A Wicked Earl's Widow Read online

  An hour went by, the trio lying on their back, quoting favorite lines of poetry, naming shapes from the clouds above. The day was perfect, the sky a brilliant cornflower blue, and she had a taste of what it felt like to be carefree. This is what she wanted for Althea. Eliza turned her head, studying the handsome profile next to her. That he was attached to her daughter, she was certain. That he was attracted to her, she had no doubt. But did he hold any stronger feelings? Did she?

  Yes. She loved him. After sorting through her feelings, she realized he evoked a much stronger passion, a deeper need than with Carson. There had been so much gratitude in that bond. He’d treated her like a human being instead of property to be traded, sold, or used at will. She’d been thankful, but had grown emotionally since that time.

  With Nathaniel, a hunger drove her to be near him, to close her eyes at the sound of his voice. Let his presence wash over her, stir her pulse, make her throb in those intimate places. Never seeing him again would burn a hole in her soul. And yet she must go. He was the type of man that once committed, his love professed, would never go back on his word. Eventually, he would recognize her for what she was. The pain of seeing regret in his eyes would keep her strong. They would leave as soon as she had word from Scotland.

  “I’ll pack up and send the groom on with the basket.” Hannah rose and smoothed out her dress. “After I soak my feet in the river.”

  Eliza watched as Hannah removed her boots, picked up her skirts, and waded to the edge of the river. Far off to the west, dark clouds gathered, promising rain to come.

  A scream startled her. Just off the shore, Hannah wobbled on the edge of a rock, lost her balance and fell. Nate jumped up, running for the river bank. His sister slapped at the water, swimming the short distance to the rock. A giggle rose above the splashing as she gripped at the stone and pulled herself back into the shallower water, collapsing on her bum. Nate reached her, held out a hand, and pulled up his dripping wet sister.

  “I think I’ll return earlier than planned.” She picked up the hem of her dress, scrunched it up then wrung it out. A puddle formed beneath her, surrounding her stocking feet.

  “Yes, we’ll help gather everything and head back. You must get out of those clothes. Thank goodness it’s a warm day.” Eliza knew if a wind picked up, Hannah could still catch a chill.

  “Oh no, stay. Why should all three of us sacrifice rest of the afternoon because of my clumsiness?”

  “I can’t… We can’t—”

  “Of course you can. My brother may be a flirt but he would never take advantage. And no one will be the wiser if you spend an hour without a chaperone.” She grinned. “It’s not like you’re a young naïve miss in her first season. Gracious, you’re a widow!”

  “We wanted to show you the tree with the gruesome face in the trunk. It’s so clear, as a child Hannah thought it could talk.” Nate laughed. “She was furious when she found Maxwell hiding behind the tree.”

  “Oh yes, Eliza. You must see it. The face is like something from Merlin’s tale.” She laced up her boots. “It will take an hour or less. You’ll be right behind me.”

  She agreed against her better judgment. As the pair rode away, Nate whispered in her ear, “Now I shall ravish the fair maiden!” He reached for her, giving her plenty of time to dash away. With a giggle, she escaped his arms and ran for the horses.

  They retrieved their mounts and rode into the woods for a quarter of an hour. They stopped in front of an ancient oak, its twisted bark forming a misshapen face, complete with swirling eyes and a gaping hole for a mouth. A child could easily be convinced it was a magical tree.

  “I see how Hannah was duped. This could be an illustration from Grimm’s Fairy Tales.” She moved the mare closer, bending down to rub her hand along the tree trunk. “We must bring Althea to see it.”

  A clap of thunder spooked Eliza’s mare. She pulled back on the rains and murmured soothing words as she stroked its tense neck. The air was heavy with the threat of rain.

  “Those clouds were moving faster than I thought,” said Nathaniel. “Ready for a gallop?”

  She nodded and they made their way back to the meadow. Just as they left the shelter of the woods, lightning ripped the sky and fat drops of rain began to fall.

