Graciela was waiting for the day when Enid might break free from her shell. She was still young. Enid might not show any interest in marriage or starting her own family, but that did not mean Graciela had given up on the prospect for her.
“Mama!” Clara stopped before her and now she could see that the furry little ball in her arms was a puppy. A small brown face with a pointy little nose lunged for Ela, its tongue slapping the air. Clara let the canine go and Ela caught the madly wiggling body.
She cried out as the dog started drowning her with wet kisses. “Clara, whose dog is this?”
“Ours!” Clara reclaimed the puppy.
“What?” she demanded in her sternest voice. “This puppy is not ours—”
“Yes, it is. The lad who delivered the puppy to Mrs. Wakefield said it’s ours. Go ahead. There’s a card. Read it.”
“What card?” she asked even as her stomach sank.
“This.” Enid stepped forward, holding out a small envelope.
Ela took it, noticing that Enid was looking at her with a speculative gleam in her eyes. The seal did not appear to be broken on the little envelope. She turned it over, dread filling her.
“Open it!” Clara insisted.
Nodding, she opened it, and that sinking sensation in her stomach plunged as she read the card:
Ela,
Something to keep you warm this winter when I cannot.
She gasped. Her gaze flew to Enid. Her stepdaughter studied her with those much-too-clever gray eyes of hers.
“What does it say?” Clara buried her nose in the little terrier’s neck. “She’s ours, isn’t she?” She hopped once, still very much like a little girl even though she tottered on the edge of womanhood. “I knew it!”
Frustration bubbled up inside her. She couldn’t very well say no and crush her daughter.
Forcing a smile, she nodded. “Yes, she’s ours.”
Clara squealed and whirled in a circle with the small dog.
He’d done this. He hadn’t signed the card, but he’d most definitely sent the puppy. She hastily tucked the card back inside the envelope. He knew precisely what to do to make it impossible to forget him—not that she had been in danger of doing that. But for heaven’s sake! Puppies! Dios no!
“Who is it from?” Enid asked as they watched Clara plop down on the rug to play with the adorable little beast.
Ela struggled to arrive at an answer to the very valid question. Her mind raced. Colin had boxed her into a corner with his actions and she couldn’t think how to reply.
To complicate matters further, Marcus chose that moment to join them, strolling into the room with his elegant, long-legged gait.
“Marcus! Look!” Clara held the dog aloft. “We have a puppy!”
“A puppy?” he echoed, smiling easily as he joined them. He pressed a kiss on each of their cheeks in greeting.
Enid eyed the clock above the mantel. “Marcus, you’re here in time for dinner. What a coincidence.”
He winked at her. “No coincidence, I assure you.”
Clara giggled and fell back on the floor as the puppy found her ear and proceeded to devour it.
Marcus squatted over them, observing the spectacle with fondness in his eyes. He reached down and petted the animal between the ears. At the attention, the puppy yipped and lunged at Marcus, clearly overjoyed to find a newcomer in her sphere. Laughing, he caught the wiggling little body against him. “What have we here? Where did you come from, little one?”
“Ela was just about to tell us that,” Enid said, her pointed gaze falling on Graciela.
“Oh, you know . . .” Graciela waved the envelope helplessly, tempted to march toward the fire and cast it into the nest of flames.
Marcus looked up while still rubbing the belly of the puppy, who looked ready to pass out in ecstasy. If only her life could be that simple. A simple belly rub and all was right and well.
“You don’t know where he came from?” Marcus arched an eyebrow.
“Why, yes, I do, o-of course,” she stammered.
Marcus’s grin slipped. His eyes turned flinty. “Ah. It is like the flowers, then. This little pet would be from your admirer.”
“Mama!” Clara stared at her in astonishment. “You have an admirer?” It seemed all these years of living like a nun made such a notion ludicrous in her child’s mind.
“It’s nothing,” she insisted.
“A man gave you a puppy,” Enid stated. “It must be . . . something.”
“I have to agree with Enid,” Marcus said. “It must be something.” Scowling, he glanced at all three of them as if their presence was suddenly problematic. He then looked back to Ela. “Weren’t you leaving for the country?” Evidently, from his manner, that was where he preferred them to be.
“But we only just arrived,” Clara cried. “I don’t want to go back. It’s dreadfully dull and much too cold. I can only stay outside for a little while.”
“Dull sounds right.” Marcus nodded once. “I think you need dull.” He might have been addressing Clara but he was looking directly at Ela as he spoke. Ironic, of course, because only recently he had suggested she find herself an adventure. She resisted pointing that out, however. She did not wish for him to think that adventure was her goal. He might wonder what she’d been up to, in truth.
She fought to hold his gaze. Looking away implied guilt and that she had something to hide. “We have a shopping trip planned for tomorrow. I can’t disappoint the girls.”
He grunted and then turned to Enid as she engaged him in conversation, but Ela still felt his stare, speculative and unsure, drifting toward her.
She blinked burning eyes and settled her gaze on the puppy. The little beast was panting, its tongue lolling happily from its mouth as it suffered a brisk rubdown from Clara.
Colin had bought her a puppy. She would kill him.
