The Secret Seduction of Lady Eliza

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  And when he thrust up and into her for the final time just as she stroked downward, Eliza knew that her heart would break when this seduction finally drew to a close.

  Chapter Twenty

  It had been three days since Nicholas and Eliza had returned to town from Fairhaven in the hours just before dawn. And once more, no one even realized they had been missing. Nicholas wasn't certain whether to be grateful or annoyed. Eliza, however, was thankful. She did not wish to explain her absence to her brother. Or why she blushed so easily these days. Her parents, she was sad to note, would not likely care. They never had before.

  During that time, Eliza had not managed to sneak off even once with Nicholas, but it wasn't for lack of trying. However something or someone always seemed to hinder their plans, whether it was Lady Sophia who was still furious with her brother and frequently sought out Eliza's counsel, or Lord Raynecourt who seemed to be constantly in need of advice from his old friend, the Duke of Candlewood.

  The previous evening, Eliza and Nicholas had managed to sneak off into Lord Haversham's library during the earl's annual Tulip Ball. There had been some kissing and groping of the most delicious sort but then, as tended to be the case at any Haversham affair, the completely foxed earl retreated to his library to rest. Which had resulted in Nicholas and Eliza having to remain hidden behind the man's movable bookcase for nearly a quarter hour before the earl sobered up enough to move on and return to the party.

  That event had quite cooled their ardor and with a small musicale at Lord and Lady Bixton's on the social calendar for that evening, it was unlikely they would find another moment to be alone for several days.

  For the next night was to be Stephen's grand re-entrance into society and on this day, the Framingham town home was in something of an uproar. Servants hurried to and fro, festooning the house's grand ballroom in all manner of nautical themed decorations. Eliza could tell from Stephen's expression that he was not at all thrilled with them, but, as he was quickly learning, what he wanted mattered little. It was what Lord and Lady Framingham wanted that was of the utmost importance.

  And at the moment, they wanted to announce the return of their son from the dead.

  It was all Eliza could do to stay out of the way as an army of servants, many hired just for the joyous occasion, cleaned, polished, and waxed every available inch of the home. She could not even properly receive visitors, which was why she and Nicholas had gone driving in the park earlier. It was either that or listen to her mother wail about the lack of fresh pheasant in seemingly all of London. Not to mention lower England as well. And in truth, Eliza was a little bored with listing to her mother fret endlessly over the preparations for the grand soirée. Especially when it was abundantly clear that Stephen would have wished the entire event over with already.

  When Nicholas had oh-so-properly returned her to her front door mere moments ago - along with a heated promise that they would find time to be together later - Eliza had loathed the idea of going back into the house alone. She would likely have to retreat to her bedchambers in order to stay out of the way, lest she, too, be polished to within an inch of her life in preparation.

  However, after only a few minutes, Tibbs found her in the family's library - where she had been seeking out some light afternoon reading - where he announced that Lady Sophia had arrived for a visit. A quick glance at her father's favorite old clock indicated that it was, indeed, the height of calling hours. When Eliza was with Nicholas, time rather ceased to have much meaning she had discovered. Especially after their night at Fairhaven.

  "Please, show her in here." Eliza waved a hand in the air as Tibbs merely raised an eyebrow. "It is not proper, I know, but the drawing room is currently in use as my mother's staging area for party decorations. It is either here or my bedchambers and I think the servants have enough to do at the moment without bringing a tea tray all the way up there."

  For as long as anyone could remember, when the Framinghams were in residence in London, Eliza's bedchambers had been far removed from the rest of the family's by a good bit. In later years, what had once been the nursery on the floor above the family's main sleeping quarters had been converted to her own private suite of rooms. For the most part, that had suited Eliza perfectly, but at the moment, she didn't want to add any further aggravation to the lives of the already overworked maids and footmen.

  "Very good, miss." With an elegant bow, Tibbs departed and Eliza set to moving around her father's favorite old leather chairs. They were far more homey and comfortable than the damask covered nightmares her mother had installed in the drawing room several years pervious. Though they had cost a fortune, the drawing room chairs were uncomfortable at best and sheer torture at the worst. How a simple chair could be so poorly designed was beyond Eliza's comprehension, but the so-called "master craftsman" her mother had commissioned them from - after hearing all of the other society matrons brag about his work, of course - had somehow managed the impossible.

