She hoped the horror did not show in her eyes. “You’re an archaeologist, then?”
“I am. As the son of a second son, I never expected to come into a title. I needed a vocation, and living in Egypt, well, I was fascinated with archaeological digs, and their finds. I knew that delving into the earth and raising long-buried and forgotten relics was my future.
My father died five years ago, and when my uncle died this past spring, the title came to me. I never expected it. And when I learned I was to be an earl, I never expected to be able to indulge in my love of archaeology.
But that’s changed now. I’ll begin working in the Templar church next week.”
Her mind was reeling. Not only with the implications for the Brethren Guardians, if Julian were to stumble on something about them, but herself, as well. Perhaps the earl could help her with the discovery of the identity of the Veiled Lady. He could be her eyes. They could work together…. She knew there was nothing in the journal to implicate the Guardians. There was absolutely no mention of them or the relics in the book, which was a diary recounting Sinjin York’s illicit affair with a woman who was his soul, or so he claimed.
“Elizabeth, would you like to come with me one day?
I realize that most women would find it tedious and dirty, but something tells me you might be very keen to experience a dig. It’s not the Egyptian desert, but it might be exciting all the same.”
Biting her lip, Elizabeth had to stop herself from jumping up from the settee and flinging herself into Julian’s arms. Oh, how dearly she wanted to join him. To learn of his discovery right alongside him. To be asked to help, and not told to stand back and stay safe. She had been sheltered and protected too long.
“I would love to, Julian.”
“Fantastic! I shall make the arrangements, then. Do I need to ask Sussex for his permission?”
“No indeed. I am nearly thirty, and he’s almost three years younger. I daresay I do not need his permission.” She sounded rather indignant.
“All right, then. I shall send around a missive, outlining the details. Your companion will read it to you, will she?”
“That will be delightful. And of course Maggie will read your missive and pen my reply.”
“Lizzy.” He coughed, cleared his throat. “The dig is not until next week. I was hoping…that is to say, might I call on you before that?”
“I was hoping you would,” she said, while her face flamed red. “I find your conversation vastly enjoyable.”
“Just my conversation?”
There was an awkward pause, while Lizzy struggled to respond. She was out of her element here. She’d never entertained a gentleman, a potential suitor before. It had not been like this with her lover. They had known each other forever. It had been Alynwick, of course, who had swept her off her feet and claimed her body and soul. Alynwick whom she had spent a summer making passionate love with. Alynwick who had betrayed and hurt her.
After that summer she’d stayed alone and apart.
The silence, she realized, was much too long. She needed to answer, but did not know how. Alynwick had taken the lead in their affair, and she had blindly followed. He had been the teacher and her the eager, apt pupil. She had never learned how to answer such a question as the one Sheldon was asking. And God above, she did not want to get it wrong. She wanted to do what was right, reply just as a lady of their social sphere would. Not as a woman who had spent a summer in shame.
“Elizabeth, you said that your friends frequently describe things to you.”
“It’s the only way I am able to see. I had the gift of sight for the first eighteen years of my life, so I am able to recall many things, and picture them if they’re described to me.”
“I see.”
There was something in his voice that made her grow still, made her listen for any change in his breathing, or the fidgeting of a finger against his teacup, the tap of a toe….
“Forgive my impertinence, Elizabeth, but last night you informed me that you were the sort of woman who says what is on her mind.”
“And so I did.” She was nervous. Something was wrong. Perhaps she should have just admitted to him that it was more than their conversation she found enticing.
“I, too, prefer to speak plainly. I am open and honest, and feel that I must be that way with you.” And here it was. It was coming, and much sooner than she had anticipated, given how easily their conversation seemed to start and keep flowing.
“Did Lady Lucy describe my features to you?”
“What?” Caught by surprise, Elizabeth gave a little cough as her teacup wobbled precariously in the saucer.
The air stirred, and the cup and saucer were efficiently removed and placed on the table. Rosie made a stirring noise, and it was only then that Lizzy realized Julian had picked up her pet and carefully placed her at the end of the settee, so that he could occupy the cushion next to her.
Her pulse fluttered at the base of her throat. She didn’t know what to do, where to turn her head. It was rude, she knew, to not turn to him, but she could not. He was too close, and she did not know where to set her gaze.
“Elizabeth.” He reached for her hands, which she’d folded in her lap. His finger brushed over her knuckles, making her face flame once more.
“Last night, when we were introduced, did your friend have the opportunity to describe me to you?” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Yes.”
“And was her description…flattering?” Tilting her head, Lizzy tried to figure out what he was asking. “She said you were tanned.”
“I am. Regrettable in polite society, but unavoidable in Egypt and the Holy Land.”
Smiling shyly, Elizabeth looked away. “Intriguing for a woman who has never been out of England.” Capturing her chin with his fingers, he turned her face so that she must be looking directly at him, for she felt his breath on her cheek.
“Did Lady Lucy make me out to be someone you might…fancy?”
Elizabeth could hardly believe he was speaking of such things. At her hesitation, he moved closer, reached for her other hand.
