Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Bloody hell.

He was going mad. That was the only explanation as to why Peregrine Hubert Fitzwilliam, the eighth Earl Fitzwilliam, would possibly tell the one woman that loathed him beyond reproach that she was beautiful even with her unflattering hair style. But dear God, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in all of his twenty-eight years of life.

It was unfortunate that she would never love someone such as him.

Unlike his closest friend, the Duke of Woodmere, Perry did not possess a single flirtatious bone in his body.

From the moment Eliza Lockhart arrived at the lavish but small estate of Pemberly, Perry was captured by her beauty. Enraptured by her candor and wit, but most of all, it was her caring heart that had chipped away pieces of his armor. So much that apparently he couldn't stop himself from insulting her.

"Where have you been? I need you for protection from Mrs. Bennet," Woodmere said, a frightened look on his face.

Perry laughed at his friend, walking toward the open doors at the back of the house that led to the gardens. Mrs. Bennet was his second cousin, Darcy's mother-in-law, and the woman was hell bent on marrying both Perry and Woodmere to one of her beloved granddaughters. Well, specifically Miss Darcy and Miss Bingley, she never pushed either one of them to Miss Lockhart, whose beauty outshined them all.

"You're a duke. Surely you do not need me to protect you from an old woman." He shook his head at the look of pure terror on his friend's face.

"I do when you are related to her," he whispered, leaning toward Perry and away from the open door, where the guests were gathered for a garden party in November.

The guests were gathered in the conservatory that overlooked the Pemberly gardens. It was a small, intimate affair of around twenty people to celebrate his cousin. A table ladened with food sat against the wall.

He did envy Darcy. Though the other man had no title, he had a family, an heir, two daughters, and a wife that he obviously cared for. Theirs wasn't an outward display of affection like the Bingleys with their knowing smiles and touches. No, Darcy and his wife–who insisted Perry called her Lizzy—were more muted with their affection, but it was obvious that they were a love match.

The party was one of many activities that had been planned to celebrate Darcy. Everything would culminate with a grand ball in his honor the following day.

Perry was more than ready to return to his own home without a wife. It had been his uncle, Colonel Fitzwilliam's grand scheme, that he should find a wife amongst his cousins' family. He went along with it, knowing that his uncle, and closest remaining relative, meant well, but really marrying one's cousin was an ancient custom in Perry's opinion.

"I must warn you there is another cousin," Woodmere said.

"Really? I suppose it can't be helped with Mrs. Bennet having five daughters." Perry stood beside his friend, looking around for the additional cousin.

"Unfortunately, this one isn't pretty like the last." Woodmere leaned closer to Perry. "Miss Lockhart is exceptionally pleasing to look at," he whispered, turning his head to view over his shoulder.

Perry stiffened. He was greatly aware that his oldest and dearest friend found Eliza Lockhart desirable, but to hear Woodmere speak of her in such a way sent anger searing through his veins. There was no claim of mutual affection, or any hint that she could even tolerate Perry for long periods of time, still it did not stop him from dreaming of her.

"Lord Fitzwilliam!" Perry's body bristled at the shrill voice of Mrs. Bennet.

"There you are at last! Our Beth was just asking after you," Mrs. Bennet called, pulling her granddaughter through the small crowd at the speed of someone much younger than she was.

"Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bingley." Perry bowed his head at the pair. "How lovely to see you both. Are you enjoying the party?"

"Beth was just saying how dull it was without you. Isn't that right, dear?" Mrs. Bennet asked the quiet Beth, who stood wide eyed staring at Perry.

She was quite beautiful, to be sure, but her mild manner and quiet demeanor weren't what Perry wanted in a wife. He wanted fire, passion, someone to tell him that he was being an unmitigated ass. Someone with light brown skin and fire in her eyes.

However, Perry doubted that Eliza Lockhart would ever choose him to spend the rest of her life with. As for him, he would spend his every waking breath wishing that she were his.

