Sinfully Bound To The Enigmatic Viscount (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

by Scarlett Osborne

  “Darling, I would never give up on you,” she said, instead. “That’s a promise. You’re my sister. Sisters never give up on each other.”

  * * *

  The next day, when they met at the millhouse, Diana was beaming. She took both of his hands in hers, pressing them.

  “You’ll never guess what I’ve found out,” she told him.

  “Did you ask Eleonora?” Elijah asked. She went up on her toes, kissing him. Her eyes were solemn when she pulled away.

  “She described the cottage,” she said. “Almost exactly. She was even able to remember that your father had someone clean it for them.”

  “How likely would it be that there is more than one cottage in the area like it?”

  “It’s possible, but given the other circumstances, do you think it likely?”

  He shook his head. “Come here.” She let him hold her, kissing her tenderly. He trailed a finger, over her cheek, pushing one of her curls back. He cupped her cheek with his hand, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip.

  He loved the freckle that she had on her bottom lip. Noticing it made him ache. He wrapped his arms around her slim waist, pulling her in close. Her body was soft against his, causing him to harden.

  He leaned in, nuzzling the soft skin of her neck, trailing kisses downward. She closed her eyes, tilting her head to allow him access. He planted one kiss on her lips, watching as her eyelids fluttered open.

  “I wish my father would just let us be together,” she said. “It hurts to know that he’s so against it.”

  “He came to see me yesterday,” he replied. “He told me to release you—that he believes you’ll be engaged to the Duke of Morrow.”

  She laughed bitterly. “His Grace wants me to look the other way on his conquests, while he looks the other way on our relationship.”

  He frowned, anger rising in his chest like a dark wave. “No,” he said. He wouldn’t be able to live a life like that. He certainly didn’t want that for Diana. “I’ll go and talk to your father. There has to be some way to get him to change his mind.”

  “He believes that your father was a murderer,” she replied.

  “It’s just gossip. No one can prove it.”

  “No one can disprove it, either.”

  His hand was on her hip. She pressed herself up against him, and he hardened. They were so close. He wanted more of her, craved it. Yet, all he did was kiss her.

  * * *

  If Elijah asked her, Diana would give herself to him, right that moment. She saw the way that he looked at her. The passion and the desire that heated his eyes. But she knew him—he wouldn’t ask it of her. He was a good, honorable gentleman. It hurt, this constant state of not having. In her whole life, Diana had never been denied anything but her freedom.

  “You should go,” he said. “It’s getting late.”

  “I’ll go now,” she told him. “But I will never give up on you.”

  His eyes softened. “Nor I,” he said, raising her hand to his lips. She kissed him, one last time. “There is one solution.”

  “Yes?”

  He took her hand in his. “We could elope.”

  Her heart raced. The thought was terrifying. It would be a matter of taking her own life in both hands. It would be the most daring thing that Diana had ever done.

  It will be entirely irrevocable. Father might never forgive me.

  “I have to think about it,” she said. “I would be giving up my father and my sister. I’ll consider it as a last resort. Only if there’s no other way. I still think that my father can be persuaded. I will do my best. But if, in the end, he can’t be, then…we might have to.”

  She smiled up at him. He was wonderful, in every way. She loved him, with all her heart. She went up on her toes, pressing her lips to his. He held her tightly, as if he never wanted to let go.

  She thought of eloping with him. It caused her heart to skip a beat. She wanted to. He kissed her one last time, then held out his hand to her. She slipped her hand into his.

  Leaving the millhouse, she glanced around. No one moved around the Cambolton estate. It was so still. It was an idyllic scene, the gardens at Cambolton framing the house.

  Diana was already thinking of it as her home. She belonged there, with Elijah. She hated that she had to leave, to return to Lutterhall Manor, where she thought of him, every moment that they were apart.

  As they walked back to where Mary waited with the horses, Diana thought of her father. She loved him. He cherished his daughters—had been her only parent for nearly as long as she could remember.

  She glanced at Elijah. He smiled at her, his love for her shining in his eyes. He would give anything to be with her, and she knew it.

  Can I betray my father to be with him?

  She wanted to give her father the chance to make things right. In her heart, she knew that he was a good gentleman. If she spoke to him, sincerely, perhaps he would listen.

  Chapter 28

  Elijah watched Diana and Mary as they rode off into the woods. The past week had been both the best and most devastating of his life. He had no idea how to go about fixing the rift between himself and the Earl, other than to destroy it entirely. He then returned to the house. It was very quiet. At this hour, most of the servants had completed their daily tasks.

  “Lord Cambolton,” Hanby said, walking down the hall at the sound of the door opening and closing.

  “Can you have dinner sent up to the dining room, please?”

  “Of course, My Lord.”

