Historical Trio 2012-01 (52 page)

‘If you choose to think so,’ Nathaniel said curtly.

‘I do,’ she stated firmly before once again turning to leave the room.

Nathaniel watched her go, his expression thoughtful as he turned back to gaze down at the fire. His behaviour tonight had not only been ill-advised, but recklessly out of character, to the point that it would have been completely his own fault if Elizabeth had been the type of young woman to take advantage of the situation and demand that he marry her forthwith. Much to the delight of the gossiping and malicious old biddies of the
ton
, no doubt; the Earl of Osbourne trapped into marriage by a young lady without money or title!

He should be feeling both relieved and thankful at his narrow escape, but instead of that relief Nathaniel found he could only remember that Elizabeth had denounced their lovemaking as being shameful…

‘—simply cannot understand what can have happened to him!’ A distraught and anxious Mrs Wilson paced the cavernous hallway of Hepworth Manor the following morning, her face pale and lined, revealing every one of her three-and-forty years of age.

She was totally justified in her distress, Elizabeth acknowledged with a heavy heart; Hector had been allowed outside into the garden by one of the footmen whilst the ladies and Lord Thorne had finished breaking their fast, only for that young man to find absolutely no sight nor sound of the little dog when he went back outside to collect him only a few minutes later.

A comprehensive search of the grounds by several of the footmen and housemaids had not improved that situation, until the butler had felt he had no choice but to come into the breakfast room and inform his mistress of Hector’s disappearance.

Nathaniel had risen to his feet immediately, ordering his horse to be saddled as he first comforted his aunt before swiftly quitting the house.

The earl had been gone for almost an hour now, with Mrs Wilson becoming more and more distressed with every minute that passed…

Not, Elizabeth accepted, the ideal time for her to inform her employer of her decision to leave this morning. Not the day for such an announcement, in fact, when no doubt Mrs Wilson would become prostrate with relief once the little dog was found.

If he was found…

What no one had so far mentioned—would dare to mention in Mrs Wilson’s hearing—were the steep and rocky cliffs that bordered the grounds of Hepworth Manor. Cliffs that would be deadly if a little dog like Hector were to accidentally fall over one of them.

And so for the moment Elizabeth was keeping her own counsel with regard to her decision to leave, knowing there was no possibility of her deserting Mrs Wilson in her hour of need when that lady had been so kind to her.

Instead she paced the hallway at that lady’s side as she murmured soothing words of comfort and reassurance. ‘Lord Thorne will find him, I am sure.’

‘But what if—yes! Yes, of course, dear Nathaniel will find him.’ Mrs Wilson drew herself up determinedly. ‘He will return shortly, no doubt with an abashed Hector in his arms.’

It was Elizabeth’s dearest wish that this should prove to be the case. She had grown as fond of Hector these past two weeks as she was of Mrs Wilson; indeed, she could not think of one without the other.

‘Do stop snivelling, Letitia!’ Mrs Wilson told her cousin irritably as that lady sat on a chair beside the front door sobbing into a lacy handkerchief. ‘It serves no purpose whatsoever and is only succeeding in making your eyes and nose exceedingly red.’

‘But I feel so responsible.’ The older woman continued to sob inconsolably. ‘I should have gone outside with Hector. Should have—’

‘Do not be ridiculous, Letitia.’ Mrs Wilson sighed. ‘Hector is six years old, has stayed here many times and has never before wandered off on his own in this way when let out first thing in the morning.’

Which was all perfectly true; the footman always let the little dog outside first thing in the morning and Elizabeth took Hector for a longer walk once the two of them had eaten their breakfast. For Hector not to have even returned for that breakfast was unusual in itself; the little dog loved food almost as much as he loved his doting mistress.

Elizabeth, after spending a virtually sleepless night in her bedchamber, had not had any appetite for her own breakfast this morning, too disturbed by her behaviour with Nathaniel in the library the evening before to be able to think of eating.

Not that there had been any evidence of that disturbing incident on Nathaniel’s handsome face and appearance this morning as he ate his way through a large cooked breakfast and drank several cups of tea whilst conversing lightly with his aunt about mutual acquaintances.

He had even spoken to Elizabeth twice, once to comment that she was looking rather pale this morning, and the other to request that she pass him the sugar bowl. The first she had completely ignored, and the second she had done without replying.

