by Naomi Boom
She stepped from her room, closed the door, and crept down the stairs. The halls were empty but still lit. She passed the smaller parlor and heard the voices of Lord and Lady Gammon. After pausing to listen for Logan’s voice, she continued on her way. He must be in the library.
The wind blew, and the house creaked as it settled. She did not like venturing about large houses when she was all alone, especially at night. She reached the library and was dismayed to see it was unoccupied. He could be in the kitchens, but she rather doubted it. She departed from the library when a soft voice interrupted her thoughts and caused her to jump.
“My lady.”
Eleanor whirled around to find the butler hovering in the hall. Her heart raced from the unexpected encounter. “I was just getting some milk.”
“Of course, my lady.” He bowed, and she hurried away to the kitchens. Her search for the night was finished. She would just have to wait until morning to talk to Logan. After filling a glass with milk, she returned to her room and shut the door behind her. Her little foray had accomplished nothing, and now she was bound to have a sleepless, tortuous night.
****
“Your Grace.”
Logan was surprised by the voice calling to him from outside his room. He rushed to the door and opened it to find his butler on the other side. “What did I tell you about calling me by my title?”
His butler blanched and said, “I apologize, Your Grace, but I have information for you. It appears your lady was wandering the halls.”
Logan cocked his head at the odd piece of information. “Did she look all right?”
“I cannot say for sure, but she looked a trifle peaked.”
Logan nodded his appreciation. “Thank you, I believe I should check on the lady. It would be remiss of me as a host to allow her to suffer.”
“Of course.”
“You should go to bed now. There’s no need for you to stay up so late.” It was best if the household was asleep when he went to visit Ellie.
His butler closed the door, and Logan drew on a robe. His visit would be quick, but his concern necessitated he check on her, no matter the duration. She had not come down for dinner, which had perturbed him. Hopefully, she did not regret her declaration of love.
No one saw him as he went to her room, although he wouldn’t care if he was seen, unless it was by the chaperone. That would not be pleasant. After knocking, he waited a moment until the door inched open to reveal two large blue eyes peering out at him. He frowned at the sight of her wan skin and the worry etched on her brow.
He slipped in, and she smiled with relief as she closed the door. The firelight played across her features and reminded him of the night they met. Even the scent of the rain drifting in through her window led him to reminisce, and suddenly, all he could see was his water nymph.
“I am so happy you are here. We have something very important to discuss.”
“Of course, dearest, but first things first.” He swept her into his arms and reveled in the feel of her. She was right where she belonged. He frowned as he realized she had her hands pressed against him. She gave a push, and he stepped back.
“This is serious. I must speak with you.”
Her resistance was not the response he expected from her, and he tensed. Her tone was foreboding, and he prepared himself for whatever dire news she would impart.
She turned from him and went to the windowsill. He pivoted to watch her but otherwise remained immobile as she traced the wooden ledge with her finger.
“My aunt came to visit me this afternoon. She guessed my feelings for you and told me I was foolish for loving you.” Her breath caught. She looked so small and dainty as she shook her head and brought her arms around herself in a tight embrace. “She confirmed my fears. Mother and Father will never permit our union and, if we wed anyway, will likely refuse to deliver my dowry.”
Silence descended as she continued to hug herself with her eyes shut tight, waiting for his answer. Her vulnerability had never been so evident, and he rushed to her side. Her dowry meant nothing to him. Nothing mattered, except that she love him, and he love her.
He needed to see her clearly when he asked her his next question, so he turned her to him. A small tear shone in the firelight as it made its way down her face. He brushed the tear away, while interlacing her hand in his. “Do you still wish to marry me?”
She nodded as another tear escaped. “I know my dowry is important, and I will understand if you no longer want me. If money were not a concern, I would suggest we elope, but no one is rich enough to throw aside twenty thousand pounds.”
Her voice was hollow and disheartened. How long had she worried about this before seeking him out? “My sweet, darling Ellie. In the future, if you are worried about something, come to me immediately. Why worry when there is no reason?”
Her gaze met his, and she nodded. “I shall, if there is a next time.”
“Of course there will be a next time, so long as you will have me. While your dowry would be agreeable, it is not necessary.”
“But what of my aunt? Maybe my dream of supporting her is foolish, but I had always hoped…” Her voice trailed off, ending in a shudder which racked her body.
“I would gladly support such an important person in your life.” And he would. He would do whatever necessary to ensure her happiness.
Her eyes turned up to his, and her face was transformed by relief. The corners of her lips tugged up in a smile, and he pulled her closer to him as his heart leapt. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he held her, each rise and fall of her chest reminding him to breathe lest he forget himself.
His moment of bliss cracked as he remembered the words she said. If they went to Gretna Green, he could wait to reveal his identity until they married. He was mildly concerned that if he revealed himself now, she would get angry with him and delay the wedding, and that would not do.
“My love,” he murmured. At his words, she straightened, bringing her eyes to meet his. “You suggested we might elope. Were you in earnest?”
“Yes. It may be the only way we can marry.”