Ela retired early after dinner, leaving her family in the drawing room. Enid played at the pianoforte (some tremendously complicated piece that she’d taught herself) whilst Marcus and Clara played cards.
She’d complained of an aching head and excused herself. Once in her chamber, she changed into a simple gown of dark blue wool . . . something she would use to pot flowers in the greenhouse behind the town house during the spring months. She didn’t need to wear anything extravagant to go about her task tonight.
In front of her dressing table mirror, she loosened her hair and then tied it into a simple plait that she wrapped around the crown of her head. Then she simply stared at herself, imagining that she saw a different person gazing back. A woman awakened to desire and all that she had missed in life. Disappointment lanced her heart that she couldn’t continue to experience such things with Colin. Matters had become much too complicated. It wasn’t as though she could simply openly profess a relationship with Colin. No one would approve.
But perhaps it wasn’t too late. Perhaps she could still have this.
Vowing to consider that later, she swung her fur-trimmed cloak around her shoulders and rang for Minnie. Clandestine activities were not her forte but she knew that she would need assistance to accomplish her task.
Minnie entered the room and paused, obviously assuming she was there to help ready Ela for bed. She looked Ela up and down, and the sight of her mistress dressed to go out, even humbly so, clearly put that notion to rest.
“Your Grace?” she queried, angling her head curiously.
“I’m going out,” she announced, holding her chin aloft. She didn’t require Minnie’s approval, but that wasn’t to say she didn’t care for her good opinion. The woman had served her ever since she moved to England and she was fond of her. “I require your assistance . . . and it goes without saying that I would like my outing to remain . . . um, undisclosed.”
“Of course.” Minnie nodded and stepped forward. If she had an opinion on Ela’s covert plans, she kept her expression neutral. “You should depart through the servants’ entrance at the back of the house. I wi
ll make certain to leave the door unlocked tonight so that you can return without anyone detecting you.”
“Thank you.”
Apparently Minnie was well versed in clandestine matters. It almost made Ela feel guilty to realize she had been underutilizing her all these years. She had untapped talents, to be sure.
“You will require a hack.” Minnie tapped her lip and nodded decisively.
Ela considered that for a moment. It had not even occurred to her that she might not want to take one of their very recognizable carriages with the Autenberry coat of arms on the door out about London. Especially this late and while out on an assignation.
“Yes, that would be wise. Thank you.”
Minnie nodded. “Give me a few moments. I will come back to fetch you, Your Grace.”
Nodding, she watched as her maid slipped from the room. Squaring her shoulders with as much dignity as she could muster, she waited for Minnie to return, telling herself not to change her mind and surrender to the cowardly voice inside her that told she shouldn’t leave tonight. That this would all just go away if she ignored it.
In the distance, the puppy barked—yipped would be a more accurate word—and she was reminded that he had given her a puppy. A puppy! It was the height of manipulation and it had to stop. No más.
Not that she could entirely blame him. It was her fault. She had not been firm. She had allowed him into her bed. She had been weak in her dealings with him because deep down she wanted him. She liked how he made her feel. She reveled in it and he knew it.
She would revel no more.
Chapter 15
When the cloaked lady was shown into his private sitting room, he could not feign surprise. Upon sending the puppy today, he knew he would hear from Ela soon. He hoped it would prompt her to break from hiding behind the skirts of Clara and Enid.
The puppy had been a calculated move. Admittedly a bit of a bastard move. With Clara on the premises, he knew the puppy would be welcomed with open and exuberant arms. There was no way Ela would be able to deny the dog a home. Unlike the flowers he sent before, she couldn’t just throw the puppy away, and that fact would only anger her. Every time she looked at the adorable little canine, she would think of him.
Her black cloak with its trim of violet ermine blanketed her. If he didn’t recognize that cloak, he might have had some doubts as to her identity. She was so deeply burrowed in the garment’s voluminous folds she could have been anyone.
And yet she wasn’t anyone.
“Your Grace.” He rose to his feet and executed a sharp bow. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
She flung back her hood and stabbed him with accusing eyes. “You sent me a puppy!”
“Did you like her?” he asked mildly.
She scowled, which wasn’t a normal expression for her. It shouldn’t have made her even more tempting to him. “No!”
“No?” He motioned to take her cloak. She hesitated before unhooking the clasp at her throat and letting him assist her out of it. “Who doesn’t like puppies? That’s simply unfeeling and not at all in keeping with your character,” he teased.
She growled. There was no other word for it.
He dropped her cloak over the back of the sofa as she blew out a breath and propped a hand on her shapely hip. She was wearing a plain blue gown with nothing in the way of embellishments, but it did more for her beauty than any of her finest gowns. The same could be said of the simple style in which she wore her hair. It was pulled into a plait that wrapped loosely around the top of her head, several dark wisps escaping to frame her face becomingly. “Oh, you know nothing is wrong with the puppy. She’s fine—”
“Fine?” He’d handpicked that puppy himself. She was the chubbiest and cutest of the litter by far.
“Very well. Adorable,” she snapped. “Clara adores her as you knew she would.”
He shrugged, neither admitting nor denying.
