Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

F itz had to fight everything within him to prevent himself from running after Eliza. How would it look to his family if he was the one who took off after her to ensure that she was well?

She had appeared ill so suddenly. One moment she was laughing and joking with the rest of them, the next, she seemed about to run from the room as though she had been punched in the stomach.

What had they been talking about? He tried to recall the conversation as Eliza's mother went after her to ensure that she was well. The threat to his life. Was that what had caused her reaction? Was she so worried about him that it had made her sick? That didn't seem to be in character for her. For one, he wasn't certain that she cared that much about him, and for another, she usually contained her emotions.

Fortunately, they were nearly finished dinner and they decided that with Eliza and her mother no longer accompanying them, they would retire early that night.

Fitz was practically pacing around his study as he waited until a suitable hour to go to Eliza, not wanting to encounter her mother or her maid along the way.

As it happened, he didn't have long to wait, for before he could even leave his study, the door was opening, and Eliza was slipping through.

She was already dressed for bed in her nightgown and wrapper, and Fitz tamped down his surge of desire, reminding himself that she was not feeling well, which meant that he shouldn't expect anything, nor ask for it unless it was her idea.

"Eliza," he said, hurriedly crossing toward her, gripping her upper arms in his hands before running them over her as though checking for injury. "Are you well? I've been worried."

"Worried about me, are you?" she said in what he assumed was supposed to be a teasing tone, but he could see the concern in her eyes and couldn't stop his questions.

"What is it?" he asked. "What's happened? Was it something I said?"

She pulled her hands away from him, wringing them in front of her as she began to slowly pace back and forth across the room, her gaze on the floor. For the first time, Fitz was scared, his heart beating so strongly that he wondered if she could hear it.

"It was something you said, actually," she said, and his heart flopped over in his chest at the thought that he had hurt her, even if it had been unintentional. "But only because it reminded me of something," she continued.

"Something from your past?"

"From the past… and the future," she said cryptically.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She took a deep breath before stopping her movements back and forth and staring at him, her hands folded in front of her, her feet in a firm stance beneath her, even as he couldn't help his continued back-and-forth rocking.

"You said you had been here for four weeks."

"Yes. Far too long," he said gruffly, knowing that if Eliza hadn't been with him, he might have gone mad with all of the time he would have been alone.

"Which means it has been three weeks since I left London."

"Yes," he said, not following.

"We began our little experiment a few days after I arrived, and the last time that I… that I had my… monthly womanly time was two weeks before that."

A sick feeling of dread sprung up in his stomach as he knew far too well what she was saying, even as he wanted to deny the truth.

"Are you saying you are with child?" he whispered, although the words seemed to be coming from far away, from someone else entirely.

"I don't know," she said, her voice equally soft and low as well. "Maybe?"

"Yes or no?" he demanded, knowing that he was being brutish but unable to help it as past experiences began to wash over him. He had been down this path before and had no wish to walk it again.

"I suppose yes unless anything changes in the next few days," she said, her voice still hushed as her eyes widened in fear.

"Is it mine?" he found himself saying, the words forming on his tongue.

"What?" she said, her eyes snapping up to his, fire replacing the fear.

"I said, is it mine? Don't lie to me," he said, his hands in fists at his side as he was nearly shaking before her.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she said, her anger forming. "Of course it is, you blockhead! Who else's would it be?"

He shrugged. "Anyone's. You said you came here to learn. To experiment. Well, you seemed pretty well-informed already. Maybe this was your plan. You knew that you were with child, so you came here to convince me that it was mine. That's why you brought up marriage, wasn't it? Planting the seeds just like you had me believe I was planting mine in you?"

He could see his words were hurting her, but he couldn't help them as they spewed forth. His hurt and anger had overwhelmed him, washing away any rational thought or empathy.

He had wondered how her feelings toward him had changed so suddenly from hatred to familiarity, and it was all beginning to make sense. Why she had wanted to be intimate with him so quickly, how she had no qualms about making love to him and had ensured that he finished inside of her, even when he knew he should have done otherwise.

"Fitz," she said, anguish in her voice once she finally formed the word. "How could you say such things? I would never—you know me better than that."

"Do I?" he said. "How well do I really know you?"

"I thought better than this," she said, her nostrils flaring. "I will tell you one thing. I hope I am wrong. I hope I am only late because, after this, I would prefer to have nothing more to do with you. I have no wish to be with a man who thinks so ill of me, and I would rather never see you again."

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair as reason and past experiences warred within him. "It just all seems rather convenient, Eliza. You must realize that, do you not?"

"It takes two people to come together, Fitz," she said, beginning to blink rapidly, and he realized with great chagrin that she was near tears. Damn, but he hated when his sisters cried. He didn't want to think about Eliza doing so, especially when it was because of him. "I don't know what it is you have against me, but I shall figure this out on my own. I thought you would want to know, that this was our problem, and you would support me. That is why I came to you. So we could determine a way forward together. But now… now I see that this has all been a great mistake."

Before he could say anything further, she had flung open the door and was running down the hallway. He rushed to the threshold and looked out, seeing only the material of her wrapper flying behind her, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor, softening when she reached the runner covering the stairs.

She nearly stumbled on the first step, catching herself on the railing just in time, and Fitz hesitated in the doorway, caught between running after her and staying exactly where he was.

Which, he realized, was the problem. He was stuck between the past and the present.

He pressed his lips together. If he hadn't learned from his previous mistakes, then what was the point of it all? He wouldn't be trapped again. Of that, he was certain.

Eliza flung herself down on her bed as the pit of unease that had sprung up during dinner only grew bigger.

Please let this just be poor timing , she prayed. She hoped that she was not with child, for if she was, she had very few options. Her mother was understanding of most things in her life, but this would most certainly cross the line. Her parents would insist that she tell them who the father was and would then make sure that they were married. Anything else would be a complete scandal for herself, her family, and her unborn child.

The worst part of it all was that there was no reason she could see why she and Fitz couldn't be married.

No reason, that was, until he had opened his mouth and responded to her tonight. She knew that he had been hurt in his past, that much was obvious, but if he truly thought her such an awful woman, then why had he spent any time with her in the first place?

She supposed that, if anything, this proved that she didn't know him as well as she had thought, either. For the Fitz she thought she knew would never treat her like he had just done. She should have stayed away in the first place.

One thing was certain. She was in a pickle. She could only hope that it would be solved in the next two days, or she was in a heap of trouble.

Even more than she currently was.

And that was saying something.