Chapter Six

October 28, 1819

"I say, Drayton old boy, can you tell me where Mrs. Greenwich is this afternoon?" Elliott asked of his butler as he came out of the drawing room and nearly crashed into the man who carried three silver water pitchers in his hands.

"I couldn't say for certain, Your Lordship, but perhaps she has made up one of the numbers for the party that left for berry and fruit picking not an hour past." The man looked him and down from over the rims of his half-moon spectacles. Perhaps ten years his senior, the man had welcomed him into Wynneham Hall along with the other members of his staff with enthusiasm. "Did you not promise you were going to attend as well?"

"I did, but I was waylaid when some of the fellows discussed possible plans for hunting." Now that he'd become accustomed to the layout of the manor house as well as the grounds, he didn't wish to leave for London so soon after the harvest ball. "I thought I might get up a hunting party on All Hallow's Day. Perhaps do a bit of hiking and see what spooky pranks we can get up to." Of course, that wasn't proper of an earl or a man of his age who should be looking for a bride, but he couldn't help it. Something about this time of year invigorated him.

"I'm told the pheasant and plover are numerous just now. Red stags and Roe bucks have also been sighted at sunset, so any hunt you plan should be successful." Drayton raised a blond eyebrow. "Is there anything else, Your Lordship? We are preparing the ballroom and that wing for your harvest ball and things are rather in a pelter."

"Oh, I can quite imagine." Elliott stepped aside. "Please, don't let me keep you, and convey my thanks to the staff who is in charge of decorations and planning."

"I will." The butler nodded. "It is good to have life at Wynneham Hall again." Then he hurried away, disappearing into the servants' staircase at the rear of the corridor.

Which left Elliott to ruminate once more in thinking as he made his way to the ground floor.

For some reason, he didn't wish to leave Lavinia to her own devices. It was directly at odds with his duty and responsibility to his new title, but he couldn't help but be intrigued by the woman. She was his only connection to Adam, and now that she had been underfoot for two days, that whole time of his life had been ripped open like a wound that never healed.

Not to mention, he'd given the members of his house party a critical look last night during dinner. While everyone had been busy conversing with their neighbors and laughing at jokes put forth in the drawing room afterward, he'd been studying the lot and making mental notes, just as he'd done during his time in the field.

Every woman Lily had put on the guest list came up lacking in some way or another, with the exception of Lavinia, and quite frankly, he didn't know where he stood with her. Except the overwhelming emotion he had each time he looked at her was peace.

He stifled a snort as he strode through the lower corridors toward the rear of the house. That was quite true. There was desire between them, and it still crackled into life each time he was in her company, but beyond that, there was the familiarity of friendship, and he appreciated that the most from her.

Yet, before he could perhaps pursue her with a mind to marriage, he needed closure in his life from that turbulent time when he'd courted her before. Needed to finally lay his past with Adam to rest.

To seek a dead man's forgiveness.

What an impossible task.

For now, there were distractions at hand, and he intended to plunge himself into them for as long as he could before having to bare his soul and confront the jagged scars therein.

Eventually, he found part of the party in the orchard midway between the manor and the rear of his property. Apples were in abundance; some had even fallen onto the ground, for the ripe fruit couldn't be picked from the trees fast enough. Bees buzzed around the soon-to-be rotten fruit, and no doubt deer or rodents would pick their way through under cover of nightfall. The sweet scent of the apples and pears brought him back to his childhood when they would visit with his friends in the country. For days he and Lily would hang about with the Carrington children and run riot through orchards, fields, and dells, eating off the land. Sometimes they would go fishing and roast what they caught over an open fire built from their own hands. At others, they would haul berries and apples back to the house where the cook would take pity on them, bake them up tarts or pies especially for them.

Then they all grew up and went their separate ways. Lily matured into a pretty young lady who'd caught Thad's eye early on, but their romance never worked out until much later in life. Lavinia and her family had come into his life during that time of transition, as did Adam, and once more, life held an upheaval, for the military had become the prime attraction along with wanting to have a girl at home waiting for them. Thus, leading to the rivalry between him and Adam for Lavinia's attentions, and effectively the end of their friendship.