  “Some wine would be heavenly, Hanby,” he added. “Do we have any more of the Cabernet?”

  “We do, My Lord. I’ll have it brought up.” Hanby bowed to him and then walked away. Elijah went up to the dining room, sitting down at the head of the very long and empty table. He watched while everything was brought to him. A bottle of fine French Cabernet. He vaguely recalled his father buying it, when he had come to visit Elijah at school.

  The footmen brought him his dinner, setting it out for him. It was a simple repast, of chicken and potatoes. One course, one plate. Elijah wasn’t one to stand on ceremony, so the servants often had very little to do. In Elijah’s absence, his father had always invited friends over to share in his meals. He had kept a full staff, which was wasted on Elijah.

  While he knew many of the ton living nearby, he hadn’t felt much like entertaining. His mind was always full—of Diana, of solving his father’s murder. He wasn’t polite company these days. He had a tendency to sit silently and ponder.

  He ate, thinking about his proposal earlier. He knew, should he and Diana elope, they would need to go away. Possibly, several towns over because the reverend in the village knew Lord Lutterhall well and would never agree to marry them, not without his permission.

  Elijah took a deep drink of his wine. It would be a bold move. They would be talked about amongst the ton. That gave him pause.

  What do I care for the ton? What have they ever done for me?

  They had gossiped, driving his father to keep him away from here. They had driven a deep wedge between the two of them. His father had wanted Elijah to spend his life away from them.

  Elijah recalled one Christmas in London, when he had asked his father if he could spend the summer at their county seat. His father had smiled at him, sadly.

  “You don’t want to go there, my son,” he said. “The ton in those parts tell some nasty stories.”

  “What stories?”

  His father, never one to lie to him, had told him. “They say that I killed your mother.” Elijah had seen the heartbreak on his father’s face, how he seemed to almost curl into himself with utter grief. “I could never have done that.”

  “I know, Father,” he had said. “I know you couldn’t have.” That had been the one time that Elijah had seen him cry. He had known then, at the young age of twelve, that his father had been a broken person. The death of Elijah’s mother, and then the blame being turned on him, had been too much for him.r />
  In that moment, Elijah missed his father, immensely. Not the father he had been, but the one that he would have been, had his mother never died. Had the ton not labeled him as a killer.

  I would have had a very different life.

  For one, he would have been here, and not on the Continent. He would have met Diana years ago, and perhaps, would have already married her. He would have known his father better. Would have spent more time with him. And his father would have had Elijah there, to help him fight against his killer.

  Maybe Father wouldn’t have been killed in a cottage in the woods.

  * * *

  At Lutterhall Manor, Diana was dining with her father and her aunt. She took a spoonful of her soup. It was silent, except for the gentle clink of spoons against the ceramic.

  “Where were you today, Diana?” her father asked, smiling at her. He often asked, but it had never caused her such panic.

  “I went for a ride.” She looked over at him, her heart suddenly pounding. He was studying her curiously. She could tell that he suspected nothing. Or he wouldn’t be smiling at her so kindly.

  “You have gone riding every day this week,” her aunt commented. “You will turn a frightful shade of brown.”

  “Perhaps. I don’t see how it would make any difference.”

  “You must care for your complexion, or you shan’t marry a Duke,” Aunt Clarabelle stated.

  “All the better, then.”

  “Tomorrow, you should stay in,” her father said. “Listen to your aunt, Diana.”

  “Yes, Papa.” Though, she meant not to. Nothing and no one would stop her from seeing Elijah. She missed him, even then. Mary could make sure that no one knew she’d been out. Using the servant’s hallway meant that she could slip out of the house unseen.

  “Why do you not call on the neighbors?” he suggested. “You usually see Lady Albany at least once a week.”

  “Perhaps I will. I just haven’t felt like it.” Diana realized that she had missed an opportunity for a better story than that she had merely gone riding.

  “We all must deal with heartbreak from one time or another,” her aunt said, in a moment of rather apt accuracy. The comment was like an arrow to her heart. “Lord Cambolton will soon fade into your memory.”

  “Perhaps you should try dealing with it by sewing indoors?” her father commented, his eyes on his plate. “Or maybe reading a book…”

  She sighed. Her father had never been much into sports. He was a slight gentleman, who preferred intellectual pursuits to riding or hunting. He preferred to be indoors.

  “I could do so, though riding is the only thing that really keeps my mind busy.” It was far easier to pretend to agree than to speak one’s mind. It didn’t matter what they thought. Tomorrow, she would meet with Elijah, who wanted to marry her.

  All I have to do is betray the people who love me.

  Diana didn’t like how things were turning out. She loved Elijah. He would do as he said, and never force her to make this decision.