"Y-yes." Beth's head swiveled around the room, avoiding eye contact with Perry.

From the moment he met the quiet, but beautiful Beth Bingley, he knew that she was not the woman for him.

His uncle had originally wanted Perry to meet his cousin, Jane Darcy, and form a union, but on meeting Jane, it was clear that she was much like a sister to Perry. It was strange how instantly he knew that he would do anything to protect and care for her.

Born an only child, alone with just his parents and occasionally his uncle for company, Perry didn't know the joys and pains of having siblings until he met Jane Darcy.

Though he knew of his father's cousin, Darcy, Perry had never been close to the older man and had not met him or his lively family before. The years had passed swiftly, with school and responsibilities. His father becoming ill, catapulted his life in ways he was not prepared for. Suddenly, he found himself the earl with a mountain of responsibilities, tenants, and his mother to care for. Although his uncle, Colonel Fitzwilliam, was his own man, Perry still had some responsibility to him as head of the family.

Perry waited for Miss Bingley to add more, but after an uncomfortable amount of silence, she still hadn't added anything more.

His gaze flicked around the room, and found a rigid-looking Eliza Lockhart standing between her parents, speaking with a short, thin gentleman that Perry had never seen before.

This must be the other cousin Woodmere was speaking of.

"Have you heard the news?" Mrs. Bennet asked him, following his gaze to where her other granddaughter stood with her hands clenched.

"News?" Perry tilted his head in confusion.

"Yes! I'm very excited that soon one of my granddaughters will be mistress of Longbourn," she said, her gaze lingering on Eliza and the gentleman.

Perry stiffened, taking note of how close the stranger was to her.

"When Mr. Bennet passed, Mr. Collins and Charlotte moved in less than a month after his death, not giving me anytime to mourn." She shook her head adamantly. "My only hope is that I will be alive when Mr. Collins finally leaves this world and Eliza becomes mistress of Longbourn."

Perry whipped his head to Mrs. Bennet, praying that surely she was mistaken. "Eliza, you mean Miss Lockhart, is to be married?"

The older woman bounced up and down like a debutante, unable to hide her excitement. "Yes! We expect a proposal any day now. It is an excellent match for our Eliza, wouldn't you agree my lord?"

Perry's hand closed into a tight fist as a shiver raced down his spine.

Married?

Eliza Lockhart was to be married. Of course she was. What man could resist her with her beauty, wit, and charm? She was everything that any gentleman would want in a wife.

Pulling at his cravat, Perry tried to breathe, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. He had lost her before he could confess his true feelings.

It was official. He was going mad.

A soft body brushed against his, the scent of citrus and rose water awakening him as it had done the first time he was near Eliza Lockhart. He was jostled out of his thoughts by Eliza's soft body brushing against his as she passed him in a rush.

"Pardon me, my lord," she said, her voice filled with pain.

Perry's leg bounced, his body filled with energy to go after her and beg her not to marry the ridiculous man next to her parents. It wasn't his fault that from the moment Perry laid eyes on Eliza Lockhart that his heart and soul belonged to her.

If only he could say those words to the object of his affection without insulting her.

"I do hope Eliza is well, Grandmother," Miss Bingley said with concern in her voice.

"Oh, she's fine!" Mrs. Bennet waved her hand in the air. "You'll soon discover the nerves associated with a proposal. Don't you agree, Lord Fitzwilliam?" The elder woman fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"Yes, indeed." Desperately in need of saving, he shifted his gaze to Woodmere, who was currently deep in conversation with Perry's uncle. "Excuse me ladies, I must have a quick word with my uncle."

Perry bowed, before he turned in the direction of his uncle and Woodmere, but changed direction abruptly before exiting the conservatory. Once he was in the hallway, his legs led him to the one place he knew Eliza had gone.

From the moment she had first arrived at Pemberly, Eliza could be found in the safety of the library, hiding from her overbearing grandmother and stoic parents.