Funny how fate played a hand in everything. It had brought Lily and Thad back together to give them a second chance at romance. Was that the same thing he was being given with Lavinia? Did he wish for a romance with her if they were both able to withstand memories and guilt? Gah! There were times when he wished that everyone could have remained friends without romance and carnal feelings sneaking in to ruin everything.

Except, all of those things were wrapped around his and Livi's history, and he relished every one of them.

When he threw a glance about the orchard, there was no sign of her. "Liam!" He called to one of the men who'd been discussing hunting with him earlier. "Where is the rest of the party?"

"They went down to the hedgerow in search of blackberries and elderberries." Liam shrugged. "A rather messy business, berry picking. I'd rather stay here with the apples." Then he winked. "Besides, I'm angling to have Miss Atwater alone for a spell."

"I hope you find some luck then." It seemed the young Miss Atwater was enjoying playing the field, for Liam wasn't a titled lord. However, he did own a shipping outfit in London that was prospering. With a wave and a sigh of relief, Elliott continued on his way. Perhaps Lavinia had been correct after all, but at least he hadn't fallen into the gold digger's trap.

The sun as it shone down provided warmth that was in direct opposition to the chill carried along by the flirty breeze. Soon, there would be a need for his greatcoat, but the tweed jacket would hopefully suffice for the afternoon. As he walked, Elliott saw the beauty of the countryside. The earth was pulling her colorful blanket over herself, and everywhere he looked, russets, golds, reds, and oranges were swept across the rolling hills and trees like by an invisible painter's brush. One of the small ponds he'd passed held a handful of geese, who honked in alarm as he came close. With a grin that felt unaccountably giddy, he tipped his beaver felt top hat to the waterfowl.

For the first time, he allowed himself a smile and to revel in the trappings that had come along with becoming the Earl of Foxborough.

I worked my arse off for this award from Prinny, so why shouldn't I enjoy it?

The one thing that would make everything feel more complete, as if it were the last piece to a puzzle he'd lost long ago would be to have someone in his life to share it with. Yes, he had visions of Thad and Lily using the dower house when they came to visit, but his thinking was now going beyond that. Perhaps it was time to see about retiring from the service of King and Country. Shock plowed through his chest. Was that what he really wished to do? If so, he could certainly turn the whole of his attention on his properties and titles, do what was right by his tenants and farmers, start to modernize his country estates.

But I need help and sound advice.

The buzz of talking and laughing reached his ears, and with a start, Elliott realized he'd reached the hedgerow without being aware of it. When a few people hailed him, he raised a hand in hello, but he only had eyes for one woman, and she was currently framed by green and brown brambles as if she'd been positioned by an artist for a portrait. Many of the leaves on the bushes had already begun to turn into a riot of autumnal colors.

Lavinia stood with her back to him, a willow basket in her left hand. The dress of robin's egg blue and a pelisse of ivory brocade was a vivid splash of color among the rest. She'd removed her bonnet. It rested at her feet and the tips of the half-boots he'd rescued from the mud and then cleaned himself were visible beneath her hem each time she reached high into the brambles to pick the last of the season's blackberries.

"Hullo, Livi." Anxiety tightened in his gut. Why the hell was he so nervous?

She startled and then turned about to face him. "Elliott! Since you didn't come out with the group, I assumed you'd changed your mind."

"I thought about it, but some of the fellows were talking hunting and I couldn't resist." Still in high spirits from his walk over, he grinned and hoped it was cheeky enough to put her at sixes and sevens. "I'm surprised you consented to join. This time yesterday you wished to leave altogether."

A blush stained her cheeks, and she flicked her gaze to something over his left shoulder. "I changed my mind."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "I adore berries."

When she turned back around and returned to picking blackberries, his gaze jogged to her rear end. What wouldn't he give to haul her against him and press her body against his. "Uh, would you like for me to join you? I haven't picked berries in an age, put it doesn't seem too difficult."

