To Love in Silence (Currents of Love Book 3)

by Emilee Harris

  Eric looked at her, but her attention had gone back to the carpet. He failed to see how she could've gotten turned around, given the sunroom was a straight shot down this hall.

  “And what, pray tell, took you away from the sunroom?” He stepped in close to her side, handing back the notebook as he watched her profile. Her breathing quickened and he imagined a corresponding jump in the pulse at her throat, wishing he could produce such reactions in her through far different means.

  She’d been outside the study. Her reactions proved her guilt, but not necessarily ill-intent. A tremor hindered the speed of her written response, but Eric stood close enough now he could read over her shoulder and avoid passing the paper back and forth. He angled slightly behind her to get the best view of her writing, his entire body warming at her nearness as well as if he’d stood in front of a blazing hearth.

  I went in search of ribbon for our garlands.

  “And did you find it?” He leaned around her shoulder, allowing her a better view of his face, but not giving up his reading location.

  Her hands took up trembling in earnest, he brought one of his up to cover them before she dropped the notebook. She swayed into him, he brought his other arm up across her back, hand curving along her ribs to steady her. She tilted her head back to look at him.

  Eric felt as though he were moving in a fog. What was it he’d asked? When had his heart begun to race? He couldn’t manage to see past those perfect rosy lips poised so close...

  Ribbon. His sense of self-preservation sounded a moment before he would have leaned in to close the gap between them. Eloise was outside the study while you spoke to Mallory. She dropped the ribbon.

  Forcing himself back, he took a breath and cleared his throat, returning to stand a respectable distance in front of Eloise. “I believe you dropped this along your way.” He procured the length of ribbon from his pocket and held it out to her.

  Eloise blinked, staring at the offering uncomprehending a moment before her eyes lit with recognition and she looked down at her own hands as though wondering when they’d lost hold of the item.

  “Thank you,” she nodded, not bothering to write the sentiment and not watching for his comprehension. She held out his notebook in exchange. They traded items, and a brief surge of heat ran through Eric again at the fleeting touch of their hands.

  He didn’t attempt to stop Eloise from darting out the door and disappearing down the hall, too confused by the thoughts and sensations rattling through him. Whatever power this was she held over him, it could prove very dangerous. What worried him more, however, was the fact it didn’t bother him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “WHAT THE DEVIL ARE you doing?” Eric walked into the drawing room to a scene of comic proportion as Sir Thomas balanced atop a chair, leaning precariously across to a space along the wall holding what looked like a massively inconvenient wreath of evergreen foliage.

  Sarah stood off to the side and slightly back, a small fist on her hip, chin pinched between her fingers as she squinted up at Mallory's work shaking her head.

  Mallory relaxed back to a more stable position, still holding the wreath but dismounting the chair and setting the item carefully on a side table. Turning to Eric, he began to sign, “Thank goodness you've arrived! My Savior!”

  He shied away from Sarah’s glare.

  “I had the bloody misfortune of wandering into this room in search of you and running into Miss. Sarah, who immediately decided she hadn't the time to wait on calling a footman to help her in her holiday preparations. A moment later and I would have met my untimely demise crashing headlong through the window.”

  Sarah made a look of annoyance from where she stood now behind Mallory as Eric raised a brow at him. “Then it would have been your own doing, for as I recall, you were the one who suggested getting these two masterminds together to make the most of the season.”

  Chuckling, Mallory slapped Eric on the shoulder. “Truly though, is it not exceptional what these ladies have done with the place?”

  Eric turned in place, taking in the transformation which had occurred in the room. No longer distracted by the sight of his friend, he silently admitted to admiration. As festive and as bright as though the entire family were in residence. He raised his brows and nodded an approval to his sister. “Exceptional, Sarah, I would have guessed the creative propensity for the holiday were more evenly matched among you, mother, and our sisters but it would appear the majority fell to you.