“Then we will depart tomorrow.” He nuzzled her neck as his heart raced. He would be a married man in a matter of days and to his Ellie, no less. He had never thought to long for his wedding day, but he did now.
She giggled as his lips skimmed her collarbone. “Stop it, you are tickling me.”
Nuzzling her neck once more, he reveled in the feel of her writhing against him from his touches. He brought his lips to hers as a breeze drifted through the window and caused her to shiver. It would not do for her to get cold, so he guided her to the bed where the canopy sheltered them from the chill.
As he laid her down on the bed, he brought himself over her while continuing the kiss. She latched onto his robe and pulled him toward her, arching up to meet him in her eagerness. His hands roamed over her body, and when she made her throaty little sounds, he made sure to remember where he had touched to elicit such a response. When he finished tasting her as he wished, he returned to those spots, paying extra attention when she reacted so enticingly again.
Every part of her was fire, and the more she dropped her guard, the more passionate she grew. Each guttural sound she uttered drove him further into madness, nearer and nearer to the brink of complete abandon. Until, at last, he reined himself in, pulling up and away from this siren beneath him.
Her clouded eyes regarded him in dazed confusion at his abrupt departure. Her blonde hair lay about her in a puddle on the mattress, and he wished he could keep her just like that, forever in his mind.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice husky and lips swollen.
He smiled and stroked the side of her face. “I must leave. Otherwise I will be unable to.”
Her lips curled into a smile, and she whispered, “Stay with me.”
“You do not understand what you ask of me.” He could not breathe. Not when every fiber of his being waited for her answ
er. He longed to stay, even if it was just to hold her, but his nymph was not meant to simply hold, and it would be a torturous night indeed.
She placed her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him to her. “Of course I understand. Stay with me.”
He was lost in those light blue orbs, and he allowed her to pull him to her. “I am yours to command, my love.” Then, all rational thought left his brain and he kissed her.
Chapter 10
The luxurious sheets slipped in a tantalizing whisper against Eleanor’s naked skin as she stretched and rolled over to find Logan had departed. It was best for everyone if the pair’s indiscretions remained undiscovered, at least until they were properly married.
The sun had barely crested the horizon, but Eleanor was awake and energized. Her light blonde hair lay in a tumbled mess around her, and with her stretch, she could feel an oddly pleasant soreness from her night with Logan. Who knew a night with a man could be so delightful? She had asked Logan that exact question, and all he did was laugh while looking immensely pleased with himself.
She rolled out of bed, donned her robe, and noted the rumpled sheets on the floor. She would try to put them back in some semblance of order. Otherwise, Olivia would know something had happened. Before attempting to set things to right, Eleanor would first capture the moment in the only way she could, on paper.
She sat on a chair and propped her sketchbook on her lap. She traced the edges of the large canopied bed in all its soiled, amply used glory and relaxed at the familiar sound of her charcoal stick scratching against the paper. She didn’t bother to capture the entire room, only the bed as if it were suspended in air.
The bed itself signaled such a major change in her life. She was ruined, and even if she wished to marry another gentleman, she couldn’t. She was forever bound to Logan, for better or worse. Assuming he married her, of course.
She continued to trace the canopy of the bed and tried not to think about the chance she could be ruined. All her life, she had judged the ladies that were compromised, not that there were many, but she had never understood why they allowed a man to take their most precious commodity before the wedding. And now, here she was in the same predicament but with one exception. Logan would marry her.
They had a plan for their elopement, and it was perfect. They would leave after Mrs. Westfield retired for the evening, and her chaperone would not realize what transpired until morning, maybe even later. At that point, if Mrs. Westfield managed to alert Eleanor’s parents, Eleanor would be too far gone for them to intercept.
Eleanor smiled as she surveyed her work. A cursory sketch of the bed was on the paper, and the rest of the details were engraved in her mind. Despite her ruination, she held no regrets. Logan was the one for her.
No other gentleman would understand her the way he did or could boast the numerous favorable qualities he had. In fact, he was almost too good for her. She almost laughed aloud at the thought. Who would have guessed, Miss Eleanor Ashford could think a gentleman too good for her? It was almost inconceivable, yet Logan was just that marvelous.
With a loud yawn, she returned her sketch back to the desk and slipped into bed. The time was much too early to venture downstairs, and she found herself suddenly in need of sleep. She drifted off, feeling almost as if she were back in Logan’s strong and capable arms. Warm and comfortable, she once again congratulated herself for her choice in suitor. She was in love and would choose his love in return over any title.
****
The clock struck half past ten when Eleanor woke, ready to face the day. Much to her dismay, the sheets were still in a puddle on the floor. She had forgotten to tidy before returning to her slumber. Before she could slide from beneath the canopy, a knock sounded and Oliva entered, looking refreshed and cheery.
“Good morning, my lady.” Olivia stopped at the sight of the sheet on the floor, and her eyes came to rest on Eleanor. Suddenly self-conscious, Eleanor brought her hand to her head and realized why Olivia appeared so put-out. Her hair was a mess. Oliva must know what had transpired in that room.
