by Rose, D. L.
“Yes, of course I did.”
“I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into. Once the towns people see you acting as Malcolm’s secretary, they will no longer treat you the same.”
“I am positive the town’s people will treat me the same as they always have, not everyone is such a stickler over such things.” She returned frostily.
“For your sake I hope so. I wish I could be so naïve about the world. I’m sure it makes everything much rosier.”
Eloise bristled under his condensation. “I am not naïve Lord Black. I am not some child you can manipulate so disdainfully. I may not have the ages of experience you have acquired, but nor have I been spared from misfortune. I am very well acquainted with grief and loss.”
“Are you calling me old?” He looked down and smiled at her.
Eloise could taste the retort on her tongue but Ben had the look of a cat who would like to play with his prey before he ate it.
“I am quite sure I don’t know your age,” she circumvented. Lud but the man was intimidating. Her body seemed unable to decide what it wanted. One moment she was angry, the next she felt bashful, until finally her skin just tingled in awareness of him in an unnerving fashion.
Ben relaxed as again Eloise flushed delightfully. He had discovered a weakness and it appeared to be her lack of awareness when it came to men. His rank disapproval she could handle but when he moved close to her, her wits scattered like leaves in the wind. He had her measure now and the afternoon looked significantly brighter. He braced his hand on the chair behind her and planted his other next to hers by the ledger. “Why don’t you finish this column here while I observe.”
Eloise ground her teeth. She felt enveloped by him and unable to move with him so near. His proximity was highly improper and she was sure he was only doing it to befuddle her. Two could play this game.
“Certainly.” She glanced at the ledger and easily recognized the pattern Jasper followed. Tucking a loose curl behind her ear she reached for the quill and dipped it in fresh ink. All was silent but the scratching of the quill and the steady rhythm of his breath. With each exhale the hair by her ear would tickle her and cause little chills to shoot down her spine. Eloise tried to concentrate, but with each of his breaths her cheeks grew warmer and her body felt as if she were going to break out in a sweat. Defying her control she involuntarily shivered and wiggled her shoulders.
“Are you cold?” He asked curiously.
Not in the least, she thought. “No, that is um…” She met his gaze and blanked. How could she claim to be cold when she was pink and warm from head to toe?
Ben suppressed a smile. Eloise was proving to be quite an easy mark.
“It’s your cologne. I think I am allergic to it.”
“I’m not wearing any.”
“Your shaving soap perhaps?” Eloise sneezed daintily for effect; whatever it took to create some distance between them.
“Alright,” Ben grudgingly moved away and sat in one of the chairs before the desk. “Is this better?”
“Quite so.” Eloise bent to her task and focused on ignoring him. She looked through the stack of receipts and began to make entries in the ledger.
Ben watched her carefully. He had never had the opportunity to look at Eloise without her noticing or spurring his temper but right now, as she focused on the task, he took his fill.
She really was beautiful.
Her blond hair was streaked with shades of honey and gold. Her face was heart shaped and set with delicate features that belied her stubbornness and tenacity. Her skin was youthful and creamy, her lips a delicate and soft petal pink. She bit her lip in concentration and for some reason Ben found it highly erotic. Her bottom lip was just full enough to make you want to taste it; to suck it into your mouth and taste how soft her lips could be, to see if they would darken after being kissed or become fuller. He glanced at her neck and could see her pulse beating gently beneath her skin. Were he a weaker man he would easily succumb to her charms but luckily he was not a weak man and knew Eloise for the hoyden she really was.
Lord help the man who would someday marry her. Although with a wife as beautiful as her to warm his bed he would be a blessed man indeed. Perhaps children would soften her wildness, children and a husband with a firm hand. Christ he needed a woman. He had been celibate way too long if he was having thoughts that included Eloise in bed. He mentally shook himself and focused on her hands dutifully scribbling away in the ledger. The idea of her living the rest of her life as Malcolm’s secretary was laughable. She had no idea how time consuming, mind numbing, and stressful running an estate could be. She would crumble under the full duties within a week and Malcolm would be in the same position as before if not worse. It would be a waste of her beauty and more.
The more Ben thought about it the more it bothered him. She needed more than this county life. She needed a husband, a household, and children to absorb all her reckless energy. If only she knew what she was giving up she would drop this foolish idea of spinsterhood and seek a husband. It seemed Ben would have to help her see the errors of her ways. Tonight at the ball there would be plenty of country gentry and noblemen to choose from. Perhaps he should have his uncle agree to a small dinner party. If she dressed and behaved as she had the other night she would have a legion of drooling besotted fools courting her in no time. Ben smiled triumphantly, it was a splendid plan.
Eloise looked up. “I am finished with this column.”
“Splendid,” Ben said cheerily. He stood and walked around the desk to look over her work. It was neat and precise. “Well done Eloise.”
Eloise eyed him warily. He was being suspiciously kind and why on earth did he look so pleased with himself? “Thank you my lord.”
“Please Eloise, I have given you permission to use my given name and I would like you to do so.”
“Maybe if I wasn’t ordered to do so it would come naturally.”
“I wasn’t ordering you,” he chided.
“It certainly sounded like it,” Eloise grumbled.
