Chapter 22

So long as Lucian could hear Eliza behind him, he knew that she was following and safe. However, he did not turn around to look because even though she had finally draped his suitcoat over her shoulders, it still gaped in the front and there was only so much temptation he could fight and feared that if he turned and took in her appearance, that it would be him kissing her this time.

The woman was a danger!

Where was her sense of propriety?

He’d expect such behavior from a mistress or a light skirt. Eliza was a respectable miss. A spinster!

All he could hope was that she better covered herself as they neared the manor or his footmen would no doubt be suffering from the same type of desire that was heating Lucian’s veins at this very moment.

As they neared the terrace and the footman did not react, only then did Lucian risk looking back over his shoulder to note that Eliza had pulled the suitcoat closed and all that could be seen was her wet skirt from her thighs down.

Thank goodness.

“I shall be in the library until supper,” he announced and stormed into the house, down to the library then slammed the door behind him.

If she continued to tempt him, Lucian had no doubt that he would eventually seduce her. The only problem, he feared that she would willingly let him.

Did Eliza not know what that would mean?

Bedding of a miss resulted in marriage to a lord—to him!

While Lucian did need to wed, and produce a son, since his brothers were not seeing to the task, Eliza would be a poor choice.

Though Xavier recently wed and there was hope that his wife would produce the necessary heir. However, if Xavier failed to do so, and if another brother did not see to the necessity within the year, Lucian would have no choice but to find the most pleasant woman he could and make her his wife.

That person was not Eliza.

She was pleasant and he enjoyed her company, but she would never be content to spend the remainder of her days in Wyndhill Park, only going to London during the Season, but not really taking part. London was for parliament, not entertainment.

Eliza was intriguing, adventurous, impetuous, and reckless. He was disciplined, practical, cautious, predictable, and respectable.

No two people were more different and she threatened everything. If he gave in to seduction then all that he believed himself to be would vanish.

When he learned that she had changed and retreated to the parlor where she would write, only then did Lucian believe it safe to confront her.

In the hours that had passed since she had fallen into the lake, Eliza’s hair had been dried and arranged in a manner of soft curls that framed her temples with the remainder pulled back and tied in a ribbon that cascaded down her back. One pull of that silk bow and those curls would be free and he longed to run his fingers through the silky waves.

Blast!

His ardor should have cooled. It had until he experienced the vision of her wearing a pale-yellow dress with a bodice that hugged her breasts in a way that the tops spilled out. A part of him wanted to insist that she cover herself as he had done at the lake, except, what she was wearing was fashionable and in truth, he had seen even lower cut bodices. The only difference, he hadn’t wanted any of those women.

Lucian’s mouth had gone dry and he looked away and then frowned, noting the pistol at the corner of the desk. “Where did that come from?”

“It is mine,” she answered.

What the blazes was Eliza doing with a pistol? Did she even know how to use it?

“Why do you have it?”

“For protection.” She blinked at him. “Why else does one keep a pistol on their person?”

“You have no need for such in the house,” he insisted.

“I am aware. I took it with me when I left on my stroll.” She smiled. “I have a special garter to wear it against my leg when my reticule is inconvenient to carry.”

Lucian gaped at her. “A garter?” how high was it placed on her leg? Certainly lifting her skirts was more inconvenient than taking it from a reticule.

“Yes, but sadly it filled with water when I fell in the lake and needs a proper cleaning, if it is not ruined.”

He was without words. He should be grateful that she took her safety with more seriousness, but Lucian was more worried that she’d accidentally shoot herself.

“I thought that you did not own ribbons,” he noted recalling the earlier letters.

Eliza glanced up. “I said that I had not purchased any and as a rule, I tried to avoid them. However, on the rare occasion that I simply wish to tie my hair back they become a necessity.”

He supposed it was a reasonable explanation, nor was it really a concern given the true reason he needed to speak with her. “This arrived in the post while you were off falling into the lake again.”

“It was not my intention to fall. The bridge gave out.”

“You should not have been so far from the house.”

Eliza rolled her eyes and took the missive from him and he waited for her reaction.

At first, those grey eyes widened then she narrowed her gaze on Lucian. “You opened my correspondence?”

“Stella recognized the handwriting and feared what it contained.”

“That is no reason to invade my privacy.”

“It is when I fear for your safety.”

Eliza blew out a sigh and unfolded the parchment and within moments, all color had left her cheeks. “He watched me sleep.”

“Apparently,” Lucian answered and understood why she was suddenly shaken. He would be if he had received a similar message.

“I wonder how often.” She frowned and glanced at the missive again. “How could I have not been aware someone was standing in my chamber?”

Lucian would like to think that he would wake if someone was in his room.

The butler tapped on the door and then stepped into the parlor. “Supper is served.”

“Thank you,” Lucian offered then looked back at Eliza. She had not regained her color and if he was not mistaken, there was fear in those grey eyes. Maybe she was once again realizing how vulnerable she had been and would not leave the manor again.

“Shall we?” he asked.

She blinked at him. “I am not certain I am hungry any longer.”

After supper was complete, of which she ate nothing, Eliza returned to the parlor to continue working on rewriting her novel.