“But you cannot send me any more gifts. Marcus knows I have an admirer—”
“An admirer?” He crossed his arms over his chest and laughed lightly. “Is that what I am?”
“His words, not mine.”
“Because lover would be more accurate, don’t you think? Or even paramour.”
“Stop. You’re none of those things. We are none of those things to each other.”
“Oh, indeed? Shall I recite you the definitions of these words, then?”
“Please do not.” She held up a hand. “My English is good enough. I know what they mean. I know what we did and what we were, but that is in the past. I don’t want to be with you.”
He stared at her for a moment, processing the militant light in her eyes. This time she held his gaze. She did not look away.
I don’t want to be with you. She couldn’t be any clearer than that. He’d said the words before himself, when ending a relationship. Cruel perhaps, but honest in a way he’d always felt an individual deserved to hear.
Still, with the memory of their time together, he felt jolted. He had not thought his feelings so very one-sided, but he wasn’t infallible. She could very well have had her fill of him and was done.
He knew his insecurities. Living as an orphan, even with wealth and privilege, left one with them. He hadn’t been enough even for his own father. That was always there, niggling in the back of his mind. A valiant little seed of discontent.
What made him think he was good enough for someone he might really want?
He released a breath. “Indeed.” He felt like an ass, seeing himself as he imagined she viewed him. Immature and overly eager. “Very well. I will stop pursuing you. My mistake. I thought you might have longed for me as I longed for you.” He inched toward her with measured steps and stopped before her, careful not to touch. There would be no touching. No more seducing or cajoling. He had his pride. He’d never begged for a woman before.
You’d never been with the likes of Ela.
She lifted wide eyes to him. “Don’t.” The single word sounded very much like a plea.
“I’m not touching you. I’m giving you what you want. Promising to stop. No more gifts. No more anything from me.”
She nodded, distrust or some other such emotion still brimming in her brown eyes. For some reason he wasn’t certain if the distrust was directed at him or herself.
“Because that’s what you want,” he reminded her. “You’ve made that clear enough now.”
“Thank you. Yes,” she murmured, moving hesitantly toward the door. Obviously, she didn’t expect such easy relent from him.
When she reached the door to his sitting room, she looked back at him questioningly. Did she expect a fight from him? After her words?
He nodded at her. “Go on,” he encouraged. “You said what you came here to say.”
Still, she did not move, even with one hand closed around the door’s latch.
“Unless there was something else you wanted,” he added. Was he really still hoping that she would stop and change her mind?
Say yes. Say me. Say you want me.
He’d told her to never lie to him. To be herself. He willed her to be that right now with him. No more pretenses. If this wasn’t what she wanted, then God willing she would snap to her senses and admit it and put both of them out of their suffering.
She gave her head a small shake as if coming back to reality. Evidently satisfied, she turned and exited his sitting room. The door snicked shut after her.
So much for that.
He sank down on his chair and sat there for some time, the book he had been reading forgotten by his side, the crack and pop of the fire the only sounds in the room other than his own breathing. It was much the same as during all his life. He was alone. Only now he felt the aloneness more acutely than ever.
Suddenly he heard the rushing of footsteps. The door burst open again. Ela shut it, leaning her body against it for a moment, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths within her modest neckline. His excitement at her return abated at
the sight of her stricken expression.
“Ela? What is it?”
“It’s Marcus. He’s coming up the stairs.”
“Quick!” Colin seized her arm and shoved her into his bedchamber. “Stay in there,” he commanded over her stammers. “He’ll not enter this room. He has no cause.”
He shut the door just as the door to his sitting room flew open, once again the harried butler fast on Marcus’s heels, sputtering his introduction.
“Ah, there you are,” Marcus declared as though he were not certain that he would find Colin here in his own rooms.
“Here I am. In my house. Where I live.” Colin gestured widely. “It’s a strange set of circumstances, is it not?”
Marcus ignored his sarcasm and helped himself to his Scotch.
“It’s rather late.”
“Is it?” Marcus settled himself before the fire. “I’ve just left my stepmother’s. Fine dinner. The pheasant was excellent. You should have joined me.”
“Perhaps next time. And how is your family?” he inquired. Because it was the thing to do. The thing he had done countless times over the years.
Marcus stopped and looked heavenward. “My stepmother had this puppy. Damnedest thing. It’s a gift from that secret admirer of hers. We really need to find this fellow and set him straight.”
“Do we?” Colin’s gaze shot to his bedchamber door and then skittered away.
“Indeed, we do. He bought her a puppy. I fear things are escalating with this Lothario, and now that the girls are here, Ela is in no hurry to return to the country, so there is no telling how much further this business shall go. Damn nuisance, I tell you. This is the last thing I wish to contend with. I always thought it would be Enid or Clara that I would need to safeguard. Clara, I’m certain I still will, once she’s come out. She is pretty and of cheerful disposition. Enid, however, did a fine enough job all on her own frightening men away. Not even her dowry can entice them.” He dropped a fist into his hand with an aggrieved air. “A man should not have to play the role of protective father when the female in question is his stepmother!”
The Scandal of It All Page 13