Chapter Eleven

T he next morning when Ellis came down to breakfast, she learned that Owen had gone away to the nearest large town for the day. Joan said he had to collect some art supplies that had been sent from London, and he wouldn't be back until late. If then.

"Sometimes he stays over for a day or two," Joan said.

Ellis was disappointed, and she wondered if this was her fault. Was he intentionally avoiding her after their kiss? He hadn't come to dinner the night before, and it had been a quiet affair on her own. She was used to her own company at Breamore, although Archie and Elijah were always there if she needed them. But she still spent a great deal of time alone.

It felt different now because she had begun to enjoy being with Owen, looked forward to it. She was becoming reliant upon him, and she wasn't completely sure if that was a good thing. Recently she had learned how her world could change in an instant, and there was only herself she could really trust. Yes, he had helped her escape a potentially tragic situation, but did that mean she should look upon him as someone who had her best interests at heart? Why did she feel as if she knew him?

After breakfast she did some exploring. The Lodge was not a big house. With thick stone walls and small windows—apart from the one in Owen's study—it was built as a shelter from the dangers outside. Which made it seem appropriate that she was here, taking sanctuary.

She found some shelves of books in a sitting room and spent some time browsing them but there was nothing that took her interest, apart from one of Owen's picture books. She took the book up to her room and looked through it from cover to cover, agog at the beauty of his drawings while at the same time imagining herself in those poses.

As she examined the images, she realized she felt a little envious. Owen had sat with these women, he had seen every curve of their bodies, every expression on their faces. In a way, he had known them intimately. And that was when she admitted she didn't want him to draw anyone but her.

"You are being ridiculous," she told herself.

But she couldn't seem to help it. From the moment Owen had first opened the door to her, she had been captivated by him in a way she had never been by any man before. What on earth was she going to do about it?

In an attempt to escape her own thoughts, she set aside the book and returned downstairs. When she heard voices coming from the dining room, she wondered if Owen was back. Her heart began to beat faster and her lips tingled, as if preparing for another kiss, and she hurried forward. When she found the door ajar, she peeped around it.

There was no sign of Owen. Joan and Polly were sitting together in one of the chairs by the window, or rather, Joan was sitting in the chair and Polly was sitting on her lap. For a moment Ellis wasn't sure what she was seeing, and then Polly wound her arms around the housekeeper's neck and kissed her. Joan did not struggle or push her away. She kissed her back.

Ellis made a sound. Immediately afterward she jumped out of sight, a hand covering her mouth. She hoped the two women had not heard her. Surely, they were too engrossed in each other? Until now she had not guessed that Joan and Polly were lovers, although remembering back to some of the smiles and the glances they had exchanged, she supposed she should have suspected.

The door was flung fully open and she gasped.

Joan stood there with Polly peeping over her shoulder. "Miss Mallory," the housekeeper said. There was a silence, and no one seemed prepared to fill it.

"I'm sorry," Ellis said. "I thought I heard voices and wondered if Owen—Lord Lyndhurst—had returned home."

"And instead you found us," Joan replied sternly. "If you are thinking of informing his lordship about Polly and myself then you are wasting your time."

Ellis's eyes widened in distress. "Oh no, I wouldn't do that. And besides, I'm sure he knows already, doesn't he? He is very fond of you both. And there's no reason why you shouldn't love each other. I... I had two friends, gentlemen, who were lovers."

Polly and Joan exchanged one of their glances, and Polly smiled.

"It was just..." Ellis went on, her words tumbling out. "I am beginning to wonder if everyone in the world has someone to love apart from me."

"Aw, there's someone, I'm sure," said kind-hearted Polly. "I was talking to his lordship just the other day and—" She stopped when Joan shot her a warning glance.

"I think you are being disingenuous," Joan said. "You look like the sort of woman who is usually surrounded by a throng of admirers."

Ellis gave a shaky laugh. "Sadly, no. But then again, I do not want to be pursued for..." For her wealth, she was going to say, but thought better of it. "I want that one man who will love me for myself, and who I will love back. For better or worse, I am a romantic."

Polly sighed, while Joan gave her an irritated look. "And you believe that man is Lord Lyndhurst? He is not someone to act against his principles. He has always had a moral code when it comes to his sitters, but Merrily, the last woman he employed to sit for him, shattered his trust and—"

"And now he finds it impossible to set aside his honorable nature in case I am another Merrily," Ellis finished for her.

"Exactly." Joan hesitated, and added, "That's not to say you can't persuade him to go against his principles if you try hard enough. Although I'm not sure he will thank you for it afterward. Especially if you have some secret you haven't told him and which he will not like."

Ellis knew her face was on fire. "Thank you. I have my own reasons for not... that is..." She stumbled to a close and took a step back. "I'm sorry I interrupted. Please, be assured, I wish you only happiness." And she turned and walked away.

Her muddled thoughts began to clear. She was attracted to Owen. She had enjoyed the feel of his lips on hers, the taste of him, the closeness. Last night she had been restless and aching, as if her senses, once awakened, could not be subdued. Daringly, she had run her hands over her breasts, imagining it was Owen touching her, and when the tingle ignited between her thighs, she had pressed her fingers there and wondered what it would be like if Owen made love to her.

She wanted that , she wanted him .

Now that Ellis knew more about Merrily, she suspected she was the reason Owen was so wary around her. Because of Merrily he would refuse to do any of the things she longed for him to do. If it was up to him and his "moral code," he would wave goodbye to her as soon as he had finished his series of drawings. But Ellis wanted Owen to show her the pleasures to be had with a man she admired and desired. She wasn't a fool. He may not be her Elijah, or her Polly, and what she was feeling may not be everlasting love, but there was a strong attraction between them. A sense that despite their short acquaintance she already knew him. She felt it, and she believed Owen could feel it too.

It would be such a waste to ignore it.

Ellis had never seduced anyone in her life, but surely it wasn't that difficult? She had wanted him to kiss her, and he had. If she didn't try, if she let this opportunity pass her by, then she knew she would regret it for the rest of her days. And if Theo had anything to do with it, those days may not be many.

Joan had warned her that even though she may be able to win Owen over, he might not appreciate it afterward. That was a risk, but it was one she was willing to take.