Benedict pulled her aside, so no one else would hear. “You are not to dance or be alone with Thornston. Do I make myself clear?”
She felt her brows snap together and asked, “What has you acting so strangely?”
Benedict’s features were set, which meant his mind was too. “Take Thornston’s word. He is not looking for marriage. He only dallies with ladies. He is never serious. Stay away from him. Elise, promise me.”
“Now you are just being silly. Lord Thornston would never want to have a dalliance with me. I’m sure his mistress keeps him well satisfied.”
Benedict’s eyes widened like an owl. Even the swivel of his head to see if anyone had heard seemed rather owl like. “What do you know of such things?”
Shocking her now stodgy brother was one of Elise’s favorite past times.
Curious if Harold had a woman waiting for his company tonight, Elise lured Benedict into providing the answer. “Enough to know that Thornston wouldn’t want someone as inexperienced as me when he could have… what is his mistress’s name again?”
“Anastasia Vankish.” Benedict’s fisted hand slapped against his thigh. “Dammit, Elise. Stop your trickery.”
Poor Benedict. He had never been able to lie or hide the truth from her. And she loved him for it. It also assisted her when she needed information. Over the years he had helped her in foiling the plans of many unscrupulous gentlemen in deceiving or kidnapping innocents into marriage, which brought to mind her earlier conversation with Kilman. She needed to gather more information on Lady Isodora and the eldest son of the Viscount of Hawkbridge, Mr. Howlington.
Ready to be rid of her brother, Elise said, “I’m off to find Mama and return home.”
Benedict’s features softened. “I’m not ordering you home. There are so many eligible gentlemen present. Why do you continue to associate with those who are…”
“What? Benedict. Say it.” Her eyes never left his, daring him to vocalize his views. Their parents had raised them with the belief that while they had been born into privilege, respect and honor were gained from one’s actions, not from one’s title. With a slight shake of her head, she said, “I have no idea when you turned into a pretentious prig, but I remain stout in my beliefs.”
Elise turned and left in search of their mama. Elbowing guests as she pushed through the throng of overheated bodies, she avoided the lascivious gazes thrown her way. While she may be considered too old to marry but interesting enough for a dalliance, Elise had sworn never to engage in such activities again. And certainly not with the man who was still deceptively capable of stealing her breath and heart! Looking over her shoulder, she caught Harold staring at her. For one fleeting, delicious, and terrifying moment, she thought he might come to her. Instead, he moved to stand next to her brother, where he remained.
She would have to become accustomed to seeing him about if he was intent on assisting Benedict in finding a duchess—though if Benedict would just look past his nose, he would see the perfect woman for him right before his eyes. Dorinda might be merely the daughter of an obscure baronet, but she had an innate ability to converse with young and old on any topic with keen interest. More importantly, she was kind, fiercely loyal, and had the patience of a saint, which was of paramount importance for a successful marriage to Benedict. But if Elise’s brother couldn’t figure it out for himself, he didn’t deserve Dorinda’s heart.
Elise spotted her mama having a tête-à-tête with Isodora’s mama, Her Grace, the Duchess of Bansfield. Kilman had described the lady to her earlier. Perfect. She would have to convince Mama to extend an invitation for tea to Isodora and her mama.
With brisk steps, she stood before the pair and said, “Mama. I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”
“Of course not, my dear.” The dowager Duchess of Fairmont turned to her companion. “Duchess Bansfield, may I present to you my daughter Elise.”
Elise curtsied. “Your Grace.”
“My daughter, Lady Isodora, will be making her debut this Season.”
Rising out of the deep curtsy, Elise replied, “I haven’t had the pleasure to meet your daughter, but I hope to rectify that soon.”
“Elise knows most everyone, having been through many Seasons.” As the words tumbled out, her mama’s eyes widened.