  Once the chairs were arranged to her satisfaction, Eliza sat down to wait for her friend. She didn't have to wait long.

  Sophia entered the library with a flourish, her pale blue sprigged muslin day dress the height of fashion. In the past, Eliza might have been far less elegantly attired than her friend at this time of day, but her own sage green driving gown was also new, another confection produced by the talented needle of Madame LaVallier. And Eliza's attire did not go unnoticed by her friend.

  "Out again with Lord Candlewood?" Sophia teased as she greeted her friend, embracing Eliza warmly for a moment. "I can only think that he is the reason for your new frock and none other."

  Self-consciously, Eliza smoothed down her skirts. "It is just a dress, Soph."

  "And it makes you look lovely," Sophia countered as she settled herself into one of the overstuff leather chairs with a sigh. "Not that you were hideous before but..." She trailed off, clearly not wishing to hurt Eliza's feelings.

  "But now I look a bit more fashionable." Eliza settled into her own chair as the tea tray arrived, brought by a relieved maid who was clearly grateful that she did not have to climb an extra set of stairs. "It's all right, Sophie. You can say what you are thinking."

  Sophia considered Eliza for a moment. "No, I don't believe I can. At least not everything that I am thinking." Then she waved a hand in the air. "But it matters not. This courtship has clearly been good for you." Then she gave Eliza a sly look. "Should all of London be hopeful that you are going to be the lady to finally tame The Bloody Duke?"

  It occurred to Eliza to simply continue with the lie. But the Season would draw to a close soon enough. Everyone would know the truth. If they didn't before, though it did not appear that news of her misguided adventure at The Stuck Pig would reach Town anytime soon.

  Moreover, this was Sophia - her best friend. If Eliza could not tell her at least part of the truth, then whom could she trust? Likely no one. And suddenly, Eliza felt the need to unburden herself of at least some of the secrets she had been carrying with her for weeks.

  "It is not like that, Sophie," Eliza finally confessed. "This courtship with Lord Candlewood? It is not..."

  "Proper?" Sophia filled in without waiting for Eliza to finish, a knowing look on her face. "I am well aware of that, Izzy. Especially as I have been required to lie for you several times in the last few days. Telling your family that you were staying with me when you were not." Then she took a sip of her tea and smiled from behind her cup, indicating that she was not truly angry. "Not that I minded. For I am still completely distraught over the turn of events with Lord Selby and your supposed presence offered me the perfect opportunity to have some time alone to think. It was also one more thing to aggravate my arse of a brother. Still, it would have been nice if you would have at least told me. A note, perhaps? Or a messenger?"

  Eliza felt a mix of shame, embarrassment, and relief. She had not meant to involve Sophia in her ruse and told her as much, her cheeks heating with the admission. "Sophie, I
'm sorry. It's just that Nicholas..." She did not quite know how to finish that sentence. He was Nicholas. What more could be said?

  Placing her cup back on the tray, Sophia reached over and squeezed Eliza's hand. "Do not worry yourself on the matter. I understand. I witnessed what Diana went through to be with Lord Hallstone." Then she shrugged. "And I know what I have endured in order to secure my match with Lord Selby. Which will happen. Even if have to murder my sibling in the process. Just know that so long as you are happy, that is all I am concerned about."

  "I am happy," Eliza assured her friend quickly. For it was the truth. She was happy. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she was well and truly happy.

  "It shows." Sophia assessed her for a moment. "You have a glow about you that I have never seen." She grinned. "And you have mostly stopped wearing those infernal, ugly glasses." Then she sobered. "So long as this is what you want, I will lie to the Devil himself if necessary. So is this what you want? Is Lord Candlewood who you want?"

  Eliza licked her lips. How could she answer that without revealing too much of the truth? It was enough that Sophia had lied for her twice already. She would not ask that of her oldest and dearest friend again. "For now." She traced the rim of her teacup with her fingertip. "You are aware that my relationship with Lord Candlewood predates even my friendship with you, correct?"