  “If it were only rain, I’d still say gallop back, but I hate to risk your safety in a storm.” He pointed back at the woods. “We’ll take shelter in the woodcutter’s shed.”

  They moved as quickly as they could. Wind whipped leaves from the trees and sent the smaller wildlife scurrying for cover. The canopy of green provided some relief from the downpour but Eliza was still grateful to see the small cabin. Nate helped her from her horse, opened the door for her, then took the horses around back and tied them in a lean-to.

  The cottage was one room, simply furnished, and dry. There was a small wooden table with two chairs, an oil lamp, a bed… Pish and perdition! She blushed at the sight of the small four-poster bed. The hearth was cold and dark with a stack of wood neatly piled next to it. A rocking chair faced the fireplace, and a thick fur rug lay in front of it. A small nightstand stood next to the bed with several books and a candle.

  The door opened and Nate walked in, brushing the rain from his riding jacket. He peeled it off and placed on the back of one of the chairs. “I’ll start a fire for us. Between the rain and the wind, I’m chilled. How are you?”

  She nodded. “Cold and wet. This is a much better option than trying to beat the storm. There’s a fine book selection Grace stocked the place.” She fingered the leather-bound books of Blake, Cowper, and Tennyson. But it was Pride and Prejudice that she picked up and opened. Grace had sent her this book, the last one she’d read before leaving home and becoming a bride. Such romantic nonsense had filled her head.

  “If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever.” Nate said from behind her, his breath warm against her neck.

  Eliza shivered from the nearness.

  “Are you cold? The fire should heat this small room up quickly enough.” He sat on the bed and took her hands, pulling her between his legs. He searched her face, a question in those beautiful eyes that had nothing to do with the temperature.

  “You unnerve me at times,” she replied honestly. “Yet I’m drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Trite, I know, but appropriate.”

  “That implies I could cause you harm.” His jaw ticked, his grip tightening on her fingers. “I would never hurt you.”

  Her throat swelled. “No, but leaving this place will hurt though I must go.”

  “Why?” One simple word, a question impossible for her to answer so he understood.

  “I… I must secure a future for my daughter. Running from my father was a temporary solution. Lady Falsbury is right, I must find a way to keep us protected. Without sailing to America,” she added with a sad smile.

  Nate stood and pulled her close. She closed her eyes, his body warming the coldest corners of her heart. Why not enjoy this tenderness while she could? Why not be selfish for just this afternoon?

  His head dipped, his mouth hovering above hers, their breath mingling. The room fell away, time suspended, and there was just his lips on hers. She closed her eyes and gave in to the passion, her arms sliding around his neck, fingers threading through his thick gold-streaked hair. He feathered kisses along her neck and she arched in response, her body molding to his, feeling his growing desire.

  Nate pulled away then held her close, cradling her head on his shoulder. “Marry me,” he whispered in her ear.

  The beat of her heart grew so loud, she thought she’d misheard his words until he repeated them.

  “Marry me, Eliza,” he said louder. “Let me be a father to Althea and keep you safe forever.”

  “I-I…”

  He tipped her chin up, his eyes soft with affection. “You care for me, I know. There is passion between us. If you don’t love me yet, it will come. Many couples have begun with less.”
r />   Her chest tightened and she shook her head. “I care for you a great deal, which is why I cannot marry you.” Turning away, she blinked back tears. Emotion would not help her now. Be strong. “I appreciate the kindness of your offer, though I could never subject to such a life.”

  “Pardon me. Subject me to what? A life with a beautiful, gentle woman and her precocious, adorable child? Please God, strike me down now if there is a better fate for me.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, Eliza. I will marry you.”

  “You do not know me. A man of your standing requires a wife of potent character, of good breeding skilled in the social graces. A woman who does not flinch at an angry tone or draw back at an unexpected wave of a hand. You would come to regret your union with me.”

