Chapter 3

Three

E li stood in the entryway with the Earl of Northfield at his side. Elena stared at them, unable to form words. Her throat went dry, and all coherent thought fled. Her mind blanked as dread filled her. This couldn’t be happening. It could not be happening. But it was. He was here, standing next to her closest friend as if this were not a monumental occasion. As if no time had passed and it was perfectly acceptable for him to arrive at Lady Winston’s house party—as if they had never meant anything to each other, and she had never loved him with all the innocence of youth.

“We’re not interrupting, are we?” Eli asked, attempting to appear nonchalant. Elena was not fooled. She saw through his pretense. They would have words later, and he would not like what she had to say.

“Not at all,” Elena replied, narrowing her gaze and studying Eli shrewdly. She smiled slyly and added, “Please, join us.” Her tone conveyed what she had left unsaid. Good. He ought to be wary.

Lord Northfield took the chair closest to Elena. Her breath caught. He was so close. Too close. She couldn’t very well demand that he remove himself and find somewhere else to sit; that would be the height of rudeness. Not that she was above being rude on occasion, but she required a very good reason to act in such a manner.

Eli glanced at the remaining open seat, which was on the settee next to Lady Gabriella. Without looking in Lady Gabriella’s direction, he focused his attention on Elena. “Lord Northfield is interested in doing business with Savorton Shipping. We have been discussing the possibility since his arrival earlier today.”

“How wonderful for him,” Elena replied coolly, pointedly avoiding looking in the earl’s direction. She was doing her best to pretend she didn’t know him, though he surely knew better. She had caught Theo looking at her with a hint of longing in those striking blue eyes of his. She could not allow him to realize his effect on her. “I trust your discussion is going well.” Somehow, she managed to keep all emotion from her voice.

“It is,” Northfield replied. “Lady Dryden,” he said softly. Reluctantly, Elena looked at him. “I trust you are well.” Damn him… Why did he still have to be so blessedly kind—and so handsome? Painfully handsome, in fact, as it hurt to look at him.

“Is there any reason I wouldn’t be?” she replied, her tone verging on petulance. Without waiting for an answer, she turned to Lady Gabriella. “Do you play cards, dear?” She had to keep her distance from the earl. Somehow, she would remain aloof.

“I cannot say I have any skill at card games,” Lady Gabriella admitted. “I have had no reason to learn.”

“Then we shall rectify that.” Elena grinned. “We have enough here for a game of Faro.” She turned to the earl. “Are you willing to join us, my lord?” Then she glanced at Eli. “He’ll play. He can never turn down a game of cards.” What in heaven’s name was she doing? This was an invitation she shouldn’t have extended. Clearly, she was losing her senses. Now, she would have to spend an evening playing Faro with the earl, Eli, and Lady Gabriella.

“You’re implying I am a consummate gambler, darling.” Eli shook his head with a mock frown. “What will they think of me?”

“They’ll think that you enjoy cards.” Elena shrugged. Eli did enjoy cards; they both did, and they were both skilled. “That doesn’t mean you have a dreadful gambling habit.” Her lips twitched as she allowed herself a grin. “Besides, a good gamble can be quite enjoyable when done correctly.” She meant it as a reminder of their wager.

Eli turned his attention to Lady Gabriella. “Do you wish to learn how to play Faro?” Good. He was focusing on the lady who had caught his interest. She might have foolishly arranged this card game, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use it to her advantage. She would push Eli toward Lady Gabriella and simultaneously do her best to pretend she wasn’t still affected by the Earl of Northfield.

Lady Gabriella tilted her head thoughtfully before answering. “I wouldn’t mind if you’re willing to teach me.”

“I’m sure we’ll all be happy to assist until you grasp the basics. Besides,” Eli added, “this will be for fun only. There’s no reason to risk gambling with a novice. That would hardly be fair.”

“Then let’s play,” Lady Gabriella said, sounding as though she truly wished to learn. Excellent. Elena suppressed a smile.

“Perfect,” Elena said in an agreeable tone. “We shall meet in the game room in an hour. I’ll see to refreshments and ensure we have a proper deck of cards.” She stood and turned to Lady Gabriella. “Don’t worry, dear. You’re in excellent hands with me.” She winked, catching Eli’s glare. He knew her too well not to realize she was up to something. Well, he’d best be prepared.

“I’m not concerned,” Gabriella replied, meeting Elena’s gaze without flinching. “I do learn quickly and doubt I’ll need much assistance. Perhaps we can make the game more interesting once I understand the rules.”

“I like you,” Elena said with a smile. She turned to Eli. “I trust an hour is sufficient for you and Lord Northfield?” She still didn’t look directly at Theo; she couldn’t. If she did, she might betray more than she intended.

“Plenty,” Eli assured her. “Go on and make the arrangements. We’ll join you shortly.”

With those words, Elena left the room. She had plans to make and a game to set up. By the end of the evening, she hoped Eli would be much closer to falling for Lady Gabriella. As for the earl… her former love… She would keep him firmly in the past. There was no second chance for them. She had abandoned those dreams long ago. Elena no longer believed in love, and her heart could not bear the risk of reopening old wounds. No, she did not want Theo. She did not want any man.