  Sarah smiled and gave him a hug. “Thank you, but I would still advance a good deal of credit at least to mother, she and I were always of a single mind when it came to holiday decor. This year, however, I've had some inspired help as you know.” She nodded toward the corner off to his side and Eric turned to see Eloise standing beside a table, still arranging ribbons.

  “Yes, Miss. Marchand,” He acknowledged, “are these decorations in holding with your expectations? I hope we were able to provide as many niceties and novelties as you could want.”

  Eloise smiled in return, glancing about the table and the room with a look of utmost childish glee. Something fluttered in Eric’s chest.

  “This has far exceeded my expectations,” she began, watching Sarah take up her task at meaningless translation. “My aunt was never one for personally taking part in decorating for the holidays, she prefers to have servants procure, create, and put up the festive elements, which I always thought was a bit sterile and lacking. Everything always had its own perfect place, and looked lovely, but there was no sense of emotion to it.”

  She shrugged and brought her attention full to him. “Every beautiful imperfection in these decorations, every minute imbalance in their arrangement, endears them more to me. I have never had such a wonderful time.” Then she grinned from ear to ear and Eric's heart skipped a beat. He had to force himself to divert his attention to his sister and behave as though he needed her translation. When he looked back at Eloise, her grin had lost a measure of its intensity, but she still glowed with her enthusiasm.

  “I'm glad to hear it.” Was all he managed to think of to say.

  Mallory walked around to the middle of the group, taking over the conversation. “I, for one, believe it's time for a small celebration of their accomplishments, lest these two angelic elves continue their work on into the night without rest.”

  He rang for the Butler and requested a round of cook’s berry cordial before turning his attention again to Eloise and Sarah. “Well then, ladies, what say you to a bit of music?”

  “Oh yes, that would be wonderful!” Sarah added in.

  Mallory made his way over to the pianoforte and sat at the bench, looking up to Eloise before beginning to play. “You'll have to forgive my lack of skill but as you see,” he made a suggestive glance around the room, “we are sadly shy of options at the moment.”

  Eloise smiled and approached the piano, Eric following in her wake.

  Mallory played until the drinks arrived, at which point they paused to share a toast.

  “To friendship and warm hearts for the holidays.” He intoned.

  They raised their glasses in agreement, savoring the pleasantly sweet and spiced concoction, a prized secret recipe of cook’s. Eric sipped, concentrating on the warm bite of the liquid coursing down his throat. Another holiday tradition which served to provide a sense of togetherness and continuity.

  “Now it feels like a true gathering,” Sarah noted. “The only thing wanting is some entertainment.”

  “Well we cannot have that, can we?” Mallory added in, setting his cordial glass atop the pianoforte. “Miss. Eloise, do you play?” He asked indicating the piano.

  “Yes,” she nodded “I quite enjoy it.”

  “Then I beg you to regale us with your talents.”

  Eloise moved to the bench, taking her seat and beginning to play. After taking a moment to nod to the tempo, Mallory turned to Sarah and offered his hand. She accepted, and a moment later the couple were prancing about t
he drawing room with broad smiles lighting their features.

  Eric moved beside the piano, running his palm over the wood, repercussions of the strings within course through his skin and into his being. His eyes stole to the movements of Eloise’s hands and fingers across the keys. Gliding as graceful as the meadowlarks across the fields.

  He’d loved music once. Still did, but the experience of it now was so changed, he couldn’t say how he felt about it. Some days the rhythms enveloped him and almost seem to sing in an ethereal melody his soul recognized, an internal concert of sorts. Other times, he observed as a prisoner in a glass house, seeing the enjoyment of others but unable to access the source himself.

  His eyes still focused on those slender fingers when they halted their movement. Blinking, reality roused him from his thoughts, and he shifted his gaze to find Eloise observing him, something whimsical in her eyes which echoed his own far away contemplation.

  Mallory and Eloise wandered back to the piano, pink faced and breathless.

  “I declare, Miss. Marchand, that was some of the finest playing I have ever heard.” Mallory remarked. “I thank you immensely for the boon.”

  She graced him with a smile. “It was my pleasure, Sir Thomas.”