“Would you care to see for yourself?” he asked, and brought her palms up to his shoulders.
“What of you?” Her voice was much too husky and breathless. “What did you…when you saw…”
“I thought you the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I knew that I must be introduced to you.”
“From across the Sumners’ salon?” she asked, teasing him.
“No, from the street. I saw you months ago, walking with your brother, and I knew then that I would find a way to introduce myself to Sussex—and then you.”
“So, you knew before last night that I was blind.”
“Yes.”
“And it did not deter you from asking me to stroll with you?”
“Deter me? After months of attempting to wear down your brother and soften him to the idea of introducing us? God, no,” Julian murmured. “I am a man of eight and thirty, Elizabeth. I have put callow, youthful years behind me. I see the world differently, and how I see you…
Well, it is with a man’s eye, and a man’s appreciation.”
“The blindness is hereditary. My mother had it, as did her mother. Thus far, the males of our family seem to be spared. But I couldn’t guarantee—”
“Shh.” Gripping her hands, he gave them a soft squeeze as they lay on his shoulders. “Elizabeth, you do not have to warn me away.”
“I speak as I find,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
“Then speak of what you find when you look at me.” Reaching for her hands, Julian lifted them from his shoulders. Lizzy allowed her fingers to caress the strong column of his neck, then the hollow of his throat.
“Strong,” she whispered as her fingers crept over his jaws. “Sculpted, like a statue. Angular. Masculine.” He swallowed. They were sitting so close that she could hear it.
“Your lips.” Slowly she allowed the tips of her fingers to
skim over the soft, supple flesh. “You have a mouth made to give pleasure.”
“God, yes,” he said, drawing her closer by wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her gently toward him. They were both mature adults, her firmly on the shelf. There was no cause to be coy, and there was no reason for him not to let her know he appreciated her comments.
“They are not firm and grim, nor cold and cruel.”
“No, not cruel,” he answered, and allowed her further exploration, over his cheeks, his nose, to his eyes, which were fringed in long lashes. He allowed it, withstood it as he held her tight.
“I think I see a very handsome man,” Lizzy announced. “Indeed, a man whom I could very well fancy.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
IAIN PEERED THROUGH the narrow opening in the door.
Blood curdling in his veins, he widened the crack a fraction more and took in the scene before him.
Elizabeth, nearly sitting upon Lord Sheldon’s lap, his arm indecently wrapped around her waist as her generous bosom pressed forward, forcing the man to lift his chin or bury his face in her décolletage.
They were whispering to each other, Elizabeth’s fingers tracing over Sheldon’s face as she discovered him through her fingertips.
Iain had seen her do that before, but never had it been this intimate, this erotic. He was a bastard for watching, he knew. Even more of a bastard for what he was about to do.
He’d left Sussex and Black back in the duke’s study, discussing the details of what they had discovered in Anastasia Lockwood’s house—which amounted to next to nothing. He had excused himself, his friends barely looking up from the papers they studied as he left the room.
He hadn’t been able to stay away from the salon, knowing that Sheldon was here, and that Elizabeth was
“entertaining” him.
They looked so perfect together, and Iain was alarmed to see it. In his mind, it had always been himself he imagined sitting next to her. In her life there would be no other man. But he was a conceited and selfish fool to believe it. He knew she must hold nothing in her heart for him, nothing but a deep, abiding hurt and loathing. Had she done to him what he had done to her, he would be eaten alive with hatred.
She smiled, and Sheldon, still holding her wrists in his hands, pressed in, head angling, mouth lowering. A reckless jealousy engulfed Iain, blinding him to anything but his own needs—and the desire to have another chance to make Elizabeth his. It had been burning in his mind since last night, when Georgiana had made him realize the biggest regret of his life: walking away from Lizzy.
He wouldn’t do it again. Facing the prospect of dying, Iain had finally allowed himself to admit the truth. He wanted Elizabeth York. Needed her in his life. He would not give up until she was his.
“Ah, the tea. I wondered where to find it.” Elizabeth gasped in a most satisfying way, and Sheldon looked up in shock. Then the earl’s eyes flashed with something akin to violence. “You,” he said with a snarl.
“Yes. Me. What the devil are you doing here, Sheldon?”
“I was invited,” he snapped. “And it seems you are not.”
Iain smiled, but it was not one of warmth, but that of a man sizing up the enemy. In Sheldon’s eyes, Iain saw flickering memories of what had transpired between them last night. Good. The man was remembering….
“My lord, please,” Elizabeth chided. “Take the tea and leave.”
“Why, when the entertainment seems to be so much more enjoyable in here?”
Sheldon lunged up from the settee, towering in an impressive rage. Something like admiration lit Iain’s belly.
This man deserved her if he was going to stand up and fight the person who had tried to choke the life out of him the previous evening. Unfortunately for Sheldon, Iain wasn’t giving up his claim to her.
“What do you mean by coming here, my lord?” Elizabeth demanded.
“Am I not welcome?”
“You are not,” she snapped. “You know very well where Sussex is, and he always has a well-stocked tea tray there.”