“I see you are determined to make me the villain in all things. What can I do to change your mind?”
Eloise looked at him suspiciously. It was unnerving with him standing beside her chair leaning over her. She felt dominated and she didn’t like it one bit. “I don’t understand why you should care. Why do you have this sudden urge to make nice with me? Can’t we go on as we were?”
“You want to continue to dislike me? What have I ever done to you to earn such dislike?”
Eloise groaned aloud. “Must we have this conversation? I preferred your disapproval and distance to this sudden desire to be friends.”
“You will have to forgive me. I thought there could be peace between us since we will be spending time together while I show you the duties you begged my uncle to learn. But if you would prefer awkward silences and picking fights then by all means let us hate each other.” Ben slammed the ledger closed angrily.
Eloise stood suddenly from the chair. “I did not beg my lord, I have never begged for anything in my life.” She faltered when she realized that they were now standing extremely close. His eyes bored into hers, agitated and angry. She could see bright white flecks in the grey like sparks of lightning. She tried to step back, but when she tried to move she realized that the heavy ornate chair had slid back when she stood, trapping the hem of her skirt.
“My dear girl you did beg for this and believe me when I say you will regret it.” His voice was dark and ominous. “I don’t know why you’ve chosen to make an enemy of me, but if that is what you wish then so be it.”
His eyes skittered over her face before lingering on her lips and the already fractious energy between them intensified. Her body was tense with awareness as he continued to stare at her with such force. She could feel the warmth of his body and much to her alarm she felt her body ever so slightly sway towards his without her control. Time slowed to an agonizing pace as Eloise fel
t her heart beat a frantic rhythm and she couldn’t calm herself. She felt like they were moving closer together by excruciatingly slow degrees pulled by some invisible power. He dipped his head ever so slightly and in her mind a traitorous thought formed. She wanted him to kiss her.
She tried to speak or move to break the spell but she was helpless against the moment and the energy of him so close to her. His head moved closer in descent--sure of its task--when suddenly he reversed. Stepping back he met her gaze with wide eyes. They had come so close to the unthinkable but it seemed he at last found sense, where as she would only have succumbed to him. His reversal startled her from her dazed state and she looked at him with equal alarm. There were no words to lessen the awkwardness and sheer madness of the moment.
He cleared his throat and tried to form words. “I er ...”
Mentally pinching herself Eloise found her tongue and a modicum of brain function. “I would much prefer it if we hated each other my lord. Tis better if we keep our distance.”
Ben nodded emphatically. “Certainly Eloise, nothing like that can ever happen again. That would have been a disaster.”
“I wouldn’t say kissing me is a disaster Lord Black,” Eloise blushed in offended pride.
“I wasn’t going to kiss you; you were going to kiss me. I thought it best--.”
“I certainly was not going to kiss you; you were the one staring at my lips like a starving dog outside the butcher shop.”
“You leaned in first.” He folded his arms over his chest smugly.
“Oh you!” Eloise scoffed and tugged at the trapped portion of her skirt. “I lost my balance because my dress is stuck,” she tugged angrily. She tugged so hard that the chair fell back with a satisfying bang and she was freed. “I’ll have you know I wouldn’t kiss you if you were the last man on earth Benjamin Black. If I was dying of starvation and you offered me a piece of bread for the price of a kiss, I still wouldn’t kiss you. If I were dying--.”
“I see your point Eloise,” Ben said sourly but his lips suspiciously looked like they were holding back a smile.
Eloise huffed and turned on her heel leaving the library and that dratted man who must have some inexplicable desire to drive her mad. He was succeeding. In a week’s time she would be fit for Bedlam.
Chapter Four
When Eloise reached her room her ire had cooled to embarrassment. They had almost kissed and it didn’t matter who initiated it. The thing that needled Eloise the most was her own weakness. She had been on the verge of letting him kiss her, in fact, she had wanted it. The realization shocked and dismayed her. What was she thinking? Had she no sense at all? Was she a ninny headed pea brained miss that would succumb to the first rogue that approached her? She thought herself versed in the ways of passion and men, even immune to their wiles but after this afternoon she would have to be more circumspect. She was not fool enough to think Lord Black had any real feelings for her. He was just a man and men were driven by animalistic notions such as lust. She would be on guard from now on. There was, however, a silver lining to the atrocity that almost happened in the library. Eloise now knew that Lord Black would be easy prey for her angelic persona and fall to her feet with very little trouble. The hard part would be keeping her own self in check and not letting him overwhelm her like before.
She knew she meant nothing to him and that would harden whatever softer emotions she might have. Suddenly this evening seemed less of a lark and more dangerous as Eleanor had been proclaiming. She could not afford to lose; he deserved the humiliation that was coming to him--now more than ever. He hadn’t laughed at her openly in the library but there was definite amusement in his eyes when she ran from the room angry and mortified.