Mrs Wilson drew in a shaky breath. ‘What can be keeping Nathaniel?’

Presumably his inability to find Hector, Elizabeth acknowledged worriedly. Quite what Mrs Wilson would do if the earl returned without the little dog—

All the ladies turned anxiously towards the door as a loud knock sounded on the other side of it, accompanied by what sounded distinctly like Hector’s familiar bark.

Chapter Eleven

‘I
simply cannot thank you enough for returning my darling Hector to me unharmed, Sir Rufus.’ Mrs Wilson beamed up at that gentleman over the top of the little dog’s head as she still cradled him possessively in her arms some ten minutes or so after he had been returned to her.

Nathaniel, having just returned from his own fruitless search for Hector, only to find him already returned to his doting owner, now stood beside the unlit fireplace, observing the scene taking place across the drawing room, his mood broodingly pensive as all three of the ladies talked to and looked approvingly at the older man. An approval that Tennant was obviously lapping up as greedily as a cat with a saucer full of cream.

Which could only be called sour grapes on his part, Nathaniel acknowledged self-derisively. It was purely because Elizabeth, whilst stroking and petting Hector, was smiling up at Tennant…

He was not sure which annoyed him the most—that she was not stroking and petting him in that happy way, or that she was smiling so brightly at Tennant when she had not been able to meet Nathaniel’s own gaze at breakfast this morning.

Sour grapes, indeed!

‘It is my pleasure, I assure you, Mrs Wilson.’ Sir Rufus accepted the accolade of praise. ‘I simply happened to be riding by when I heard his little whines of distress.’

Nathaniel’s aunt repressed a horrified shudder. ‘My poor darling could have been trapped in that rabbit hole for hours if you had not found him when you did.’

Doubtful, when Nathaniel had been on his way to explore the woods after first riding the length of the cliff path in search of the mischievous dog, at which time he would no doubt have heard Hector’s whines for himself. But he had not done so, and now had to accept that Rufus Tennant was the hero of the hour. ‘Indeed, we are in your debt, Tennant.’ He gave the other man a stiff bow.

‘Not at all, Osbourne,’ the other man dismissed smoothly. ‘Knowing how Mrs Wilson dotes upon her pet, I am only too pleased this unhappy circumstance had such a satisfactory ending.’

‘Can I persuade you into taking tea with us, Sir Rufus?’ Mrs Wilson beamed at him.

‘Unfortunately estate business dictates that I be at home this morning,’ he refused regretfully. ‘But I will be returning this afternoon in order to collect Miss Thompson for our carriage ride.’ Sir Rufus smiled down at that young lady in such a proprietary way that Nathaniel had to grind his teeth together in order to stop himself from making a sharp comment. In fact, he had decided during the night, as he once again tossed and turned, unable to sleep after that unsatisfactory conclusion to his encounter with Elizabeth in the library, that the only positive thing about her decision to leave Hepworth Manor today was that, although it was taking her away from him, it would also succeed in removing her from Tennant’s more-than-obvious attentions.

‘I am very much looking forward to it, Sir Rufus,’ Elizabeth answered the other man brightly.

Nathaniel’s scowl darkened. ‘But I had thought—’

‘Yes?’ Elizabeth turned to him sharply, the warning in her clear blue gaze enough to inform Nathaniel not to bring up the subject of her departure.

Did that mean that she had changed her mind and intended to stay, after all, possibly because Mrs Wilson’s worry over Hector this morning made it a less-than-ideal time for Elizabeth to inform her employer of her decision to leave? Or could her change of mind be because Tennant’s rescue of the little dog now meant that she thought more kindly of the other man than she had previously?

It was a possibility that did not please Nathaniel in the slightest. ‘I believe it might come on to rain later this afternoon,’ he murmured instead of his intended comment.

‘I am sure that Sir Rufus has a suitable carriage if that should prove to be the case,’ Elizabeth dismissed as she turned away from the brooding earl.

Really, did the man have no sense of his aunt’s emotional state? There was no way she was going to resign today and risk further upsetting Mrs Wilson when she’d already been so distraught!

She found it ironic that Sir Rufus should have been the little dog’s rescuer. Indeed, considering the man’s less-than-favourable opinion of Hector, his rescue of the little dog was to be doubly admired.