  Sophia nodded, eyes curious now. "I do. I always found it odd, given his more advanced age. Then I remembered that he was Stephen's friend first."

  "So you will not be surprised to learn that I have had feelings for the man for quite some time." That much was the truth. Eliza had cared for Nicholas in some form since she had been a child.

  Sophia settled back in her chair, considering Eliza carefully before responding. "Not in the least." She crossed her hands primly in front of her. "Actually, I would be more surprised if you did not. He's a very handsome, charming man. Even if he is The Bloody Duke."

  Eliza rose and began to pace, as was her habit. "Over time, those feelings changed but I did not believe I had a chance with him. There was Lady Berkshire, after all." She picked up a piece of paper from her father's desk and began to fold it, worrying the edges with her fingers in nervousness.

  "A doxy if there ever was one." Sophia's words surprised Eliza, but she let them pass. Eliza had believed she was one of the few in society who did not worship at Ellie Reynolds' feet. Given that Sophia and Ellie were distantly related, Eliza would have assumed that her friend was just as enamored of the beautiful young woman as the rest of society had been. "She was not at all what she pretended to be and, in the end, her lies were her downfall."

  "Be that as it may," Eliza continued as if Sophia had not spoken, "I rather put Lord Candlewood out of my mind. Then? One day, he was at a ball. I was at the same ball. We danced and..." She was silent for a moment, remembering that long ago day through a veil of haze, as most memories were after so long. "And we reached an understanding. There is no grand passion between us, Soph. Just knowledge of each other's needs." Another lie, but a necessary one.

  Sophia snorted indelicately and rose from her chair. She crossed the room and plucked the now well-worn paper from Eliza's fingers, casting her friend a reproachful look in the process. "Understanding. My idiot brother has an understanding with his current mistress. And the prostitute he bedded last evening. You, my dear? What you have with Lord Candlewood is not an understanding. Nor is it mere affection and friendship." She softened a bit, her eyes misting over, though Eliza could not fathom why. "You love him. I can see it written so plainly upon your face. That is why I lied for you. The only reason I lied for you. Because that sort of love deserves a chance to be nurtured and take hold. You do love him, don't you?"

  "I don't believe in love." For so long, that had been Eliza's response whenever she was asked about finally becoming betrothed and whether or not she was holding out for a love match. All this time, she had been lying. She knew that now.

  "Posh. Out of all of us, perhaps you believed in love the most. Or at least desired it." Sophia placed the sheet of paper back on the desk and tugged Eliza back towards the chairs. "While I might believe in love, I am also pragmatic enough to know that were my brother not a duke, I would not be able to wed as I pleased. And even now, I still might not be able to do so. Diana, of course, has always been passionate about love and made no secret of her feelings. She expected it as her right and given her status as an Incomparable, that is understandable. But you, Izzy? For so long, you said you did not believe. Yet in your eyes, I saw the longing there. You desired love too. You had simply been hurt so often that you did not even bother to wish for it any longer."

  Sinking back into her chair, Eliza buried her face in her hands for a moment before drawing in a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. It would not do to weep over this. Or allow Sophia to see the true depth of her emotions. "But Nicholas does not love me. He never will. Of that, I can assure you."

  "I am not certain that he knows how to love," Sophia offered. "At least not any longer. But I believe that he did once. And if there is one woman in all of England who can teach him to love again, I do believe that it is you. For as peculiar as that might seem, I believe it is the truth." She grasped Eliza's hand firmly in her own. "The man does care for you, Izzy. It's plain for all to see, really."

  Eliza wanted to argue that caring wasn't love. She wanted to tell Sophia about the two wonderful, magical nights she had found in Nicholas' arms. But that would be admitting too much. It would be admitting that she was already a fallen woman. Ruined. And she could not do that. That was a secret that even Sophia could not keep on Eliza's behalf.

  Instead, Eliza offered her friend what she could. "He does not love me, Soph. But he does need me. I know that much. And it will, I think, have to be enough." The words of need had been practically wrung from his body, but Nicholas had said them. Eliza had no reason to doubt that he meant them.

