His Unsuitable Viscountess

by Michelle Styles

  ‘Eleanor!’ he cried again when she failed to respond.

  Eleanor lay asleep, her head resting on a stack of papers, fountain pen clenched in her right hand. At her feet, Romeo dozed. Her blue gown had slipped slightly, revealing the cream of her shoulder. Her dark hair tumbled about in disarray. Utterly appealing. Most definitely off-limits. He had to give it time.

  Ben’s body disagreed. His nights had been tormented by the memory of their lovemaking. Even her lavender scent clung to the bed. And now it was clear, despite her promises, Eleanor was working too hard. His stomach clenched. Despite all his own promises about keeping his distance he knew it was impossible. Someone needed to look after her before she harmed herself.

  ‘Eleanor...Ellie?’ he called. ‘Time for you to go to bed and rest properly.’

  She stretched slightly and blinked her sleep-filled eyes. Her breast jutted out and his groin tightened. He wanted to strip her bare. Ben struggled to keep hold of his libido.

  ‘I only rested my eyes for a moment, and it isn’t late.’ She absentmindedly rubbed at an ink blotch. ‘I wanted to get my ideas for redesigning the lower terrace written down.’

  ‘The lower terrace can be redesigned in the winter. What did you think about Mr Johnson’s suggestion for the type of iron for the Bow Street Runners order?’

  Her brow furrowed. ‘It is one solution. I shall have to think on it. There is no hurry.’

  Ben raised a brow. ‘And the new lady’s rapier? Mr Johnson wants to know if it should be included in the autumn catalogue.’

  She winced. ‘I can’t even begin to think about that now. It is far too hard a decision. In the morning, perhaps.’

  He held out his hand and willed her to take it. Things had to change. Day by day the strong woman who had challenged him to a duel was slipping away and this person who professed interest in the domestic scene was replacing her. If he didn’t know that his mother was in London he’d have accused her of meddling. But as it was it was a mystery. Something had to be done to

  reignite Eleanor’s interest in her business.

  ‘Redesigning the terrace has to be done when I think on it.’ She put her hands behind her back. ‘Sometimes it feels like my brain is made of porridge.’

  ‘Let me take you back to your bedroom.’

  He’d take her and leave her. She needed to rest rather than to be distracted. Or worse. And his body singularly failed to realise that being with her was bad for her. He forced steadying breaths. ‘Be sensible, Ellie. You will be more wide awake in the morning.’

  ‘Nobody calls me Ellie. Ever.’ Her teeth worried at her bottom lip, turning it a deep pink. ‘Not since my grandfather died.’

  ‘It is about time someone did.’ He gave in to temptation and put his hand on her shoulder. Her flesh quivered under his fingertips. It took all of his will-power not to crush her to him.

  ‘Why should I have a pet name?’

  She ducked her head. A single dark curl caressed his hand. His body became physically painful. He abruptly released his hand.

  ‘You most certainly don’t look like the fearsome harridan who is reputed to run Moles with an iron fist.

  Neither do you look like the Eleanor who challenged me to a duel and took unholy delight in crushing my hubris. I think the name Ellie suits you when you are all sleepy-eyed like this. Is there something wrong with that?’

  She peeked back over her shoulder. Her grey eyes glowed. ‘Should I like being Ellie? I am determined to change.’

  ‘Yes, most definitely.’ He forced a smile but a vague disquiet came over him. Why was Eleanor trying to change? ‘There is no need for you to change. I meant I’m enjoying discovering the woman behind the various masks you wear. The true you.’

  ‘And you do like what you see?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I will keep that under consideration.’

  ‘Please do.’

  Ben clenched his jaw. He might like the woman behind the various masks, but would she like him if she knew the truth? Perhaps he should have told her before now, but he could not bear to think that he’d look less in her eyes.

  Something had to be done fast to stop her from twisting herself into knots. The need to confess grew within him, but he knew if he did he’d lose her. At least this way she was here with him. He could protect her.