Perry remembered the first time he saw her, he had been riding, needing some fresh air to escape his cousin's overbearing family. The first time he escaped the overcrowded house in search of quiet, he stumbled across Eliza hiding away in the library furiously writing in a journal, mumbling to herself about sugar and flour.

It was the strangest, most adorable thing he had ever seen a person do. He later learned of her love for baking, which explained the mumbling, but not the writing. Perry longed to discover her every secret, to spend nights speaking of their hopes and dreams.

Never in his life had he ever felt anything quite like the emotions that Eliza Lockhart stirred in him. Since he was a young boy, there had always been an incomplete feeling deep inside. He had the typical aristocratic upbringing. Both his parents were more concerned with society than raising a child. Often Perry found himself alone on their large estate, surrounded by servants. His uncle was his only visitor, the one person he could depend on. There always seemed to be a part of Perry that was missing until the day he stumbled into the Pemberly library and was locked in the intense gaze of Eliza Lockhart.

From that moment on, it became perfectly clear why he always felt incomplete. He was missing her. She was the missing part of his soul, or so his fragile heart kept telling him. Rationally, Perry thought he had surely lost his mind.

Entering the library, he closed the door quietly before turning around in search of Eliza.

"What are you doing here?" she spat out, fire in her gaze.

Perry wanted to consume every single inch of her and make her his. He needed her fire to consume him.

He didn't consider himself a rigid man, however; he had always clung to duty and family like it was a shield. Everything he did was to maintain the Fitzwilliam line. After another failed season without finding a bride amongst society's debutante's, Perry had agreed to attend his cousin's fiftieth birthday celebration. Never had he ever prepared himself to meet a woman such as Eliza Lockhart.

"I asked you a question, my lord," she said, crossing her arms over her ample bosom.

Perry's eyes snapped away from the appealing view of her swollen breasts, only to be captured in her fierce blue gaze. Her eyes were the first thing that captured him, so riveting and enchanting he couldn't dare remember his name or his title.

A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. He loved her fiery attitude and longed to burn with her. Perry wouldn't dare try to contain her. She was his equal in every way imaginable, and that was the one thing that captured him completely.

"I noticed you leaving the conservatory, and I wanted to ensure that you were well." Perry took several slow steps toward her, like she was a wounded animal.

"I am no concern of yours. Perhaps you should save your worries for my cousin, Miss Bingley." She turned away from him, her shoulders stiff as she walked over to a towering bookshelf, officially dismissing him.

Swallowing, he took several steps until he was standing directly behind her. He flexed his fingers, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her soft skin without her permission, but he was a gentleman after all and would do nothing without her agreement.

"I do not care if Miss Bingley is well." He shook his head at how absurd the words sounded in his own ears. "What I mean is that Miss Bingley is of no concern of mine."

There, he said it. Perhaps now she would understand where his affection truly lay.

Brandishing a large volume, she faced him, her eyes narrowed in a heated gaze. "That is not what my grandmother believes. She and my cousin are convinced that you will offer for her any day now."

Boldly, Perry removed the book from her hands, his fingers brushing against hers as he stepped closer than propriety demanded. "I will repeat myself because it seems you are incapable of understanding me. "

"I was wondering when the insults would begin," she said. A perfect eyebrow arched at Perry.

He ignored her words, taking her gloved hand with his free one. Perry's heart beat like a drum, and he wanted her to know the truth more than he wanted anything in the world.

"I don't want Miss Bingley. Not now, not ever." He squeezed her hand. "From the moment you came to Pemberly, you have been my only thought, the very breath I breathe. I tried to ignore the longing you brought out in me, because truly our differences in stations would be a hinderance, but I don't care."

"You don't care about our differences in station? That you're an earl and I'm a vicar's daughter?" she challenged him, removing her hand from his, causing him to feel empty again.

"No, Eliza, I don't care. All I care about is you." He cupped her cheek, his gaze locked on hers. "The only person I want is you for the rest of my life. If you'll have me."