Mama didn’t have a mean bone in her body, and Elise well knew there was no malicious intent in the comment. In fact, her tone had been rather boastful. “What Mama means is, having experienced a few Seasons, I may be able to aid Lady Isodora in navigating through all the rough straits and rocky shoals.” Elise tilted her head meaningfully toward a known fortune hunter who had conveniently happened by.
Her Grace’s eyes lit up as she caught Elise’s meaning. “Lady Elise, that would be wonderful! I’m of an age, and since I have a preference for country living and rarely come to town, I’d be honored if you would assist my Isodora.”
Elise grinned. Matters were falling quite nicely into place. “It would be my pleasure, Your Grace. Mama, might I suggest we have Her Grace and Lady Isodora over for tea tomorrow?”
Her attention was drawn away by the sight of Kilman talking to Harold on the opposite side of the room. While her mama and the Duchess of Bansfield made arrangements, Elise took the opportunity to let her eyes wander over the men. Both were of similar height and physique, yet her eyes were drawn to Harold. Why after all these years had her heart remained attached?
Harold’s skin heated as Elise’s gaze roamed over him.
“I’m pretty sure you have a purple beetle on your nose, Lord Thornston.”
He tore his eyes away from Elise.
Kilman raised a brow in question.
Not knowing what had been asked, Harold replied, “Yes. Yes, indeed.” It was best to always be in agreement, was it not? Oddly, his response invoked a smirk from Kilman. What had the man said?
Harold’s focus returned to Elise once more. Every time he tore his eyes away, they strayed right back, magnetized. His eyes followed the outline of her features, the tilt of her head at the perfect angle, highlighting her long elegant neck. The neck he had fondly nibbled upon. After years apart, the woman was still capable of distracting him to no end, eliminating all other thoughts.
He blinked the memory away. Elise sat perched on the settee, listening intently to the discussion held by her mama and another matron. The dutiful and obedient daughter and now the sister of the Duke of Fairmont. Harold’s nose wrinkled, and he swallowed his fear of never measuring up to the lady.
“Thornston.” Kilman demanded his attention.
“What? Sorry old fellow.”
“Elise is not in the market for a husband.”
Ah. Maybe Kilman could provide some insight into why Elise remained unwed. “Why is that?”
“She has seen and been privy to one too many schemes devised by rakes, scoundrels, and fortune hunters. She has lost faith in the male gender. Even her brother has disappointed her.”
“Fairmont? What the devil did he do?”
“He became an elitist.”
“We are talking of Benedict Brownstone, Duke of Fairmont, are we not? The gentleman that stood on boxes at Oxford, campaigning for equality among all students?”
Kilman’s gaze remained on Elise. “Yes. That was a long time ago. People change.”
He didn’t care for the way Kilman stared at Elise. There was admiration but also a hint of affection. Was Kilman in love with her? “Was it Elise who you partnered with earlier?”
Kilman chuckled and then answered, “I danced with many fine ladies tonight, but Elise was not one of them.”
The strand of pearls glinted in Elise’s dark tresses. Harold would wager she was indeed the same woman who had played cards with Kilman earlier. Why was the man not forthcoming? What were they hiding? His blood began to boil.
“Are you having an affair with her?”
Kilman’s eyes blazed. “Lord Thornston!”
Harold took a half step back,
surprised by the intensity of Kilman’s response. Harold’s jealousy lowered to a simmer.
Kilman purposefully cracked his knuckles. “You deserve a sound thrashing for the suggestion.”
Harold stood eye to eye with Kilman. The hard glint in the man’s eyes was filled with something Harold couldn’t immediately identify.
Kilman said, “Elise would never engage in such activities.”
The man’s statement was laced with a tinge of longing.
Harold was the first to look away. “Beg pardon. I’ve been out of society a tad too long.”
What had he been thinking? Of course, the daughter of a duke would never trifle with a mere earl.
Harold said, “I find it rather perplexing as to why she remains unwed. She is beautiful, more so than my memory served me.”