  ‘And what should I do now?’

  ‘You should go to bed. Alone. You need your sleep.’ Letting her go was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

  * * *

  ‘Am I an Ellie, Romeo?’ Eleanor gazed at the small silver-backed mirror and wrinkled her nose. ‘What sort of person am I? Does Ben find me attractive or is he wishing he could leave? Do you think if I continue to pretend an interest in the domestic scene he will become interested in me?’

  Romeo made a non-committal grunt and went back to pursuing a bit of fluff around her bedroom.

  She wrapped her paisley shawl tighter about her body and concentrated on the mirror. The last thing she wanted him to know about was her concern for his well-being—particularly after he’d rejected her so emphatically last night. The last thing she wanted to seem was pathetic, but she had hoped that he’d understand she wanted affection and forgiveness for losing the baby.

  She reached for the well-thumbed list and started to read Lady Whittonstall’s rules again, to see if she’d missed any insight.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Ellie,’ Ben said, coming into the room. ‘I thought you would have been downstairs, writing out an answer for Mr Johnson. Are you feeling quite the thing?’

  Eleanor shoved Lady Whittonstall’s list under her handkerchiefs. She glanced at the small clock. It was far later than she had considered. At the open door, Romeo gave a smart swish of his tail and disappeared.

  ‘Is there some reason you are here?’ she asked, keeping her voice carefully neutral.

  ‘I’ve come up with a solution to your problem.’ Ben rocked back on his heels. A wide smile cut across his face. ‘It has been perplexing me for ages, and I finally figured it out when Cartwright was shaving me. Someone needs to go to London and speak to the Bow Street Runners about this order.’

  ‘Someone?’ The word tasted like ash in her mouth. She knew what someone was code for—him. ‘You want to go to London?’

  ‘It is the perfect solution. All these letters going back and forth by packet. Mr Johnson is beside himself with guessing. If someone goes and speaks to them the perfect cutlass can be designed and executed in next to no time.’

  Her stomach ached but she refused to give way to tears. How could she demonstrate that she’d changed if he went away?

  Dignity in all things. She knew what his words were code for and now that he said them she found she had been expecting them for ages.

  ‘You want to go without me. There is no need to be polite, Ben. I completely understand. You have duties and obligations that call you away from here. It is to be expected.’

  He stopped and gave her a curious look. ‘What nonsensical tale are you spinning, Ellie? Why on earth would anyone with half a brain think anybody but you could go?’

  Her heart thudded in her ears. ‘You want me to go to London? On my own?’

  ‘I was rather hoping we could travel together.’ His brow lowered. ‘Why would you think I wanted to be away from you? Do you think I am a monster?’

  Eleanor drew a deep breath and knew she had to say it. ‘Because it was my fault that I lost the baby. There is so much I regret, but my thoughts keep circling back to the same thing—I should have taken better care of myself. You said last night you thought I had changed, and I am determined I shall. You are not a monster. I am the one who was so ignorant that I didn’t even guess I was pregnant until it was too late. I could have done so many things.’

  ‘You feel guilty over th
at?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Guilt can eat at your soul. I know. Trust me on this. Forget it. Let it go.’

  ‘I can’t. I’ve tried. I keep thinking about our fencing match and wondering. If I was more ladylike, if I had behaved correctly, would things have been different? I’m determined not to make the same mistake.’

  He gave her a terrible stare that chilled her to the bone. ‘You did nothing, Eleanor. But perhaps you are right. Perhaps it would be better for both of us if I left. There were two people in that match and we both should have known about the possibility. Me more than you.’

  ‘What are you saying, Ben?’

  ‘You were happy before. You will be again. You have saved Moles. That is what you wanted.’

  ‘That is what I wanted then.’

  He cocked his head to one side. ‘Your desires have changed?’

  He put his hand on the door and Eleanor knew if she allowed him to go her marriage would be truly over. And she was the one who had put the idea in his head.