Although Hector seemed less than grateful for that rescue as he bared his teeth in a growl at Sir Rufus as that gentleman moved closer to bend over Mrs Wilson’s hand as he took his leave!

‘I do apologise for Hector’s lack of manners, Sir Rufus.’ Mrs Wilson became flustered as Sir Rufus reeled back in alarm. ‘How ungrateful of you, Hector!’ She frowned at her pet disapprovingly as she stood up to place the still-growling dog into Elizabeth’s arms. ‘Perhaps you could take Hector to the parlour and give him a bath after his adventure?’

‘Of course.’ Elizabeth turned to give Hector’s rescuer a brief curtsy. ‘I will see you this afternoon, Sir Rufus.’

‘I will be here promptly at three o’clock,’ he assured her warmly.

‘I will walk outside with our guest, Aunt.’ Nathaniel moved away from the fireplace to accompany the other man out into the cavernous hallway. ‘You did my aunt a great service today, Tennant,’ he allowed grudgingly.

‘Only too happy to oblige.’ The man’s expression was amiable as they stepped outside together.

Nathaniel nodded tersely as one of the grooms aided Sir Rufus in mounting his horse. ‘I trust, in the circumstances, you will not keep Miss Thompson too long from her employer this afternoon?’

Sir Rufus looked down at him beneath the brim of his hat. ‘I have noticed you seem to take a…great deal of interest in Miss Thompson’s welfare.’

Nathaniel’s expression remained coolly removed in the face of this challenging accusation. ‘As a member of my aunt’s household, Elizabeth naturally falls under my guardianship.’

‘With the indulgent Mrs Wilson no doubt acting as her protector within that household?’ the older man sneered.

Nathaniel drew in a sharp breath at the obvious insult. Perhaps a merited one, considering his own less-than-gentlemanly behaviour with Elizabeth yesterday evening, but nevertheless… ‘Exactly what are you implying, Tennant?’

‘Why, nothing at all, Osbourne.’ Sir Rufus gave a dismissive smile that did not reach the coldness of those pale blue eyes. ‘Except you are fortunate in having such a doting aunt as Mrs Wilson.’

And this man’s implication, although still unstated, was obvious. ‘I think it best if I wish you good day, Sir Rufus.’ Nathaniel’s gaze was just as icy.

‘Until this afternoon.’ The older man nodded before pulling on his horse’s reins to turn and ride away.

Nathaniel lingered outside to watch until the other man had ridden out of his sight, his thoughts as dark as the scowl upon his brow, his distrust of Tennant—in spite of his having rescued Hector—having intensified during these past few minutes’ conversation. That the other man still suspected Nathaniel of having less-than-honourable intentions towards Elizabeth had been made as clear to him as if Sir Rufus had actually thrown down a gauntlet of challenge.

Intentions Nathaniel would be hard pressed to deny after making love to Elizabeth, and encouraging her to make love to him in return, the previous evening.

‘What is wrong?’

Elizabeth drew in a deep and calming breath before she looked up from soothing the healing balm onto Hector’s front leg following his bath before the fire. Hopefully, her expression was one of cool uninterest as Nathaniel stood in the doorway of the small parlour. ‘Hector has suffered a slight graze on his leg following his adventure down the rabbit hole.’ She gently wrapped the little dog more securely in a warming towel.

‘Indeed?’ The earl moved into the room on long and graceful legs encased in beige pantaloons and brown-topped Hessians. ‘I wonder how that occurred?’

‘No doubt in his efforts to escape his confinement.’ Elizabeth held the dog in front of her protectively.

Nathaniel gave her a rueful smile. ‘He did not seem particularly grateful for Sir Rufus’s efforts earlier.’

‘No, he did not.’ She grimaced. ‘Which was unfortunate, considering that Sir Rufus is less than comfortable in the company of dogs.’

The earl arched golden brows. ‘Indeed?’

‘A bad experience as a child, I believe.’ At least, Elizabeth had assumed Sir Rufus had been a child at that time. At the moment she was too aware of the intimacies she had shared with Nathaniel the previous evening to be able to remember exactly what Sir Rufus had said about the incident. Of kissing Nathaniel. Touching him in a way that made her blush just to think of it!