Her appetite had completely disappeared when she read the latest missive and though she knew that she needed to eat, her throat was too tight to have allowed any food to pass. Even if it had been possible, her stomach churned and she feared anything that she managed to swallow would send her running for a chamber pot to toss up her accounts.

Eliza had hoped that by putting her mind to her novel that she’d be able to forget about the missive that had been received today, except she couldn’t relax enough to concentrate and too often glanced to the doors leading to the terrace. Even though she knew that Lucian had made certain that there were footmen at every entrance, she no longer felt safe, not even after she had closed the draperies.

The vulnerability of her position, of being alone on the ground floor, eventually became too much and she retired to her chamber above where she prepared for bed. After making certain that the curtains were closed here as well, and the door locked to the corridor, Eliza made her way to the sitting room where she also closed the curtains and locked that door to the corridor. The only one that remained unlocked was the door between her chamber and the sitting room. She felt safer not having a locked door between her and Lucian.

He was security and safety and Eliza was glad he slept nearby.

Satisfied that all precautions had been taken, Eliza crawled into bed, and turned the lamp down, but not completely out as she wanted a small bit of light. She then pulled the covers to her chin and closed her eyes, except sleep would not come.

Had the house always been this noisy? There were scratches against her window from tree limbs being moved by a gentle wind. Somewhere in the distance a clock chimed the hour. Then there were squeaks of the floorboards, as if someone were walking down the corridor outside of her room. It was possible that the noises were from servants, but what if it wasn’t a servant but him?

Several times she lectured herself on being silly and frightened for no cause. Besides, she feared nothing…well, except for storms, but that was because she could not control their violence, whereas she had control of anyone who may threaten her. She would not cower and could scream if necessary. Except such a lecture did not help calm her fears.

When had she become such a ninny?

The answer was learning that a stranger had stood by her bed and watched while she slept without her having ever suspected.

A shiver ran down her spine and suddenly Lucian’s chamber felt as if it were on the other side of the manor—too far away to help if someone did come into this room.

The clock chimed midnight and Eliza realized that she had been trying for nearly two hours to sleep but found it impossible.

Instead of lying there longer, she rose and pulled on her dressing gown and took the lamp with her into the sitting room. She had considered pouring herself a glass of brandy because it may help her sleep, but what if she slept too deeply and wasn’t aware if someone came in?

Instead, she settled on the settee and pulled a lap blanket over her legs. If the man came to her chamber, he would not find her there. Except, would he then look in here?

If he did, she would surely scream and Lucian would hear. Well, unless he was a sound sleeper.

Though the storm had awakened him the other evening, would screams as well?

Blast! She hated this fear and weakness and had prided herself on not giving in to the same terror that she had inflicted on her schoolmates and almost felt guilty for what she had put her teachers through. Had the fates now turned on her for the years she spent at the Wiggons’ School for Elegant Young Ladies?

Eliza glanced over to the closed door that led to Lucian’s chamber. She would be safer there and perhaps she might get some rest.

Except, he likely would not appreciate waking to find her sleeping on his floor. Yet, she was exhausted and her eyes burned, but her mind would not settle so long as she heard every odd sound within the manor.

Did she dare?

A creak outside the door nearly made her jump.

Yes! She did dare.

Taking the blanket and one of the throw pillows, Eliza then blew out the lamp and crossed to his chamber door. She could barely make out where she was going but luckily the curtains were light enough that some of the brightness from the full moon penetrated the darkness.

Slowly Eliza pushed his door open and held her breath hoping that it would not squeak and disturb Lucian. When there was no sound, she pushed it wider and stepped into the large, masculine chamber and glanced at the bed draped in a blue coverlet and nearly sucked in her breath.

As her eyes adjusted to the light coming in from the open windows, Eliza noted that Lucian was asleep and there appeared to be no movement, which meant he still slept thank goodness, but that was not what had startled her. It was the fact that he lay on his back, one arm over his head and the coverlet only drawn up to his hips leaving his chest in complete view. Goodness, she’d never seen the bare chest of a man before, nor bare shoulders and arms and they were quite impressive. Or perhaps he was magnificent. Even in his sleep, she could make out the muscles in his chest and down his arms, shoulders wide, and his flat, hard stomach.

A fluttering of desire began in her mid-section then spread to her nether regions and to her breast.

Now was not the time to experience desire, though it was a far more welcoming sensation than terror. And as much as she wished to curl up by his side, where she would be safe, Eliza didn’t dare or he would likely remove her from his chamber. If he pushed away kisses, she could just imagine the insult he would deliver if he found her in his bed.

Eliza took in the rest of the room, looking for a chair or comfortable rug when she noted a chaise near the fireplace and nearly sighed with relief as she crossed the dark wood floor. At movement from the bed, Eliza stopped moving and watched him from the corner of her eyes, studying his face and waited for him to open his eyes. Instead, he pulled the blankets higher, much to her disappointment and continued sleeping. Thank goodness.

Eliza then settled onto the chaise, rested her head on the pillow and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders even though it was warm in the room. It was her fear that had her drawing covers as extra protection.