  “And now,” he continued, “I must return the favor.” He caught Eric’s gaze. “Well, Eric, will you not make yourself available so this young lady can enjoy a dance?”

  ELOISE KNEW SHE MUST have eyes as big as an owl’s as she looked up at Mallory's suggestion, then across to Eric. Noting the quick fading of his amusement, the initial excited rush the words prompted flagged. She knew he must be remembering the scene at her aunt’s evening party and likely blaming himself for the outcome. Sarah as much as told her he’d felt that way when she tried to discreetly ask about it after her arrival. She wished she could erase the sentiment, and another dance without the dangers of inconsiderate floor partners might be just the thing.

  Eric hesitated and dropped his gaze, seeming to consider his words. When he replied, his soft words lacked confidence. “I'm sure Miss. Eloise would not appreciate being forced into another—”

  “Oh no, I—”

  She’d jumped up from the piano bench and blurted out her argument without thinking, startling her companions. Eric’s unwarranted self-debasement angered her. Mallory and Sarah both turned in surprise, Eric's gaze following a second behind.

  With all eyes upon her, heat rose in her cheeks but there was no help for it. She'd made the comment and needed to see it through. Swallowing, she straightened and lifted her chin. “I wouldn't mind at all... if Mr. Langdon is inclined that is,” she amended, realizing belatedly she might have misjudged the situation completely and he didn’t actually want to dance with her.

  Flushing more deeply, she lamented her previous assumption. Her consideration extended only so far as her own foolish heart’s desire to be swept up in those arms again. The intensity of his stare upon her lips as she spoke unnerved her. She clamped her lips together while he considered her statement.

  She blinked. Considering her statement? Glancing again in his direction, he still focused on her. As far as she could tell, he’d paid no heed to Sarah’s translating hands beside him, but...

  “There you have it, Eric,” Mallory took up her cause, breaking the tenuous connection between them and forcing Eric’s attention. “It would be rude of you to the to deny the lady.”

  Mallory joined her beside the bench and gestured for her to step aside while he took the seat himself.

  “Never fear, Miss. Marchand, though I am well aware of the lack of matriarchal supervision in the scenario, I have your best interests in mind and will not scandalize you with a private waltz.” He grinned. “Perhaps a lively country tune would better suit the occasion?”

  Thoroughly regretting her outburst and to the series of events she’d set into motion, Eloise nodded and took a hesitant step toward Eric, gripping her hands in front of her. By now she’d convinced herself she’d forcing Eric into an activity he had no interest in.

  Unable to raise her eyes to his, she focused on the carpeting by her feet. A moment later, an unshod, stockinged foot stepped into view, shocking her enough to look up in confusion. Eric’s playful smile and kind gaze greeted her, along with a palm held out in offering. She couldn’t have wished for a more gallant knight in shining armor to save her from herself.

  She slipped her hand into his, the motion more jarring to her senses than it ought to have been. Her smooth palm slid over his warm skin with sinful delight, rejoicing in the lack of gloves or other proprietary barriers between them. The simple touch warmed her through and began to relax her as surely as it had during their first dance, though the balm proved far more potent this time.

  Mallory struck up the tune, a sprightly paced dance which, while not as suggestive as the waltz, still allowed for a good deal of close maneuvering as Eric turned her into him and spun her out again, linking hands and moving in a variety of complex twists and turns.

  Within moments Eloise had forgotten her doubts, finding herself once again completely absorbed in Eric and his ability to make her feel like the most graceful girl alive. They pranced about the drawing room, smiling and laughing, Eloise quickly growing short of breath but not caring. Every time she had the good fortune to dance with Eric, she considered it perhaps the best day of her life and wished it would never come to an end. Unfortunately, as all good things always come to an end, the appearance of a messenger at the door interrupted their revelry. Eric saw the man during one of their turns and paused in his steps. The piano music also ended as Mallory adjusted to Eric's signal and looked to the door himself.

  “Forgive me, Sirs,” the man announced. I was hoping to speak with Sir Thomas. He directed his gaze at Thomas.