“Perhaps it’s not Sussex I’m searching for.” Elizabeth frowned, and Iain felt a measure of guilt about creating such a scene. But the monster inside him seemed to goad him on when he saw how Sheldon put a steady, reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“You’re making the lady uncomfortable, Alynwick. I think you should leave.”
“Me? Make the lady uncomfortable? I’ve known her for decades. Perhaps you, Sheldon, are making the lady uneasy. Perhaps you should leave.”
“Ooh, damn you!” Elizabeth cried, and Sheldon didn’t seem to flinch at her language, or her unladylike outburst.
Bloody hell, he was perfect for the strong-willed Elizabeth. Plus he was far nicer than Iain, and much more a gentleman.
He really should leave them be. Elizabeth, after what he’d done to her, and what life had given her, really deserved some measure of peace and happiness. But damn it, he was certain she could find it with him. She had once before. He just needed to find a way to make her trust him. Make her see that he’d been wrong and stupid all those years ago.
“Julian, perhaps you should leave and let me manage this.”
Iain arched an eyebrow. Things had progressed quickly if they were using first names. The knowledge left a rather sour taste in his mouth.
The men exchanged gazes from across the room, and Iain had no difficulty deciphering Sheldon’s silent glare.
But he agreed with a brisk nod. Turning to her, Sheldon reached for her hand, carried it to his mouth and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Thank you for the tea. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed an afternoon more.” She blushed beautifully, the tops of her breasts turning a delicate pink. At one time Iain used to make her blush, used to make that silken flesh above her bodice flush like a pale pink rose, and now, to see another do so, made him want to smash something.
“I hope you will call again soon,” she whispered.
“I was hoping this evening, if you will receive me?”
“I’d like that.”
Another kiss on her knuckles, this one lingering, and then he said quietly, “Till this evening.” With a glare in Iain’s direction, he picked up his hat from the table and breezed past him, but not before he sent Iain a look of warning. It was not over between them. Far from it.
The door closed quietly behind the earl, and Lizzy wasted no time in berating Iain. “Get out. You had your say this morning, and you will be happy to know that I am now banished from contributing to your little group.
You’ve had your way, and now there is nothing more to be said between us.”
“I disagree. There is plenty more to be discussed, if the little scene I stumbled upon is any indication.”
“How dare you!” she snapped.
“How dare I what? Interrupt a most improper kiss during an afternoon call?”
“As if you have any idea of what is proper. You’re ut- terly indecent, Alynwick, and I will not have you coming into my salon and judging what is moral and immoral.”
“You’ve only just met, or so Sussex tells me. Who knows what Sheldon’s true motives are? He might be casting about for an heiress, and you’ve one of the richest dowries in the ton. Or perhaps he’s looking to gain favor with Sussex, who is known for being rather kind and indulgent, using his powers of influence, persuasion and fortune to help those in need of a leg up.”
“Oooh, you filthy beast,” she railed, jumping up from the settee. “Of course there must be motivations behind his call! Of course, for what other reason could there be for him to come and visit a blind spinster?” Iain winced. He had not meant it in such a way. He’d only meant to make her realize she knew nothing about the earl. “You know that’s not what I was implying.”
“Oh, yes, it is. Just because you came to me with motivations does not mean every man thinks the same way.
Not every male on this earth uses people for his own selfish gains and pleasure.”
That hurt
. Like a hammer being swung against his chest. But he deserved nothing less. He had used her.
Shamelessly.
“You live your life in darkness and sin,” she declared.
“You’ve forgotten human kindness and decency. You’ve forgotten what it is to care. You haven’t been around in over a decade—”
“That most certainly is not true,” he growled, but she dismissed his comments with a wave of her hand.
“You’ve floated in and out, coming and going as it pleases you. But you’ve not been present, Alynwick, not in any meaningful way, most certainly not in my life since that summer day you lifted my skirts, took your pleasure and left me alone in the grass.” A muscle in his jaw was twitching. He did not want to stand there and listen to her recriminations, no matter how accurate they were. He despised hearing them, hated himself for doing what he had all those years ago, but most of all, he loathed what he saw in Elizabeth’s beautiful grey eyes.
“You have had no place in my life—by your design—for twelve years,” she said through tight lips. “To enter this room now, when I am entertaining a gentleman, goes beyond the pale. You have no rights. No say. No reason to voice any concerns or objections about the matter. You had that right once, Iain,” she huffed, her body now stiff with righteous anger, “but you didn’t bother with it then, and you cannot now.”
“I know.” What else was there to say? What excuses could be made? If he truly wanted another chance with her he must be honest. To be the polar opposite of what he had been all these years. “You’re right, Beth,” he said, and closed his eyes, savouring her name. The name only he used. The name he whispered when he was on top of her, pleasuring her, driving himself deep inside her.
He’d whispered it in her ear, “Beth…Beth…take more…all of me…” and when she did, when she’d widened her legs and pulled him in deeper, he had whispered, “My Beth,” and had meant every word. She was his. Would always be his.
“What?” she demanded. Her expression was one of confusion, and he couldn’t blame her for it.
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