Despite the worry of Hector’s disappearance this morning, Elizabeth knew she had thought of little else since leaving this man’s presence the previous evening. She’d had no idea, for example, of how beautiful a man’s arousal could be, both to look at and to touch. Long and thick and firm, yet so velvety soft to the touch. Nor had Elizabeth realised how delicious he would taste. An addictive creaminess, which, despite the hours that had passed, she was sure she could still savour on her tongue—

‘It does not look like a graze.’

Elizabeth’s attention returned to the man she had been remembering making love to, her breath catching in her throat as he stood close beside her in order to examine the cut on Hector’s front leg. So close that she could feel the heat of his body and see the long sweep of his golden lashes against his beautiful cheekbones.

‘What do you mean?’ She examined Hector’s leg for herself, noticing for the first time that some of the skin looked bruised about the small cut. ‘No doubt he became entangled in some brambles or some such thing before becoming trapped.’ She smiled indulgently at the sleepy little dog as he lay comfortably in her arms. ‘Otherwise he seems none the worse for his escapade.’

‘And what about you, Elizabeth?’ Nathaniel’s gaze was narrowed on the flushed beauty of her face, noting the slight shadows beneath those deep blue eyes that would not meet his—due to a similar lack of sleep the night before, perhaps? ‘Are you none the worse for last night’s escapade too, Elizabeth?’ he prompted gruffly.

The darkness of her lashes quickly rose, then as quickly fell again after she shot him a searching glance. ‘I believe the less said about yesterday evening the better!’ Her tone was waspish.

His mouth thinned with displeasure. ‘And the reason for the obvious change in your plans to leave here today?’

She moved to place the now-sleeping Hector in his basket beside the fire. ‘I could hardly risk upsetting Mrs Wilson further by informing her of my impending departure.’ She straightened, her gaze very direct. ‘Unless, of course, you are set upon it, in which case—’

‘I am not in the least set on it, Elizabeth.’ Nathaniel voiced his own impatience with the situation. ‘It was your decision to leave here, not mine.’

‘Because the situation has been made intolerable.’ She did not add the reason was their lovemaking the previous evening, but nevertheless he still heard that statement in the flatness of her tone.

His jaw clenched. ‘You believe encouraging Tennant’s advances will make that situation more bearable for you?’

‘Of course I do not.’ Elizabeth eyed him impatiently. ‘And I do not consider a carriage ride as encouraging him. Having to remain here for perhaps a day or two longer, and Sir Rufus’s gallantry this morning in rescuing Hector, meant that I could not possibly refuse to accompany him this afternoon.’ She gave a defiant sniff. ‘Besides which, I am as grateful as Mrs Wilson to Sir Rufus for having safely returned Hector to us.’

An occurrence that gentleman had been relishing greatly only minutes ago, Nathaniel acknowledged as his frustration with Tennant’s air of self-satisfaction increased. At the same time he realised he was currently behaving like some young idiot of the
ton
, resentful of the fact that another man had dared to approach the woman he was interested in.

Nathaniel could not deny he was deeply attracted to Elizabeth—as had been clearly demonstrated by his responses to her the previous evening. But his own lack of control during their lovemaking did not give him the right to protest about another man having the same interest in her. Even if, at this moment in time, he did feel like strangling him.

He looked down at Elizabeth now. ‘I believe it fitting that you take one of my aunt’s maids with you this afternoon to act as chaperon.’

Her chin rose challengingly. ‘For my own protection or Sir Rufus’s?’

Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. ‘For your own, of course.’

Elizabeth gave a slight inclination of her head. ‘If you feel it is necessary…’

‘I do.’

Elizabeth had found this entire conversation to be painful. They were lovers—the aching sensitivity of her breasts this morning attested to that!—and yet not. Strangers, and yet they were not that either. In truth, she no longer had any idea what they were! Nor did she wish to know; her plans to leave Hepworth Manor were only temporarily delayed, not put off completely.

‘Was there anything else you wished to discuss with me, my lord? If not,’ she continued firmly as his eyes glittered his dislike of the formality, ‘I believe I should rejoin Mrs Wilson in the drawing room.’

‘By all means.’ He nodded tersely.

That dismissal did not prevent Elizabeth from being completely aware of his darkened gaze upon the stiffness of her back and shoulders as she left the parlour, only relaxing that defensive posture once she was outside in the hallway, her breath leaving her in a shakily relieved sigh as she leant back weakly against the coolness of the wall.