The Wedding Trap (35 page)

Violet commented on her relentless pace, but Eliza assured her she was simply having fun. Even Jeannette noticed Eliza’s uncharacteristic élan, remarking how zealously she seemed to be embracing the last few weeks of the Season, Jeannette’s words tinged with apparent admiration for Eliza’s seemingly boundless energy.

As for Kit, Eliza did her utmost to avoid him without being obvious. Surrounding herself with her small but faithful band of suitors, she let them act as a kind of shield. Careful to keep at least one of them always by her side, she managed to spend relatively little time in Kit’s company.

If he objected, he did not say, although she found his gaze upon her more frequently than she wished, a brooding expression glittering in his jewel-toned eyes.

At home, she took breakfast in her room before bustling downstairs to plunge into the myriad events comprising her day, careful to leave no opportunity for a chance meeting or private coze with Kit. Despite her earlier determination, she didn’t trust herself to be alone with him, fearing how easy it would be to fall prey to his magnetic charms yet again.

This afternoon, however, she could not elude him completely, numerous members of the Winter family, Kit included, having gathered just outside of London for an outing at the estate of one of Adrian’s cousins.

From her perch inside a small rowboat, being expertly steered by Viscount Brevard, she had a clear view of the thirty-odd guests arranged in leisurely groupings on the grassy shore. Some were seated upon blankets beneath the shade of mature, leafy trees, while others strolled the verdant grounds and gardens.

Counted among their number were several children, including the twins, Sebastian and Noah, and baby Georgianna, who, at eight months of age, had developed a lively crawling style that kept Violet and the children’s nursemaid scrambling to keep up. Jeannette and Darragh had brought little Caitlyn as well. A playmate for Georgianna, she charmed everyone with her infectious, infant laughter. Darragh’s siblings were having a merry time visiting with other young people near their own age, including Franny Brevard and her friend Jane Twitchell.

Three of Adrian’s sisters and their families were also in attendance, including Sylvia and her husband, both of whom had recently come up to Town to spend a few weeks. Unwilling to leave their brood, they had brought their children as well, all six of them—five boys and Emma, the much-cherished only daughter.

Screams and squeals resounded in the air as the children raced and played, the adults letting them do mostly as they pleased with only an occasional reprimand to quiet them down.

Off to one side moved a small contingent of servants, busily working to set up the elegant alfresco buffet where the whole party would dine in a short while.

Eliza caught sight of Kit as he strolled up to one of the tables and snatched a handful of what appeared, from a distance, to be fresh berries or nuts. He ate his pilfered bounty, laughing and teasing one of the serving girls as she halfheartedly tried to shoo him away.

With an uncomfortable tightness squeezing her throat, Eliza forced her gaze aside and focused again on Viscount Brevard. He was telling her about his estate in the Cotswolds, his voice infused with an unmistakable pride for his ancestral home. From the description of the place, he had every right to feel boastful, the house and grounds appearing a veritable haven, with several thousand acres of prime land and two natural, deep-water lakes.

Currently being rowed across a far less vast, yet nonetheless lovely artificial lake, Eliza dipped her fingers into the water, enjoying the sensation of cool wetness flowing against her skin as the little boat glided forward. She angled her parasol to catch a moment of warm June sunshine on her face before returning the silk covering to its proper position so her skin did not burn.

“Are you comfortable?”

She glanced toward Brevard where he sat at the opposite end of the boat, plying the oars in a smooth, easy motion.

“Very comfortable,” she answered in complete truthfulness. A light breeze stirred, luffing against her cheeks, teasing her short curls. “I am glad you convinced me to come out. I have rarely been boating and never in such fine style.”

“Then I must remember to take you out onto the water more often. In fact, it would be my very great pleasure if you and the duke and duchess would join me at my estate sometime during the coming weeks. Fall, in fact, is a perfect time to visit a pleasant stone pavilion I have that sits along the shore of my northernmost lake. Franny and I have been known to take a meal there on occasion, enjoying views of the waterfowl and other wildlife that are brave enough to venture close. I know you take delight in nature. I believe you would enjoy the experience.”

Visit his home? she thought. Gentlemen asked ladies to visit their estate only when they were considering a more serious attachment. Was Viscount Brevard thinking about asking her to be his wife?

She had her answer to that question a moment later when the viscount lifted the oars from the water and set them dripping in their side hooks.

Allowing the boat to drift, he leaned toward her. “Miss Hammond, Eliza, I realize this is not the most conventional of locations in which to speak my heart, but it is one of the few that affords us utter solitude.”

She held her breath for an instant, unsure whether or not she wanted him to proceed.

Meeting her gaze, his eyes appeared a vivid blue, far bluer than the lake water surrounding them. “Surely you must not be unaware of my regard for you,” he continued. “From the moment of our first, albeit unconventional, meeting, where I spied you on that runaway horse, I have been captured by your beauty and grace and, yes, your amazing bravery. Since that time, I have come to discover how sweet and wise you are, how generous and kind, all qualities a man desires in the woman with whom he would choose to share his life.”

Reaching out, he folded one of her hands inside his own. “Eliza, I love you. Please say you will be my wife.”

Staring at the hand to which he’d laid claim, she wrestled for an answer. What to say when joyous acceptance did not rise immediately to her lips? And yet how could she refuse him?

She had already turned down Lord Maplewood, an admittedly good man with whom she could have made a fine life. To refuse Brevard as well would be sheer insanity.