  ‘Why have you lived with guilt? Why is it destroying you even now?’ she cried, holding out her hands. ‘Why should I think you are a monster? Give me a reason, Ben. Why do you think we should part? If you told me maybe I could understand—because right now I have a hard time understanding.’

  Ben looked at her for a long time. The time had come. She could hardly think any worse of him than she already did. She needed to know the full, ugly truth. He braced himself. ‘I was driving Alice in my carriage when it hit a pothole. Alice was thrown against the side. The jolt sent her into early labour and neither she nor the baby survived.’

  He waited for the repulsion. She folded her hands on her lap and looked up at him.

  ‘Did you mean to hit the pothole?’ she asked finally. ‘London is full of potholes.’

  ‘I was driving too fast. That was half the fun of it—hearing her mock shrieks of horror as we bounced. She’d cling to my arm.’ He closed his eyes and saw Alice’s features as she pleaded to stay. ‘Alice was not the bravest of souls, but she did enjoy things once she started them. I always had to coax her.’

  ‘What was Alice like?’

  ‘She was perfection. We were young and very much in love. A golden couple who were touched by the gods. In my youth and arrogance I thought I was the happiest anyone could be. I was wrong.’ He bowed his head and admitted the truth. ‘There were so many things that I didn’t understand about her. Things I could have helped her with if she had let me know or if I had opened my eyes. But she kept her fears to herself and pretended that everything was glorious. She worked very hard to make everything seem effortless. And she felt that having a baby and preserving the Grayson dynasty was her most important task. It consumed her when she failed to fall pregnant. And then when she did finally become pregnant worry overrode her joy. She shrank from me and it made me angry. I told her that I was tired of her, that she exhausted me with her emotional needs.’

  ‘What happened on that ride, Ben? Before you hit the pothole?’

  ‘We were laughing. I’d had the idea that I needed to bring her out of herself—I suggested the ride. Alice seemed happier than she had in ages. We were going to repeat the drive every day.’

  ‘For the baby’s sake rather than for hers?’

  ‘Yes.’ Ben winced at her gentle tone. He didn’t deserve her understanding. ‘Everyone was very kind. Sometimes these things happen. My driving wasn’t to blame. Those were the most common expressions of sympathy. Everyone kept telling me that it was a terrible tragedy. But I knew. I knew what my last words to her were. The last thing I said to her. The last thing she said to me.’

  ‘No, that is wrong,’ she said in a fierce tone. ‘She would have heard you when you struggled to save her.’

  Ben stared at her in astonishment. She hadn’t recoiled. Or, worse, made sympathetic noises about the awfulness of the thing. ‘How do you know I did that?’

  ‘Because I know you.’ Her chin lifted and there was a flash of the old spirit in her eyes. ‘Because you never give in. You would have urged her to fight. You would have done everything possible. You are no coward, Benjamin Grayson. I saw that the day you saved Mr Swaddle. Was the baby a boy or a girl? I like to think the baby we lost was a girl.’

  ‘A boy,’ he said slowly. It was the first time anyone had asked him that. Mostly they spoke about Alice, not the baby. And Eleanor giving the baby they had lost a sex made it more real to him. ‘A perfect little boy, whose only fault was that he was born too soon.’

  ‘Did you give him a name?’

  ‘Alice had wanted to call him after my father—Charles. The gravestone has both names.’

  ‘I would like to see it some day. Will you take me there?’

  The bed sagged under his weight. He buried his face in his hands. She had seen something in him that he’d refused to see and had tried to keep out of his life. She hadn’t recoiled. She had understood. ‘When we go to London. When the time is right.’

  ‘You are right. The Bow Street Runners order should be seen to. We can go by packet. It is the quickest way.’

  He gave a half-smile. ‘Now she tells me. The post coach up here nearly shook my teeth from my mouth.’

  ‘You only had to ask. Travelling by boat is easier. It is how I send the swords. We can leave as soon as practicable. Mr Johnson can be in charge until we return.’