“I thought I had a chance. I’ve been assisting her for years, building her trust, but as soon as you walked through the doors this eve, I realized it was not to be.” Kilman’s stance remained relaxed, but his intense stare had Harold on edge. “She still looks at you as if you hadn’t abandoned her.”
Is that what Elise believed, that he had abandoned her?
“Kilman, you are talking in riddles.”
“I’ve decided to take a quick jaunt to the countryside.” Kilman’s severe gaze left him and settled upon Elise. “I expect you to assist her while I’m gone.”
Harold’s shoulder sagged as if Kilman had just placed a heavy burden upon him. “How exactly am I to aid Elise?”
“You’re an intelligent man. You will figure out the how. But to start, you will need to acquaint yourself with Hawkbridge’s heir, the young Mr. Alistair Howlington. I hear he will be at Jackson’s tomorrow.” Kilman placed a parchment in his hand and said, “Get this note to Elise tomorrow. Do not let Fairmont suspect a thing. Understood?”
As soon as he nodded, Kilman turned and left.
The sadness in Kilman’s eyes confirmed the man was in love with Elise.
The earl was a well-respected gentleman. Had he not passed Fairmont’s test? Had Elise assisted in creating the questions? There had been a time when Harold believed he knew everything there was to know about Elise only to be disappointed when she never deemed him worthy enough to seek him out, not even when she had claimed to love him.
The earl’s cryptic revelations were a muddle in Harold’s head. He tapped the letter against his thigh. What did it contain? Was it a love note? Placing it in his breast pocket, he made his way outside to hail a hackney to take him home. He wouldn’t rest until he read its contents.
Chapter Two
Standing in the dark, Harold held a handful of pebbles.
Clink.
Two levels up. Three windows over. It was the entrance he had used years ago to sneak into Elise’s chambers. The moon was in full sight. Elise should have returned by now. He waited for a moment before releasing another stone, one slightly larger than the last.
A light finally appeared, but it was two windows down. Jumping behind a large oak, he peered up to see Elise opening the window.
“Who’s out there?”
Harold stepped out of the shadows. “It’s me, Thornston.”
“Thornston?”
There was definite confusion in her voice, but had it also been a little breathless? How many evenings had he dreamed of her uttering his name? Every. Single. Night. Had she thought of him? Did she find herself tangled among bed sheets only to awake alone and wanting each morning as he had?
Clearing his throat, he pushed his errant thoughts aside. “I need to deliver a message to you. Why the devil did you move rooms?”
“Benedict caught me sneaking out one time and demanded I move farther down. The ledge is wide enough. Climb up and come to the window.”
He hadn’t climbed a tree in years. Ten, to be exact. He was no longer a spry twenty-year-old. What was he doing, climbing into a lady’s bedroom at night? Men of his age didn’t engage in such activities. This was madness.
Harold hauled himself up to the same branch he had used on many occasions in his youth. Insane or not, excitement coursed through him. Along with a touch of pride. The tree hadn’t posed much of a challenge after all. With surprising agility, he made his way to Elise’s window and climbed through. The candlelight revealed a more mature Elise awaiting him, her brows scrunched, and eyes narrowed. A far cry from the welcoming embraces and kisses she used to greet him with.
“Lord Thornston, explain why this could not wait till the morn.”
She was even more beautiful when angered—dressed in a silk robe that did nothing to hide her luscious curves. Harold’s palms itched to reacquaint themselves with her body. Curse his pride for remaining away all these years. The woman was created for him and him alone.
Reining in his wayward thoughts, he reached into his greatcoat and retrieved Kilman’s note. Stepping close enough to feel her radiating heat, he presented the missive. Would her touch still ignite every cell within him?
Elise reached out and slowly took the parchment. Her movements were precise as if she were taking extreme care not to touch him. She fingered the parchment, and the innocent movement resulted in images of her hands raking across his naked body to flash before him. The searing memories evoked a tingling sensation that ran down his back. He vividly recalled the time she had clawed at his back, leaving marks. What he would do to experience that again!