  And he would need her until the end of the Season. And then no longer. For after that, a betrothal was the only way the two of them could be seen in the same company without inviting scandal. And Nicholas was not inclined to wed her, especially not now that Eliza's courses had begun the day they returned from Fairhaven.

  She was not with child. And was not likely to be so by the end of the Season. When she had given Nicholas the news, she had almost seen him sigh with relief.

  "Suit yourself," Sophia sighed. "Still, I know what I see. And I see a man in love, whether he wants to admit it or not." Then she leaned forward. "But you never answered my question, Izzy. Do you or do you not love Lord Candlewood?

  Eliza wanted to lie. She wanted to tell her friend that she was merely fond of the man. That he did not have so firm of a hold upon her heart that it was unlikely another man could ever claim it. She wanted to say that she had not found the most perfect nights of her life in his arms and in his bed. She wanted to say that she did not love him down to the depths of her very soul.

  But to say any of those things would be to lie again. And given the knowing look on Sophia's face, Eliza could not bear to lie to her best friend. Not about this. It would be wrong. Especially after Sophia had risked so much to keep Eliza's secret.

  "I do," Eliza finally confessed softly. "I love him so much that it hurts sometimes. But he will never love me in return. It is not in his nature. And I am aware of that. I accept it as well." She ran her hands over the soft, worn leather of the chair's arms, as if seeking reassurance from the furniture. "And I am also aware that whatever we share in this moment might be fleeting at best." That was as close as she could come to admitting the truth.

  "For both of your sakes, I hope that is not true," Sophia responded. "If the two of you do not embrace what exists between you, then you are both fools of the highest order." Then she gave a peculiar little smile. "And I have never known The Bloody Duke to be a fool. No matter how many mistakes he has made over the years."

  Later that evening as Theresa was helping h
er dress for the musicale, Eliza could not help but recall Sophia's words. It rather seemed to imply that the other woman had some sort of knowledge about Nicholas' past activities that Eliza did not.

  It was possible, certainly, for as a member of the Reynolds family, both Sophia and Ellie would likely have been at the same events. Family ones that Eliza would not have been a part of. Had Sophia witnessed something that she had not shared with the rest of society? Or Eliza? Again, it was possible. Sophia and her family would not welcome a scandal if Ellie was caught making a misstep. And until recently, Eliza did not have a true relationship of any sort -private or otherwise - with the esteemed Duke of Candlewood. Therefore, there would be no reason to speak up, not even to Eliza.

  Sophia had also called the late Ellie Berkshire a doxy. That rather implied that the woman had been a bit loose with her morals and her favors. Eliza knew that even after Ellie and Berkshire had wed, the woman had spent at least one night with Nicholas. But did Sophia's words imply that there were others? Men that perhaps even Nicholas did not know about?

  But that was impossible, or almost so, because Nicholas had a vast information network at his disposal. If Ellie had bedded another man, Nicholas was likely to already know about it.

  And it wasn't any of Eliza's business anyway. It wasn't as if she was truly going to be Nicholas' wife.

  "Combs or the pearls tonight?" Theresa asked as she held Eliza's thick hair up for inspection. The maid had been taking hair dressing lessons and had become quite accomplished in the art in recent days.

  But despite the fact that she was seated in front of her dressing table, Eliza looked into the mirror but did not see her own reflection. Instead all she saw was Ellie Berkshire as she had been last Season, all dark colors and seductive glances in Nicholas' direction as she began to finally emerge from mourning.

  And once more, Eliza's jealousy flared to life. For one irrational moment, she hated the woman. She hated Ellie for toying with Nicholas and almost costing him his life on the dueling field. She hated the woman for whatever deception she had played in order to marry a man nearly four times her age, a marriage that had broken Nicholas' heart. For there was no doubt in Eliza's mind that Ellie's father would most likely have been willing to wait a few more years for Nicholas to reach full maturity if it meant the difference between his daughter snagging a duke instead of a marquess. Unless for some reason, the man's daughter had forced his hand.