Chapter 6

Chapter Six

A nthony's smile softened as he continued, "There is something about you, Eliza. I find it... captivating."

He was surprised at himself, realizing just how drawn he was to Eliza.

She was different from the women he usually occupied himself with—those who were seductive and lithe, blond and fair. Eliza was spirited, resilient, and there was an honesty in her that he found incredibly refreshing.

Indeed, she was curvier than the slender women of fashion, but her hourglass figure was alluring. There was a natural beauty to her that he found irresistible. He imagined how her heavy breasts might feel in his hands or even taste…

Eliza's expression morphed from initial shock to disbelief then gave way to a mix of emotions—flattery, confusion, and a guarded hope.

She stood quickly, moving toward the fireplace. "Why would you say that? We barely know each other."

Anthony stood as well, trying to calm the arousal he felt, and he moved to a small table where a bottle of champagne and two glasses waited.

"True, but what I do know, I admire." He poured two glasses of champagne, the sound of the bubbling liquid filling the room. "Would you join me for a drink?"

Eliza hesitated but then accepted the glass he offered her.

Anthony took his own glass and raised it slightly. "To new beginnings," he said, his gaze steady on hers.

She remained quiet as she took a sip, her blue eyes contrasting the muted yellows of the champagne.

Anthony moved to a tray of delicacies he had arranged earlier and. He picked up a chocolate-dipped strawberry, offering it to her. "Would you care for one? They are quite delicious."

Eliza took the strawberry, her fingers brushing against his. She brought it to her lips, taking a small bite, her tongue flicking over her lip to sweep away the berry's juices.

He couldn't help but imagine that tongue of hers on other places too.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Anthony watched her, captivated by the simple act of her enjoying the treat. As her lips wrapped around the strawberry, he nearly shuddered.

"Perhaps you might like a fig, as well?" Anthony asked, picking up a fruit and bringing it to her lips.

She looked up at him with hesitation, and his breath hitched in his throat as he wondered if she would actually eat the fig from his own fingers.

"Thank you," she whispered with a small nod.

The soft warmness of her mouth briefly touched his skin with a soft suckle that made him squirm.

"You know," he began, trying to keep his tone conversational and hide the heat that sizzled within him, "this reminds me of a story."

Eliza raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. She wiped some honey from her lips with her finger and licked the residue.

He wanted to groan. No woman had ever tortured him the way she was in that moment.

"Oh? Do tell," she said innocently, seemingly completely unaware of what she was doing to him.

Anthony leaned against the mantle, his eyes never leaving hers.

"There was a time, not so long ago, when I was traveling through the countryside. It was a beautiful spring day, and I decided to take a walk through the fields. As I wandered, I came across a small cottage. There was an elderly woman outside, struggling with a heavy basket. She must have been well into her seventies, yet she was still trying to manage her chores."

Eliza's interest was piqued. "And what did you do?"

"I offered to help her, of course. She was hesitant at first, but she eventually allowed me to carry the basket inside. Her cottage was quaint and filled with the scent of fresh bread. She invited me to stay for tea, and we spent the afternoon talking. She told me stories of her youth, of the love she had for her late husband, and the adventures they shared."

Eliza's eyes softened for a moment, but she quickly raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "Did she, now?"

"Mmhm. She spoke of love and kindness, of the simple joys that can be found in everyday life. It was a humbling experience and one that I cherish."

"Why would that story remind you of me?" Eliza asked, her brows knitting together. "Surely that is something you tell other women to convince them to lay with you, no?"

He threw back his head and laughed. "Is that what you think of me? Here I thought I was being charming."

"Perhaps I see beyond your charm."

"Are you always so distrustful?" Anthony asked, trying to loosen his cravat casually.

In truth, he could not keep his eyes off Eliza's ample bosom, and he felt as though he might surely embarrass himself in front of her.

"You could guess why," she reminded him, her tone slightly teasing.

He smirked, "Clever girl. Still, so what if I wish to lay with you?"

Her face froze for a fleeting moment, as though he'd spoken to her in a foreign language.

"Your Grace," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "I do not understand why you would take such an interest in me."

"Is it so hard to believe that I merely enjoy your company?"