Theo drew in a deep, fortifying breath. That had not gone well at all. Elena had looked right through him, as though he were nothing. Did she hate him now? What did she want from him? He didn’t know what she expected of him; she had pushed him aside as if they had never meant a thing to each other, as if they had never been in love, as if they had never been the center of each other’s world. Did she not understand how much he still ached for her? Had she ever truly loved him?

Was he fooling himself?

Perhaps he should give in and go home. As much as he loved her—he did have some pride, after all. Did he truly wish to lay his heart at her feet and hope she still wanted him? Was he that much of a besotted fool?

Yes. Yes, he absolutely was. Everything came down to one simple truth: he loved her. He had always loved her. This was his last chance to have her in his life, and therefore, he had to try to win her heart again. If she no longer loved him… Well, then he would let her go. Every dream and hope he’d held would float away on the wind. It would hurt, but if that was all he had, then he would walk away. He knew in his heart that she was the only woman for him. If he gave up without fighting for her, what did that say about him? He would prove to her that he was exactly what she needed, and more importantly, he would prove that she could trust him.

“Are you going to play cards?” Savorton asked.

Theo glanced in his direction. Savorton had just returned to the room. The other lady… What was her name? Gabriella? He couldn’t be certain. Her name hardly mattered. What mattered was that she had excused herself to prepare for their game of cards, leaving him alone with Savorton. Now, he could speak freely, without either of the ladies present. “I intend to,” he replied, tilting his head to the side. “Is there a reason I should not?”

Savorton shook his head. “No. You absolutely should play.”

“She seems so different…” There had been a pain in her gaze that she had tried to mask. Theo wished he could erase it, but he knew that was impossible. “I wish…”

“What do you wish?” Savorton asked.

“So many things…” He wished he could go back in time and take her away before she’d married the Earl of Dryden. He would have taken her to Scotland and eloped with her. Then she’d have been safe with him. She would never have endured the suffering that had turned her into a woman who now looked through him as if he meant nothing to her. Perhaps he could have saved her from the agony of a marriage that had clearly been brutal. He had so many regrets. “But wishing never helped anyone.”

Savorton nodded. “You do know it will be an uphill battle?”

“I do,” Theo answered, turning to meet the marquess’s gaze. “But nothing worth having has ever been easy, has it? She’s worth everything, and I will do whatever it takes. When it’s all said and done, she’s the only thing that matters.”

The marquess nodded. “Do you know what her marriage was like?”

Theo shook his head. He had heard things but tried not to listen. He hated the thought of her being mistreated and himself powerless to help. The law had been on her husband’s side, and if Theo had known anything with certainty, he would have acted, though they both would have paid a hefty price. “I can only imagine.”

“Perhaps it is best you do not know,” Savorton said softly. “I know far more than I would like.” He walked over to a nearby bar, poured two snifters of brandy, brought a glass over to Theo, and took a sip from his own. “It’s enough to give a person nightmares—and I didn’t even live through it.” He took another sip, then closed his eyes. “He hurt her, and I don’t mean just emotionally, though he did that as well.”

Theo swallowed hard, gritting his teeth. God, he didn’t want to know this. But perhaps he should listen and heed every detail. He did not want to bungle this, and he would if he didn’t understand everything. “I wish I could raise him from the dead and kill him all over again.”

“You and me both,” Savorton said. “I found her after a particularly brutal night. She was…” He shook his head. “If the man hadn’t gone and fallen off his horse that same night, breaking his own neck, I would have killed him myself. The bastard met his end too swiftly—and not nearly as painful as it should have been.”

“She’s free of him now, though…” Theo lifted his glass and took a long, deep drink. The brandy burned as it traveled down his throat.

“She isn’t, though.” The marquess set his glass down. “Oh, he’s dead, and he can’t add any new bruises, but his cruelty still haunts her. She won’t allow herself to become involved with a man. Not even to take a lover. She’s still… skittish.”

“What do you want me to do?” If she was afraid of men, she’d never admit she might still love him. Was he doing her a disservice by attending this house party? Should he leave her alone?

“You cannot allow her to recoil from the world and become a shadow of herself.” Savorton sighed. “You’re here to bring her back to the living. She’s half-dead, though she would deny it.” He met Theo’s gaze. “I know you once loved her…”

“I still love her,” he said adamantly. “I wanted to marry her. Her damnable father prevented it.”

“Good,” Savorton said. “Then fight for her. Don’t let her push you away. She still loves you, though she will deny that too. Do not give up on her. She needs you.”

Theo considered the marquess’s words, then nodded. “But if this is too much for her, if she truly cannot bear it, I will walk away. I refuse to add to her suffering.”

The marquess nodded. “That will have to be enough.” He smiled. “Now, let us join the ladies for a game of Faro. I believe it might prove rather entertaining.”

He hoped so. Theo wanted nothing more than to be near Elena, and he hoped he could win her heart again. The marquess thought she still loved him, but Theo would not take that on faith. He would find out for himself and, in time, prove to her that there was nothing to fear. They had loved each other once, and he damn well still loved her. He would start with this game of cards and follow her lead from there. The more she let him in, the better. This had to be on her terms—or not at all.