“What is this?”
Harold blinked at the question. The woman before him was not the youthful, passionate Elise who had once writhed beneath him. Her abrupt tone dispelled all thoughts of once again having her naked in his arms.
Harold cleared his throat. “ Kilman asked me to deliver this to you.”
“Kilman? Why did he not deliver it himself? Is he hurt?”
A wave of jealousy rolled through Harold at her concern for the man. She moved closer to the candle that sat on the table next to her bed. Her robe gaped open as she bent to read the note, revealing her soft, creamy skin. He stared at the glorious breasts that he had once ravished. His breeches immediately tightened. He wanted to flick her nipple with his tongue and make her moan. Her body had responded to his touch and kisses in a way no other had ever matched. No woman had managed to evoke desire and passion within him as Elise had. Even the most experienced courtesans had not been able to induce an orgasm that paralleled the one he had experienced with Elise.
He savored her every move. Her eyes roamed over the parchment he had memorized:
To my dearest Elise,
I must leave town to attend to urgent matters on my estate. I apologize for leaving you in the early stages of our inquiries. Be VERY careful, my dear, and I will seek you out upon my return.
Your ever-loyal servant,
Lord Kilman
Elise read the note twice, fully aware Harold was waiting for some reaction. She remained by the bed but turned slightly into the shadow, needing to sort matters in her head before facing him. It was unlike Kilman to leave town. He hated the countryside. Something was amiss.
Rotating slowly, she fixed her gaze on Harold. “What did you do to Kilman?”
“I can assure you I haven’t done a thing to the man. He cornered me and insisted I deliver a message to you.”
Harold might be a rake, but he wasn’t a liar.
“So, you have no inkling as to the contents of the note?”
Harold blanched. “Well, I might have read it.”
“Lord Thornston, have you no morals? It was private correspondence.”
Harold flinched at her use of his formal title. So be it. She wouldn’t fall into old habits of familiarity. She couldn’t. Her heart and sanity wouldn’t survive if she allowed him close again.
“Kilman was talking in riddles; I thought maybe it might help clarify why he had extracted such odd promises from me.”
The desperation and confusion in his voice confirmed her suspicions that Harold wasn’t fully aware of what he had involved himself in.
&nb
sp; Would all the men in her life continue to disappoint? Why would Kilman leave her now when she needed him? He had been her rock, the one man she could rely on. She had even started to view him as possibly more than a friend. She recalled their kiss, and she lifted her fingers to her lips. Sadly, when their lips had touched, the soaring delight she had wished to experience once again did not materialize. She had only been kissed by one other, and he was standing in her room, looking out of place and uncomfortable.
Harold approached and placed his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t want him to comfort her. Kilman had abandoned her just as Harold had years ago.
Elise turned away in an attempt to shrug off his touch. But his hand remained in place, causing havoc with her thoughts. “Exactly what did Kilman make you promise?”
“To assist you.” Reaching around her, he cupped her chin and turned her to face him. “I’m not certain why I’m to seek introductions to a young pup by the name of Mr. Alistair Howlington, but perhaps you could shed some light on the matter for me.”
His touch created chaos within her. The gentleness of his tone and the sincere look in his eyes tempted her to open up to him once more. She had experienced moments of weakness over the years. She had craved the feel of him, his warmth, and his reassurances that love would prevail. But all those hopes had been dashed time after time. After years of disappointment, she had learned not to place her trust in men. She was no longer the naïve girl who believed in knights in shining armor ready to save the damsel in distress. Women had to look out for each other. Men were entirely unreliable creatures.
Why had Kilman trusted Harold to assist in the investigation? What a predicament. She held the answers Harold sought, and she desperately wanted to confide in him once more, but she questioned his motives in assisting her. The ache in her heart reminded her she had entrusted Harold once before. She needed time to think. Her brain never functioned when Harold was close.
Desires of Lady Elise Page 2