Olivia turned from her with a small smile on her lips and rang the bell for tea. Neither said a word, not even when Eleanor slipped from the bed, wearing her robe. Olivia was no simpleton, and Eleanor had worn a dress the previous day which was impossible to remove without aid.
Olivia’s grin intensified, and then she hurried to her task of seeing Eleanor dressed and ready for the day. Tea arrived shortly after, and the pair proceeded as usual, with one exception: Eleanor could not seem to focus on her hair or anything else for that matter. Her mind had been seized by Logan.
Every time she had considered Logan’s suit, she had dismissed him for his lack of title. She remained firm in her resolve, even after he kissed her and made her feel like a princess in a fairy tale. She had not prepared herself adequately for that moment on the bench, when she learned the sheer intensity of his feelings for her.
In that moment, she knew she loved him, as much as he loved her. She also knew she could not let him go. Not for riches, or any other material force one might try to sway her with. After all, what were jewels in a lifetime of misery, but cold companions? She would trade such extravagances for the warmth of Logan’s love any day.
Olivia slid a final pin in Eleanor’s coiffure, and Eleanor stood. The clock chimed, indicating it was before luncheon. She already missed Logan’s company and would go down to the library for a book. If she happened upon him, so be it.
The rain had stopped sometime last night, and as she stepped from her room, she inhaled. The house smelled of spring, with both the scent of wet earth and a promise of warmth. She drifted down to the library, and as she approached, the soft laughter of a woman and the corresponding answer of a man’s deep voice carried to her. The door was wide open, and she entered to find Logan seated with Lord and Lady Gammon.
Her pulse quickened at the sight of Logan in his riding attire, but she hid her response with a demure curtsy. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, my lady.” Logan rose and bowed. He stepped to her side and placed a kiss on her hand as he whispered, “I trust you slept well.”
Her cheeks heated to a startling temperature, and Eleanor could only nod. She was not ready for references about last night, so she glared at him. Truly, he deserved much more punishment than the angry look she shot him, but it would do for now.
Lady Gammon’s lilting voice broke Eleanor’s moment of agony as she said, “Logan, stop pestering the girl. I don’t know what you have done to the poor thing, and I doubt I want to know.” She pushed her husband away from her, beckoning Eleanor to join her. “Come, sit. We can have a coze before lunch.”
Eleanor joined Lady Gammon on the sofa and gave her a grateful smile. The countess looked particularly pretty in a heather-green day dress this morning and must have caught up on some rest.
“Has your sickness abated?”
“For the most part,” Lady Gammon said with an incline of her head. “My morning sickness started quite early on, you know. Some women are like that, while others experience no sickness whatsoever.”
“How peculiar.” Eleanor would have never guessed such a thing as morning sickness even existed. Maybe that was why pregnant women tended to stay hidden in the country.
“Oh yes,” Lady Gammon murmured. She smoothed aside a wayward curl of her glossy dark hair and asked with interest, “Have you formulated a plan to win back your cousin yet?”
Eleanor sighed. “None other than what I have been doing. Someday, when I am in London, I will work up the courage to stop by for a visit.”
Lady Gammon nodded her head in sympathy. “I was thinking on the matter last night. You mentioned you had insulted your cousin’s sister-in-law. Might I suggest making amends with her first? That way your cousin will believe you feel remorseful.”
Eleanor cringed and shifted in her seat at the uncomfortable notion. She had no desire to face Miss Farris, but she supposed she must. She glance
d at Logan, deep in conversation with Lord Gammon, and softened. If she was to begin a new life with Logan, couldn’t she also turn a new page in her dealings with those around her?
Eleanor regarded Lady Gammon with a scowl. “Very well, but if I am not in London in the near future”—which she had no intention of being—“then a letter will have to suffice.”
“I think those terms are agreeable.” Lady Gammon nodded toward the gentlemen and leaned nearer to Eleanor. “Now, how difficult do you imagine it would be to convince everyone to partake of some dancing tonight? I was thinking of arranging a little party after dinner.”
“I am sure they would acquiesce if you ask them.” Eleanor quite liked the idea of a small, intimate soiree.
Lady Gammon nodded. She appeared lost in thought as she turned once more to look at Logan and Lord Gammon. “How are things progressing between the two of you?”
Eleanor’s cheeks heated again, and Lady Gammon laughed. “I had thought you blushed excessively when you greeted Logan. I am not about to ask what transpired between you, but have you decided to marry him? Has he asked?”
Eleanor glanced down to her hands neatly folded in her lap. She could confide in Lady Gammon, but should she? So far, the countess had seemed genuine in her interest toward Eleanor, so she squared her shoulders and looked the countess in the eye. “Yes, he offered, and I accepted, but I am worried my parents will not approve. They have always held much higher aspirations for me, you know.”
Lady Gammon’s eyes sparkled with excitement and she squealed. “Oh! I just knew this would happen. I am so very excited for the both of you.” Then, she lowered her volume and whispered, “I cannot understand why your parents should disapprove of Logan. He has lofty connections and is quite rich. Yes, a baronet does not hold a seat in parliament, but that is only a minor issue.”