  ‘I bow to your superior wisdom.’

  ‘Tell me more about Alice,’ she said. ‘I want to know.’

  The story spilled out of him. How he’d always protected Alice because she’d seemed to worship the ground he walked on. How they’d fallen in love. How she’d put him first and given in to his wishes even when she hadn’t wanted to. How he’d found her diary and realised far too late that he could have done more in the marriage. Things he’d never confided in anyone. But once he’d started he found it impossible to stop. And all the while Eleanor remained silent and inscrutable. He told her about everything except his growing feelings for her.

  ‘There you have it. I have lived with the guilt ever since. You can call me a monster now.’ He waited for her to order him out of her life.

  ‘You should have told me before,’ she said slowly. ‘I deserved to know but was too scared to ask.’

  ‘I didn’t want you to think less of me.’

  A crease appeared between her brows. ‘And now? Why tell me now?’

  ‘Because it means more to me that you think well of yourself. Never doubt that our baby was real. It simply wasn’t her time to be born. I find it is the only thing that helps me.’

  A single tear trickled down her cheek. Ben reached out and captured it. Her lips turned up into a trembling smile.

  ‘You were wrong. I don’t think less of you. I wish you had told me before. It would have helped me to understand.’ She put her hand to his face. Her mind whirled. She had not expected that Ben carried that sort of guilt, and yet the clues had been there. She had been wilfully blind. Lady Whittonstall was correct about one thing. Until she knew the full story their marriage was doomed to repeat his past mistakes. And she did have to learn about the world Ben inhabited. She didn’t deserve Ben. Not yet. But some day she would ensure he regained some of the happiness of his youth.

  His hand covered hers. Strong and warm. Her entire being tingled at his nearness. She took a deep breath and tried to control it. She needed to do something to show him that he wasn’t a monster. Mouthing words was not enough.

  He’s going to kiss me. The knowledge thrummed into her, making that curl of desire flare even higher, and she knew what she had to do. Her lips parted. ‘Kiss me, Ben. Please.’

  With a soft sigh he lowered his mouth and captured hers, demanding a response. Fierce and hot.

  A tremor went through her and she knew this was why she’d had the rest
less feeling earlier. She wanted to kiss him back. She opened her mouth and slid her tongue under his top lip, teasing his teeth. His arms convulsed about her, pulling her against his body.

  She sucked in her breath as her body hit his arousal—evidence, if she wanted it, that he wanted her. She longed to melt against him and give herself to his ministrations. She wanted to go to that place that only he could send her. But...

  She tried to cling to her sanity and ignore this rushing feeling of heat. When she’d thought about making love to him it had always been like before—in the comfort of their bedroom at night. Not in the middle of the morning. Somehow it seemed unbelievably wicked and wanton. And precisely what she wanted.

  ‘Ben, you need to think about what time of day it is,’ she said, trying to be sensible.

  His face took on a wicked glint. He traced a finger down her throat, causing butterfly sensations in her stomach. ‘No one will disturb us.’

  Eleanor took a deep breath as his words reverberated through her. No one was here. She couldn’t use convention as a shield. She must live in this moment. Nothing else mattered except that he was here. With her. But she knew the invitation had to come from her. She had to be the one to take charge.

  She wound her arms about his neck. ‘As long as we don’t make a habit of it, I suppose there is no harm...in sharing another kiss.’

  ‘You suppose?’ His hands worked at the back of her dress, undoing the tiny pearl buttons as his mouth made an open-mouthed trail down her neck. He nuzzled the point where her throat reached her shoulder, sending fresh waves of desire coursing through her body. ‘Care to wager on that?’

  Tiny flames licked at her insides, enveloping her in their primitive warmth. He wanted to wager with her. Her heart sang. It was time to trust her instincts. She wanted this. Here. Now.

  ‘We both win with a kiss.’

  Eleanor brushed his mouth with hers, slowly exploring the contours of his lips. She allowed her body to say all the things that she had not dared to say before.