Her laughter had tingles racing down his spine to lodge into his stones. "You are the earl, so whatever you wish to do is your prerogative." Amusement twinkled in her eyes when she glanced at him from over her shoulder. "Mind the prickles, though."

"Right." He held up his hands. "I'm protected." For the next few moments, he stood beside her picking berries and dropping them into her basket that he'd tugged from her hand. Some were more plump and juicier than others, for they burst on his fingertips, staining his gloves. "Why did you truly decide not to leave?"

"I wished to know if you've selected a match yet."

Surprise smacked into his chest. The berry he'd been holding between his thumb and forefinger burst, spattering its juice on his cravat and chin. "Uh, I have not, especially since you neatly routed Miss Atwater." He didn't dare move as she dabbed at his chin with the backside of her glove.

"What about that widow you told me about?" Lavinia returned to picking berries. "You've avoided her web, so does that mean she's found someone else to reel in?"

It was so easy talking with her. Even though their association this time around had begun rather roughly, knowing they did have a history together made everything… better. It didn't matter that some of said history had been a mucked-up affair. "I really couldn't say. Perhaps she is indeed busy with someone else." Distracted by the elusive hint of her perfume that smelled like lilacs, Elliott popped a couple of berries into his mouth. The tart sweetness of them exploded on his tongue. "Besides, I still haven't found what I'd consider a cozy choice."

"Meaning what, exactly?"

"I want a woman I rub along well with, have fun and adventures with, but she wouldn't try to lead me around by the nose."

Lavinia chuckled. "You are far too arrogant for that."

"Perhaps." He couldn't help his grin, for she knew him well enough he didn't have to put on a false front to impress her. "But the sentiment still stands. I'd like a woman with enough backbone that she would stand toe-to-toe with me and argue because she had an opinion that might not necessarily mirror mine."

"It's a tall order, to be sure." When she popped a berry into her mouth, a drop of the dark purple juice lingered on her bottom lip. He held his breath until she swiped it away with the tip of her tongue, but then awareness shivered over him as he knew an insane desire to taste the juices from that tongue. "Speaking of marriage, did you enjoy being wed to Adam? From what I remember of him, he was a likable man to everyone he'd met."

"We got on well enough, I suppose, but he was away from England for long stretches during his missions, so it felt as if we always had to start over each time he came home." She moved around to the back side of the hedgerow while the remainder of the party stayed on the front.

Elliott had no choice but to follow with the basket. "I'm sorry. It must have been difficult since he wasn't allowed to write if he was in a clandestine location." Never once had he thought about the people that were left behind when he assigned men to missions overseas. That had been a foolish oversight. "But I'm quite certain he wouldn't have left you had he known you missed him desperately." His chest tightened. Had she ever felt that way about him?

She kept her focus on the brambles, steadily picking berries. "Adam adored the spy life. Nothing could pull him away, not even his love for me… except getting sick."

Damn. He hadn't known about that, either. "Perhaps if I'd known, I could have had a talk with him—"

"—stop." Lavinia turned to face him. Sadness reflected in her dark eyes. All traces of humor or teasing were gone. "That wouldn't have helped. He always wanted to do one more mission, take on one job more so we would be taken care of financially until he could decide on what he wished to fill the remainder of his life with."

Elliott cleared his throat. "That wasn't you?"

A sound suspiciously like a stifled sob issued from her. "It was. Of course it was, but after a few miscarriages…" Another bitten off sob interrupted her. "Well, there is only so much a man can suffer before he gives up internally."

Dear God, the life she'd led! And he'd not been the wiser about it. "I'm sorry."

"It was a part of my life, but it's over now."

"Yet it still upsets you." Wanting to comfort her but not knowing how, Elliott moved a few steps closer to her. "What of your dreams beyond widowhood?"

She scoffed. "I rather doubt women dream of being widowed, unless they are married to proper bounders."

"You know what I meant."