  “Never. Your family’s title exceeds mine—”

  “NO! I’m… I’m flawed, I’m tainted with my father’s blood. My background is sordid and ugly.” She pushed away from him and walked to the hearth. The crackling fire cast warmth into the room but it did not reach her heart. The ache of having everything she’d dreamed of within in her reach, and unable to snatch it. How could she make him understand she could never be his equal?

  He stood behind her now, and Eliza longed to lean back into him, go back to where they had been a few hours ago. The chance to enjoy any intimacy with him was gone now. How those memories might have served her in the years to come. For this was the man she would love until her dying day. She knew it with the same certainty that she knew her father would never give up his quest for her.

  “Why would the Falsburys, Kit and Grace love and care for you so much if they thought you unworthy and ‘tainted’? Your mother’s blood, Graces’ blood is in you as well. Good outweighs evil, don’t you see?”

  His hands stroked her arms, rubbing warmth into her as he spoke is a soft, soothing tone. Oh, how she wanted this man. Not only for herself but for Althea.

  “Yes, they care for me and shelter me. They understand I am weak, someone who needs their strength and protection. You would grow tired of that. Why can you not see what they see?”

  “In Lord Sunderland and Falsbury’s defense, they have never seen you wield a whip. I have.”

  His fingers smoothed the hair back from her face and stroked it, leaving a trail of fire down her back. A tear slipped down her cheek and she dashed it away. It would make him want to comfort her and she felt herself giving in.

  “Look at me, Eliza,” he demanded as he turned her around to face him. He tilted her chin up. “You misinterpret fragility with weakness, flaws with scars. For one so well read, I should not have to explain the difference.”

  He cupped her face again, the pads of his thumbs stroking her skin, stoking the heat within her. If she looked into those kind, loving eyes, she would be lost and all resolve gone.

  Nathaniel thought he would drown in a sea of violet. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears and his jaw clenched, knowing he could not take the agony of the past. But he could ensure no more pain marred their future.

  “My mother said you would try to deny me. Because of you, she has come to terms with her own past. I’ve learned more about myself in the past few days than I have in my entire life.”

  He told her of the revelation of his father. The picture his mother had painted and he’d believed for so long. His misgivings and concerns that he would be like his father.

  “In the end, we create our own person. We are who strive to be and who those around us help us to be. Anyone can overcome their past with enough determination and support from loved ones. The key is allowing others to do that, to swallow our pride and lean on them when we need it. In return, they will lean on us one day.”

  “I had no idea I had any influence on Lady Pendleton, even indirectly.” She bit her lip peeked at him through her lashes. “But your father was no monster.”

  “No, he wasn’t, but I was wounded all the same. Perhaps not physically but in here.” He took her hand and laid it over his heart. “You are not weak but scarred. Terrible wounds do that. But the pain goes away and with time the scar fades. It may never totally disappear. I know that. But it will grow fainter as the years go by.”

  “A reminder of the past.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, never taking his eyes from hers. “An ugly reminder some days but also a beautiful remembrance of how much you’ve overcome.”

  He brushed his lips over her trembling ones, tasted the sweetness, and dipped his head to claim her mouth. She stood still, not moving, not breathing. Then with a gasp, she threw her arms around him. Tears streamed down her cheek and mingled with their lips, a salty aphrodisiac that fed his desire.

  “Don’t give me an answer now. Instead, think over all I have said.” He bent and kissed her again then feathered her neck with light kisses. “I’ll say this and no more until you’ve heard from your relation.”

  She looked up at him and he saw the hope in her eyes. The yearning to believe his words. “Remember this. I love you, Eliza. Lean on me now, so you I may lean on you as we grow old together.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mid May

  Pendle Place

  Landonshire had bided his time, knowing that perseverance and cleverness always prevailed. The situation was just as his paid mole had described Eliza’s daily routine included a walk with her daughter after breakfast each day. The governess would collect her ward and the hound, then Eliza would spend time tending the plot of herbs. She’d always been a muttonhead that way, wanting to get her hands dirty and enjoying the outdoors.