She crossed her arms, her gaze narrowing. "Is it because you see me as an easy target, desperate enough to accept your deal?"

Anthony's smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of seriousness. "You misunderstand me. I am not doing this out of pity or because you are an easy target. After all, you started all of this by falsely claiming we were engaged."

Eliza shook her head, her frustration growing. "Then why? Why go to such lengths to help me?"

"This is a mutually beneficial agreement, Eliza," Anthony replied. "And I am very much benefitting from it at the moment."

"What does that mean?" Eliza challenged.

"You still do not believe me," he observed, at a loss for her disbelief.

"I am used to being mocked," she spat, her eyes flashing. "But this is even crueler than the girls at Mrs. West's."

Anthony leaned forward, his gaze intense. "I have no reason to lie to you. This arrangement benefits us both, yes, but it is not based on manipulation, or cruelty."

"You are just saying that because you know I have no other choice. You think you have me cornered, and I will have to comply," Eliza replied.

Anthony's frustration grew, his patience wearing thin.

He stood, stepping toward her. "Like I said, this is a mutual agreement."

"It sounds more like a convenient excuse for you to get what you want."

Anthony's jaw clenched. "And you are not? Correct me if I am not, but you are not Lady Beecham at the moment, are you?"

She looked down in defeat, "No," she mumbled.

"Tell me then, what do exactly do you think I want?" he asked.

"To humiliate me," she breathed, looking up at him, her rosy, juicy lips parted breathlessly.

Her blue eyes stared up at him, vulnerable and delicate.

Anthony's expression softened as he took a step back, running a hand through his hair. "Eliza, I do not want to humiliate you. Far from it."

Eliza blinked, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. "What do you mean?"

He poured more champagne for both of them, settling back into his chair.

"I mean," Anthony continued, his voice gentler, "I want you to feel the opposite of discomfort when you're with me. I want you to feel pleasure."

Eliza blushed and he reveled seeing her in such a lively color; he even wished to see her other cheeks redden and flushed.

"I am aware of your reputation, Your Grace, and all the rumors about your rakish behavior," she said.

Anthony chuckled though it lacked real humor. "Those rumors are rooted in truth, but they are also exaggerated."

Eliza squinted at him. "And that is all you want to say?"

He shrugged, sipping his champagne.

"I do enjoy having my way with women," he said, then locked eyes with her. "Any woman I would like," he added with a fire in his eyes.

She exhaled and quickly changed the subject, asking, "And what do you want out of life, other than any woman you chose?"

He paused, trying to understand her question, something he had not really thought about before.

"What I want?" he asked, blinking. "I want to be free, free to do whatever I want."

"Free to drink, whore, and gamble?" Eliza asked wryly.

"You make it sound so dire," he laughed again.

"Then you have no desire to have your life have purpose, meaning?" she continued.

"I do not see the point," he said softly, finding a reprieve in his champagne. He avoided Eliza's gaze for a moment, afraid that if he looked into her eyes, he might bare himself more to her. "And you, what do you want out of life?" he asked quickly, trying to turn the attention away from him.

"I also desire to be free," Eliza breathed.

He looked up, surprised. "Would you not desire security, love, happiness? Or whatever it is that ladies of the ton desire nowadays."

She shrugged. "I thought I would be happy running away from Mrs. West's to be a governess. Diana and I had a pact, in fact, to run away together."

"Ah, yes," Anthony remembered with a sincere chuckle. "Isn't that how the Duchess of Whitehall ended up married to my friend, Edward? By running away?"

"Exactly," Eliza sighed, shoulders drooping. "And now I am here, being pawned off to men old enough to be my grandfather, to be trapped and controlled by them in mind, body, and spirit."

The brief image of an old man trying to bed Eliza came to mind, and his stomach churned. A strange sense of possessiveness came over him, and he was unable to abide the thought of any other man, regardless of age, touching her.

"So, you can see why I might not want to be controlled by you, either," Eliza said, breaking his thoughts.

"It isn't always bad to relinquish control every now and then. Especially when it comes to matters of the body," he responded with a smirk.

"See? Even you wish to control me."

"I did not mean that, Eliza."

"Then what did you mean?"