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I do." Another few berries fell into the basket. "To be honest, I'm not certain. I hadn't thought beyond coming out of mourning. My mother wishes to push me into a second marriage, for the coin Adam has in the bank won't last forever."

"And that isn't something you want for yourself?"

She shrugged. "I might wish to be part of a couple again, but like you, that largely depends on the other person. Starting over feels daunting." As she moved farther along the hedgerow, the brambles towered over her.

"Are you ever lonely? Not just physically but lonely for companionship, for having someone to talk with or merely greet over the breakfast table and read tidbits of the paper to?" More and more, as time marched on, that was what he wanted out of life. A woman he could settle into the drawing room with and read to if that was his wont.

"Of course." Lavinia's smile widened but it held a sad edge. "You aren't married to someone, love someone, and then not miss them when they're gone. There is just… a void there, and then sadness comes back to haunt you."

That was exactly what he felt about missing Adam. "What is something you've missed that surprised you?" If he could keep her talking, perhaps her maudlin mood would lift. He wanted her to forget the sadness, if only for a moment.

"Oh." A blush spread over her cheeks. "I suppose that would be dancing. And more personally kissing." As she talked, her eyes darkened slightly but she didn't look away. "It can be a wild connection between two people, but it can also be a promise, comfort or even hope. I truly miss that." She stooped and retrieved the basket, no doubt to move further down the hedgerow. "Some days, needing the comfort of a man's arms around me grows too much to bear."

"Ah, Livi." He couldn't hear more, and wanting to see if the reaction, that swift lightning he'd felt the first time he'd kissed her, had been a fluke, he put a hand to her hip. "Come here." The hedgerow was enough to block them from the rest of the party's view.

"What are you—" Whatever else she'd planned to say dissolved as he brought his lips crashing down on hers.

It was a chaste kiss, to be sure, but he didn't know how she would react, so he waited, watched her face. If she wasn't in agreement, he would release her and try to forget that both kisses ever happened.

Several rapid heartbeats went by as Lavinia stared at him with wide eyes, but this time she didn't break out of his embrace to run. In fact, she slowly nodded for him to continue.

With a soft groan-turned-growl, Elliott tugged her more firmly into his arms and this time when he claimed her mouth, he didn't pull away. Over and over, he moved over her lips seeking answers to every question that he had. He asked his own questions of her silently, through the medium of kissing instead of with words. And finally, when she dropped the berry basket and slipped her hands up his chest to twine behind his nape, he pulled her closer and set out to show her that his desire for her hadn't faded with the years.

All too soon, the kiss became something more entirely. As he probed the seam of her mouth with the tip of his tongue, she opened for him with a tiny sigh. Satin glided against silk as they fought for dominance and control of the embrace. Eventually, Lavinia surrendered, and that victory was as sweet as he'd ever hoped it might be. Passion fogged his brain as she slid a hand down her back, following her spine, until he came to the soft curve of her rear. Cupping her arse, he dragged her closer until she was tightly layered into him, and her faint scent of flowers teased his nose.

When he dared to caress her breast with his free hand, brush the pad of his gloved thumb over her nipple until it hardened and she moaned, Lavinia broke the kiss in order to stare at him once more. "Livi, I apologize for the trespass and—"

"—shh." She halted his words with a quick nip to his bottom lip. "It was lovely, and gave me back a piece of myself I thought had died with Adam."

Before Elliott could answer, someone from the other side of the hedgerow called out for his attention. He uttered a half-stifled groan, but he released Lavinia with regret. "We have much more to say to each other, I think," he whispered, then turned his head. "Stuck in a bramble. I'll be there in a twinkling." With a wink at her, he tugged on the bottom of his tweed jacket and hoped to God no one noticed his cockstand. Not much longer after he'd joined his friend in conversation, out of the corner of his eye he saw her emerge from around the hedgerow with the fallen fruit basket in hand.

Had she felt that intensity between them, or had she kissed him back as a way to keep the grief at bay, to momentarily forget? Worse yet, is that why he'd made the gesture to begin with?

Damn, why was a potential second chance at romance as damned difficult as the first?