  “Avery, you have the most impeccable and terrible timing,” Mallory announced, looking displeased but also somewhat anxious as he rose to stride across the room and join the man. Before leaving, however, he paused to turn back to his companions. “My apologies, everyone, I'm afraid I’ve got to see what this man is about. Please carry on without me,” he raised an index finger in the air, “but I dutifully request the level of entertainment and enjoyment without my presence be restricted.” With a smile and a cavalier wave, he turned back to Avery, ushering the man out the door.

  “Well what horrid luck,” Sarah sighed. “Just when we were having such a nice evening.”

  Eloise glanced over at her friend, providing a sympathetic smile before observing Eric's profile and noting the intensity of his gaze as he looked toward where Mallory and Avery had been. It wasn't until Sarah moved toward him and touched his sleeve, he seemed to come aware of his surroundings again and forced a smile onto his features. “Well, Poppet, though I'm sure my singular presence is not nearly as entertaining as that of Mallory,” he brought his gaze up over Sarah’s shoulder to include Eloise, “I am at your disposal unless you prefer to banish me to some far corner of the house.

  Sarah grinned. “Well, admittedly, you are not the most entertaining option or the first I would have chosen, but as the pickings are slim...”

  “Thank you indeed,” Eric grumbled.

  “You know I'm teasing you,” she laughed. “Let's call for a card table and enjoy a game.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “ELOISE HAS TOLD ME of the most wonderful tradition they have in France!” Sarah signed with enthusiasm. Eric raised a brow, happy to indulge his sister. Her newfound animation brought with it the realization of how much time had passed in which he hadn’t seen the spark of happy excitement in her.

  They’d taken breakfast a short while earlier and were now making their way to the sunroom where Sarah and Eloise would complete a few remaining tree trimmings while Eric excused himself to his study. Despite his personal misgivings and stresses surrounding Eloise, his own discomfort warranted the price when he saw Sarah in such continually good humor. Eloise walked beside him, also sharing in Sarah's exuberance.

  Though
less familiar with her, it seemed to him her countenance also benefited from her presence in the Langdon home. He didn't flatter himself that he had anything to do with the brightening of her features, or the easing of the darker contemplation settled with almost constant persistence on her brow in the early days of her visit but appreciated her newfound bloom with a kind of reverence.

  “Do you know,” Sarah continued, stepping ahead of them and turning to walk backward in order to provide Eric her full face and features along with the animated hand gestures. If Eloise had been concerned or found it awkward that members of the Langdon household often walked backwards when in proximity to him or in conversation with him, she soon adjusted to the fact and showed no surprise at the change in Sarah's direction. "That they serve thirteen different desserts on Christmas?" Sarah's eyes widened at the proclamation.

  Eric couldn't suppress a chuckle. Of all the Langdon siblings, Sarah, being the youngest and most indulged, had developed a sweet tooth which outshone the sugar tolerance of anyone else in the household. He wasn't surprised this particular tradition caught her attention. “Thirteen!” She emphasized. “Isn't that a spectacular notion?”

  “Indeed,” Eric nodded. “I'm amazed you haven't immediately adopted the tradition for your own purposes.”

  “What do you mean I haven't?” His sister scowled, bringing her hands to her hips for an instant before continuing her manual tirade. “Eloise and I have discussed the Christmas menu in-depth and discovered it would take very little effort to prepare many of the desserts she would have on her table at Christmas. Therefore, I've already consulted with Cook and you can expect to have a wonderful rendition of a French dessert table this holiday.” She clapped her hands in front of her, grinning from ear to ear.

  They passed through the doorway into the sunroom, and Eric opened his mouth to respond to her enthusiasm but paused when she turned her head to the side and leaned, looking around his shoulder. He and Eloise turned to see what had distracted her. One of the scullery maids hurried along the hall to catch them. Upon getting close enough to speak without shouting, the maid quickly curtsied and focused her attention on Sarah, a distraught crease to her brow.