  Last Saturday had been quite a boon. Eliza had gone on a picnic with Pendleton and his sister. He’d watched the sister fall in the river and take her leave with the groom. Then Pendleton and Eliza had gone into the woods to look at some ridiculous tree. The storm hit and they had taken refuge in a cabin. The whore had stayed with the viscount until the storm had passed. Soaked to the bone, he’d waited until they left then entered the structure. It had been worth the chill to find this hideaway.

  The little cabin presented the perfect hiding plan for his plan. Bringing Eliza home would take too long. There would only be hours between the time he could snare his prey and Pendleton returned home. Falsbury and Sunderland could easily intercept him on the way. Instead, he’d sent his paid ruffian to escort Lady Landonshire here. He licked his lips, imagining her tied up on the bed of the deserted shed, her eyes wide with fright. His wife would be the cat’s paw in this upcoming scene. Eliza would watch as he thrashed her mother. He’d learned some tricks over the years, ways to keep the blood flow down but heighten the pain. His blood heated thinking of the scene to come. The screams and groans of pain, the terror in their eyes, the pleas to stop. Mercy was not one of his virtues, he thought with a grin.

  The staff was busy in other areas of the property this time of day but a stranger might attract attention. Noting the color and style of Pendleton’s coat and horse each morning, Landonshire had used the last of his blunt to purchase the same. His own mount had grown long in the tooth, so he’d had to spend more than anticipated and throw in his pocket watch. But if someone spotted him riding along the back of the property, they would think it was the master returning home.

  This morning he’d been careful to keep a safe distance upwind from the gardens, so the hound wouldn’t catch an unfamiliar scent and tip off any of the groundskeepers. Watching the older woman walk away with the girl and hound, he chuckled at his granddaughter holding the dog’s ear as if it were a hand. She was a pretty little thing. If he could get her away from Falsbury, she might be worth something to him one day.

  Too bad about the viscount. After their romantic tryst, Landonshire almost had a pang of sympathy for his daughter. If her next husband didn’t linger too long, and Pendleton remained a bachelor, they could marry then. He would have his thirty thousand, Bellum would have his heir, and he didn’t care what the little whore did after that.

  With a shrug, he dug the sharp spur into his stallion�
��s flank, drawing blood and sending the beast lunging down the hill. It was time to collect the merchandise.

  Eliza knelt in the herb plot and pulled a weed away from the rosemary. The garden was therapeutic. Watching the new growth, tending the soil, inhaling the spicy scent of herbs was a balm in itself. She could clear her mind and think while she tended the herbs. And there was so much to think about. Marriage. Nathaniel. A family. Was his love genuine or only an infatuation with the woman he thought her to be? Oh, how she wanted to stay at Pendle Place, marry this wonderful man, and live happily ever after.

  Black boots appeared on one side of her. Nate! He’d come back early. A hand pulled back her hair and she smiled. Then fingers dug into her skull, grabbed a handful of hair, and snapped her head back. She stared into the face of her father. Nooo!

  “Good morning, my sweet daughter. I’ve missed you.” His other hand covered her mouth. “Let’s not be too loud in our excitement in being reunited, eh? I have a pistol, and anyone who tries to stop us will find out what a good shot I am. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, eyes wide and body trembling. Show no fear. Show no fear. He fed on it and grew stronger. Eliza would not give him more power. Breathe in…and out. In…and out. Her mind calmed. Now think!

  He slowly removed his hand from her mouth. “We’re going for a little ride. Your mother is anxious to see you.”

  Mama? Oh God, what had he done to her mother? “You’re taking me home?” Falsbury or Sunderland would find her there. They might even be able to catch them if she found a way to slow down their progress. But the next words sent a chill down her spine.

  “I like the little haven of love you and Pendleton visited the other day. Deserted, rarely used. We’ll have plenty of privacy while we…talk.” He yanked her hair again and pulled her from the garden plot onto the stone path. “I’m sure you remember how I love to talk.”