"When I first heard the rumor of us being engaged," he whispered, turning to step even closer to her, "I perhaps had wished that notion—to make this chit pay for involving me in her schemes. But seeing you, the mere sight of you… It took my breath away."

"You jest," Eliza whispered back, her bosom rising and falling with each short breath. "Surely, you jest."

"You really cannot believe that anyone would find you desirable?" he asked her.

"No one ever has before, so why would I think so now?"

"They are all idiots for not seeing you for what you are."

"And what is that?"

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Irresistible," he murmured, his gaze locked on hers. "A treasure, just waiting to be claimed."

Without another word, he closed the distance between them and captured her lips in a fierce, desperate kiss.

She gasped, momentarily stunned by the intensity. For a brief moment, she stood stiffly in his hands, under his lips, but after only a moment of hesitation, her lips parted, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

He took her face between his palms, letting his tongue explore her mouth. She let out a moan that stirred desire in his loins.

The world seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of them in the quiet, dimly lit study.

If Eliza had been any other woman, he would have pushed her back to the sofa, raised her skirts there, and had his way with her. Something held him back though, and he relished the sensation of the kiss, taking in the smell of her and the softness of her skin.

But as quickly as she surrendered to the kiss, Eliza pulled away, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Does that feel like pity to you?" Anthony demanded, his voice rough with emotion.

Eliza shook her head, her fingers lightly touching her swollen lips. "No," she whispered, "it does not."

Anthony's eyes held a predatory gleam. "Then believe me when I say that I enjoy having any woman I want. This is not pity; this is me getting what I want and what I am owed."

"Anthony," she began, her voice trembling but resolute, "you must understand the risk in this for me."

"I am offering you a chance to be free from society and experience the true pleasures of life," his voice went low during the last part of his sentence.

"Would you ever marry me?" she asked bluntly.

Her sudden question stunned him, and he stared at her blankly for a moment.

"That is what I thought," she said with a definitive nod. "You would say what you would to bed me, but you could never consider marrying a girl like me."

"That is not what I meant at all," he responded, raking his hands through his hair.

He scoffed with frustration, looking around wildly, wondering how he ever thought this situation could be a good idea.

She pushed him away gently. "I should go," she said firmly.

"Eliza," he said sternly, grabbing her wrist.

She only half turned back towards him, still straining against his grasp.

"You know asking to meet me in secret could only hurt me . If I were to be caught, I would be ruined, and no one would have me. If you succeed in bedding me, then I would indeed be ruined for my future husband. Is that what you want?"

Anthony's grip loosened slightly. "Eliza, you have been led to believe by the ton that a young woman would be ruined if she is with a man before her husband. I am telling you, she would only be considered ineligible if she is caught. If you are with me, you will not be caught. No one will ever have to find out. Not even your future husband."

"That is what you want me to believe," she protested, pulling against his grip, but he held firmly again.

"The ton is unforgiving and cruel, that is true," Anthony told her, "but only to those that are careless."

"If we are caught, the consequences would be severe for me," Eliza insisted.

Anthony's jaw tightened. He did not want to admit, even to himself, how much he wanted to spend time with her or how much her concern had started to affect him.

He wanted to touch her, taste her, feel what it would be like to be inside of her, despite what that would mean for her as a lady.

"I understand the risk, and I will take every precaution to ensure your safety and reputation. Trust me," he smirked, "I have plenty of practice."

Eliza's shoulders relaxed a little though her stance was still stiff and guarded. "You say that now, Your Grace."

Anthony pulled her closer to him. "I will do everything in my power to make you mine."

Eliza's breath hitched in her throat. No man had ever spoken to her with such fervor.

"If I sense that my reputation or future is truly at risk, I will end this arrangement immediately."

Anthony watched her, a flicker of frustration in his eyes, but he simply nodded. "Remember, Eliza, you owe me."

Eliza swallowed hard. He was right; not only he'd helped her evade Baron Haversham at last year's ball, he'd also gone along with her lie. Not to mention he offered to continue going along with it.

The more she pushed hard, the more precarious her situation became. She could not risk being ruined by the Duke, but she could not risk the revelation of their arrangement either.

For now, she was trapped, and there was only one thing she could do.

She nodded. "All right, Your Grace."

And before the Duke could respond, she stepped out of the study and closed the door behind her.