  He would wait, quietly. Until the day she chose to leave this place.

  She loved that he had put it into her hands, to make the decision for herself. It showed how he loved her. Any other gentleman would have forced her to choose between being with him or doing as her father asked.

  “You’re very quiet, Diana.” Her aunt was looking at her in concern.

  “I’m just tired, Aunt Clarabelle.” She attempted to smile, failing horribly.

  * * *

  Diana escaped the next day by telling her aunt that she was going to take a nap. This was going to be much more difficult than usual. Now, they were going to be watching her, to make sure that she wasn’t going out for a ride.

  Especially Aunt Clarabelle, who was so concerned for Diana’s complexion. The lady had eyes like a hawk. All of the servants respected her.

  Leaving her room, she was dressed in a simple gray muslin, on the off-chance that she ran into her father or her aunt. She wore her riding boots, hidden beneath her skirts.

  Quietly, she moved down along the servants’ hallway. It was pitch-dark in there, lit only by a small, high window at the end. She knew the way well, by now. She could have done it with her eyes closed.

  The smell was musty in there—it was cool, and she shivered. As always, her heart was racing, her hands clammy. The floors and walls were stone.

  She went down the staircase at the end, then out the door, and toward the stables. Delilah was in her stall, saddled and bridled. She tossed her head as Diana entered.

  As she entered the stall, she heard her father’s voice. Quickly, she closed the door as quietly as possible. She crouched down. Fear coursed through her veins—this was the closest call she’d ever had.

  “Have you seen my daughter?” he asked. “I can’t seem to find her anywhere.”

  “I’ve not seen her, My Lord,” the groom replied. “She hasn’t requested that Delilah be saddled today.”

  “I thought for certain she would have.”

  “No, My Lord,” the groom said. Diana felt relieved that she had someone on her side. She didn’t know why, but thought that it was perhaps due to Eleonora. Her sister had been able to charm anyone, almost as if by magic.

  “Very well. I suppose she’s somewhere inside, then. By the way, I’m going into London tomorrow morning. I’ll need the carriage ready by nine.”

  “Very good, My Lord.”

  Diana listened to the sound of her father’s boots making their way out of the stables. She breathed a sigh of relief. That was close. Now, though she had a choice—return to the house, and allow herself to be found, or continue on to see Elijah.

  I’ll take my chances.

  She took Delilah out of her stall. She peered around, seeing the groom. He waved to her. She smiled, waving back. She mouthed, thank you to him. He bowed to her.

  He’s doing this out of pity, most likely.

  Diana left the stables through the back, making her way between the fields. Lutterhall estate was mostly bright green rolling fields, where horses grazed. Her father, though he didn’t much care for the out of doors, kept a full stable, with many expensive horses. He bred racehorses, and did a very solid business, as far as Diana could tell. While he rode well, it was infrequently.

  As Diana walked, she peered back to see if anyone was following her. She saw no one. She allowed herself to relax as she climbed up and into the sidesaddle, using the white wooden fence as a mounting block.

  She urged Delilah into a rolling canter, along the path that cut through the woods.

  When she arrived at Cambolton, Elijah was leaning against the tree, on the edge of the woods, waiting for her. When he looked up, he beamed at her. She pulled back gently on Delilah’s reins. The mare slowed immediately.

  Elijah helped her down, placing his hands on her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he swung her down.

  “Where’s Mary?” he asked.

  “She’s covering for me,” she replied. “They wanted me to stay in, so we’re pretending that I’m napping.”

  Although, that falsehood may have been discovered by now.

  He offered her his arm, which she accepted. Then, they headed for the millhouse. She breathed a sigh of relief. She’d made it, but had narrowly escaped.

  “What’s wrong?” Elijah asked.

  “My father almost caught me in the stables. Luckily, I was able to duck into Delilah’s stall.”

  “Well, I’m glad you escaped.”

  She smiled. The door to the millhouse closed behind them. His arms were around her, and his lips were on hers.

  She wanted for them to never be apart. He picked her up, setting her on the worktable. She wrapped her legs around him, feeling particularly wanton.

  He nuzzled her ear, his breaths coming hard. She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, kissing him. Her mouth opened, and he dipped his tongue in between her lips, running it over her teeth.

  She moaned softly, hungry for more. Her whole
body came alive at his touch.

  His fingers were at the back of her neck, holding her to him. His kisses were urgent, searching. She arched her back against his chest as his other hand went to her waist.

  She pulled away to catch her breath. He sat down beside her, on the table. Diana ran her hand over the scarred surface of the wood. Her pulse was racing as she looked into his green eyes.

  * * *

  Elijah wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He could feel her heart, which was racing. He loved the way that she made soft moans as he touched her. She looked up into his eyes.