatic. She certainly felt like one.
“Why not?” he demanded.
“Because,” she countered lamely, not sure how to put it into words and make him understand. “Because I’m not that woman who rescued you that night. I’m a coward—I’m frightened of spiders, for God’s sake!”
He stepped toward her, a sympathetic smile on his face. “You don’t have to be spy queen of the world for me, Elizabeth.”
She held up her hand, preventing him from coming any closer. “I’m not exciting and I’m not of your class, and eventually you’ll get tired of my wanting to stay home rather than dance until dawn.” Her eyes filled with tears. “You’ll get tired of my looks and my body and my boring conversation, and then one day you’ll find yourself something—or someone else—to love and I’ll be alone again.”
Biting the inside of her mouth to keep the tears at bay, Elizabeth pressed the package against her heart, wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to keep from trembling. “I know men like you, Garrett, brave, adventurous men. You crave excitement in your life, danger. I’m tired of all that. I never liked it to begin with. How can I give you what you need?”
And then he was on her, seizing her by the arms and shaking her. “You’re what I need! I don’t want adventure and danger! If I’d wanted those things, I would have stayed in the army and hied myself off to some far corner of the world. I want you. You’re all the excitement I want or need in my life.”
Elizabeth swallowed a sob. “You say that now, but what if you do miss the intrigue? You’ll want to go off and fight again.”
He smiled and the love in his eyes wrapped around her heart so tightly it hurt. “Unless you or my family is in danger, I don’t ever want to fight again. I went to war in the first place so they’d be able to live in peace. I went to Waterloo in an insane attempt to find you. I don’t care if I never see a battle again. I hate the bloodshed.”
She looked up. “You do?”
He nodded.
She hit him in the shoulder, fear and overwhelming love driving her to the brink of hysteria. “You fool! You shouldn’t have gone! You could have been killed!”
Garrett laughed. “But I wasn’t, and neither were you. We’ve been given a second chance, Elizabeth. Don’t you think we should take it?”
“I . . .” She didn’t know. She just didn’t know if she could do it. “I need some time.”
He saw the he
sitation in her eyes and his expression clouded. She knew this would happen. She knew he would change his mind when he discovered that she wasn’t the woman he wanted her to be.
“Then by all means,” he muttered, his voice tight as he backed away. “Take your time. I’ll give you three days to come to me. Three days to come to your senses and get over whatever is keeping you from allowing yourself to be happy.”
Her chin came up. An ultimatum? She hated those. “Or what?” she challenged.
His smile was crooked, humorless. “Or then I come after you. I’m not letting you get away this time, Elizabeth.”
And with that threat hanging over them, he turned and left the room.
It was evening before Elizabeth could bring herself to open the package Garrett had given her. He’d left shortly after their “discussion” and the entire house felt his loss. Footsteps seemed to echo where they hadn’t before. Conversation seemed less animated, lacking in wit and laughter.
Sitting in a chair by the window, she watched as the night wind tossed around the light top layer of snow on the ground. It sparkled like fairy dust in the moonlight.
Where was Garrett now? Still on the road, or had he stopped for the night and was busy charming a pretty barmaid? No, that was hardly his style. No doubt he was in a room somewhere wondering whether or not she had opened his present yet.
With that image in mind, Elizabeth slipped a folded piece of parchment from beneath the plum ribbon and opened it.
“To Eliza Rex, Queen of My World, Object of My Desire, Rescuer of My Heart.”
Nice touch. She hadn’t even opened the package yet and already he had her near tears. God, he made her want to believe, to trust, so badly.
She read on. It was a charade. Smiling, she carefully picked through the verses. He must have realized how much she loved them from how competitive she was that night they all played. Or maybe he thought she would be better at the written ones since she was so awful at acting them out.
An uneasy prickling sensation washed over her as she re-read the first three verses. Did it mean what she thought it did? Her gaze went to the last line: “And these little words will tell the world just how I feel for you.”
Naughty or Nice? Page 28