Eloise did not go down to lunch and when Eleanor came to check on her she claimed to have a head ache. She kept to herself for the rest of the afternoon and by the time dinner arrived she was emotionally fortified against him. She held her chin high as she entered the dining room, back straight, her confidence growing with every step. She thanked the footman who held her chair and smiled politely at everyone until she met Lord Black’s gaze. She smiled especially sweetly for him, then bowed her head, and devoted herself to her meal. Dinner passed without much talking. The gentlemen made small talk while Eleanor; her shoulders slumped with worry, kept shooting glances at Eloise. Eloise watched the clock tick and the courses pass until finally dinner was finished and a seed of anxious excitement began to grow in her stomach. Biding everyone goodnight she and Eleanor retreated to her room where they began preparations for the ball.
“Eloise?” Eleanor brushed her hair slowly while watching her sister ply the curling tongs to her hair.
“Yes dearest?”
“How are we going to get there? I overheard Malcolm offering the use of the carriage to Lord Black for tonight.”
Eloise frowned, “Oh dear… I didn’t think of that. The pony cart should do.”
Eleanor slumped even further in her seat, “It will be so cold.”
Eloise moved to her sister’s side and put her arm around her. “I’m sorry you were cursed with a sister such as me. After tonight I’m turning over a new leaf, no more shenanigans, no more unseemly behavior or reckless larks. I will even retire my riding breeches.”
“You will burn those riding breeches and never ride astride again, do you hear me?” Eleanor caught Eloise’s gaze in the mirror. Her eyes were fierce and angry but also weary.
“Yes Eleanor, I promise. Are you alright dear? Lately you seem not yourself.” She put her hands on her sister’s slender shoulders.
Eleanor looked away but she grabbed Eloise’s hand and squeezed firmly. “I am tired that is all. I will be glad when this evening is over and things can return to normal.”
“Me too. We will bundle you up in two cloaks and I will drive slowly so that we don’t muss our hair.”
“Do you know how to get to the ball?”
“Certainly, it’s at Welchly Manor. I gave Lord Welchly one of Fannie’s kittens last summer after he spoke of a mouse problem in his kitchen.”
“Oh good,” Eleanor said, but she had about as much enthusiasm as a pig being led to slaughter.
They proceeded to get ready for the ball until all that needed to be done was put on Eloise’s wings. Sneaking out of her room they headed for the front stairs where Lord Black and Bradley were being handed their cloaks and hats. As Stanwick closed the portal behind them, the girls headed for the back stairs. Once outside they hid beside a privet hedge to make sure the path was clear.
“Tell me again how we are going to rig the pony cart and drive away in costumes without being detected?” Eleanor huffed as they tripped their way through the garden rushing from shadow to shadow.
“Oh we won’t. I’m going to bribe Dylan to ready the cart and not tell a soul about us leaving.”
“With what, your feminine wiles?” Eleanor said sarcastically.
“No silly, I brought him a bottle of whisky.” Eloise looked back at Eleanor and winked.
Eleanor shook her head in dismay. “A new leaf, remember Eloise? Also, I expect you to attend church with me every Sunday from now on.”
Eloise groaned, “Yes Eleanor.”
She pulled open the stable door and found the stable hand Dylan sitting on a barrel digging muck from his shoe. He looked up as they entered and his eyes grew as round as dinner plates. Eloise held up the bottle of whisky and smiled. The pony cart was ready in no time and before Dylan could think better of aiding them, they were off into the night; Rapunzel holding her bundle of hair and an angel with her wings at her feet.
Ben surveyed the array of guests attending the Sinners’ Masquerade with mock humor. Everyone from farmers to dukes attended and when dressed creatively and freshly bathed, one could barely tell the difference. Women bared shoulders and tops of breasts while smiling and winking with seductive charm. Gentlemen leered, groped, and propositioned right and left looking for partners for dances and lascivious activities. The
night was young and Ben was only on his second brandy, but it was clearly watered and had no effect on his dark mood. Looking for Bradley, he found his young brother whispering to a scantily clad Cleopatra near the bottom of the stair case. Wearing a toga and fluffs of cotton pasted to his face to form a beard, Bradley was an amusing Zeus. Women flocked to stroke his partially bared muscular chest and Bradley bathed in the attention.
“Bradley this brandy is piss.” Ben happily interrupted his brother’s fun.
Bradley sulked as he moved away from his dark haired beauty. “Try the punch, it’s not quality liquor but it will do the trick. You’re here to have fun and find a woman Ben, enjoy yourself a little. Your devil costume would make you magnetic to women if you were not scowling like a rankled goat.”
Ben turned and walked away. He found a refreshment table laden with cups of red punch and picked one up. Taking a small sip his eyes almost began to water as he choked down the tangy liquid heavily mixed with cheap rum. Dear lord this was going to hurt tomorrow. He’d have to drink carefully or in a matter of cups he would be of no use to a woman. He choked down two more swallows before turning to peruse a group of women standing in the cooler air by the terrace doors. The gauzy curtains billowed gracefully in the light breeze and before his very eyes an angel emerged from the darkness. She entered the den of sinners as if one by one she could save them. Her beauty was radiant, and her skin glowed beneath the sweltering light of the chandeliers. She scanned the room at large, her eyes wide and excited as she beheld the writhing mass of people merrily talking, some dancing, and others just making an exhibition of them-selves. She looked this way and that as if she was looking for someone until finally she turned his way and their eyes met.