Heavens above, he was the undisputed catch of the Season. If she accepted him, shock would ripple through the Ton. Astonishment was rippling through her right now, since she had never seriously believed he would offer for her.

And yet, inconceivably, he had. So what to do?

In a thousand years, she knew she could not hope to find a better man. Why, he was practically perfect. Handsome and charming. Intelligent and well educated. Rich and titled. Without question, he would give her everything she desired. A beautiful home. Lovely children. Companionship and protection. He even said he loved her. If only she could feel the same.

Thoughts of Kit flooded into her mind. Lips firming, she pushed them away, along with consideration of his own marriage proposal. Given under duress as it had been, his offer hardly counted. And yet…

And yet what?
she demanded to herself. She had refused him, twice. He was hardly likely to ask again. And even if he did, she still could not say yes, not when doing so would place her in a position of emotional subordination, leaving her to beg for cherished crumbs of his attention and affection.

But would agreeing to wed Brevard be fair to him? And what of her? She had not given up her wish to have babies. She did not want to live her life unmarried, comfortable in her wealth but distressingly, wretchedly alone.

No closer to an answer, she decided she would offer him the truth, and let him direct her path.

Gently drawing away her hand, she curled it in her lap, then gazed upon his gorgeous, chiseled features. “Lance, before I give you my decision, there is something that I believe you have a right to know.”

He smiled in inquiry, one blond brow arching upward. “Oh? What is that?”

“I am not the young lady you may imagine me.”

“Of course you are. You are utterly wonderful.”

“I do not know if you will continue to think that after I tell you what I have to say. I am by no means infallible or without weaknesses. Lance, there was…well, it is over now…but there was someone else. A man.”

“What man?”

“His name is not important. What is of relevance is the fact that if I marry you, I will not come to you with my…purity intact. I am no longer…” She broke off, her cheeks growing hot beneath the shade of her bonnet. “Well, I’m not.”

For a long moment, he was silent. “I see. Did you love this man?”

“Yes.”

“And it is finished, you say? There is no hope for a reconciliation?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Another silence descended.

At length, he spoke. “Well, I suppose you are of an age where I should not be wholly surprised. After all, you are not a young girl just out of the schoolroom. Still…”

“I understand, and you need say no more, but I could not consent to a marriage between us knowing you believed something about me that is not true. You are far too honorable a man for that.”

He reached again for her hand. “You are very courageous to tell me; many ladies would not.”

“You must think me dreadful.”

“No, I think you are a woman who lives by the governance of her own heart. So what does your heart say about me? Could you love me, Eliza?”

Just as she had not lied before, she could not lie to him now. “I can try. I make no promises, but I should like to try, Lance, if you will have me.”

From his vantage point on a slight rise near the buffet table, Kit observed Eliza and Brevard. The pair were rowing out on the lake, but from what he could see, their boat wasn’t moving. In fact, Eliza and the viscount appeared to be in deep conversation.

On what subject?

His jaw tightened, the sweet flavor of the black raspberries he’d eaten turning bitter in his mouth.

For the past two weeks, he’d stood by, silent while Eliza took the Town by storm, sallying forth on the arm of one man after another in a way that was unprecedented, particularly for her.

From all appearances, she was having the time of her life.

And she was doing it—quite determinedly, it would appear—without him.

Since their night together in the study, they had barely spent more than a handful of minutes in each other’s company. At first, he’d thought perhaps she was feeling shy and awkward in his presence after the intimacies they had shared.

But soon he realized her reticence stemmed from something else entirely. As always, she was sweet and friendly to him, smiling and behaving very much as she had always done. Except that something essential was missing now. An underlying warmth that no longer shone in her eyes. A special radiance to her smile that she used to reserve exclusively for him, but no more.

Out of necessity, their love lessons had come to an abrupt halt. Obviously without benefit of marriage their dalliance could not continue unchecked. Yet all the logic and good intentions in the world had not kept him from desiring her, could not prevent him from craving her with a kind of single-minded obsession that bordered on madness.

During the day, he caught himself spinning fantasies, mental wanderings that left him semi-aroused, sometimes in the most untenable of locations and company. At night, she came to him in dreams. Hot, earthy, boldly sexual dreams that left him aching and unsatisfied, sheets twisted around his limbs, his loins throbbing when he came awake.

But what of her? From everything he’d observed, Eliza appeared to have put their night behind her with a sort of cold finality. Could she really turn her passions on and off so precipitously? She said she had wanted him that night, said she had taken great pleasure in their joining. Innocent as she had been, he knew from her earnest, open responses that she had not been lying.

And yet now that their passion was consummated, did she want nothing further? Had their lessons really meant no more to her than a chance to dip her fingers into the dark waters of the forbidden? To experiment in the secret world of libidinous delights, as she had once told him she wished to do?

Such behavior didn’t seem like Eliza.

Then again, her behavior of late didn’t seem like her either.

He didn’t understand what she wanted. For that matter, he barely knew what he wanted, except for one thing.

He wanted Eliza, needed her back in his arms, in his life. Desiring her with a hunger that burned as hot as flame even now. Whatever this spark was between them, he couldn’t let it die. But to have what he wanted meant marriage.

And therein lay a stumbling block.

He’d already proposed—twice—and she had said she did not want to wed him. But he realized now that his words had been those of duty and honor, couched in rather unemotional terms. Perhaps if she understood how much he wanted her, how desperately he craved her touch, she would consent. Many marriages had been built from far less than what the two of them shared. They were friends. If the passion between them should ever fade, their friendship would remain. If he had his druthers, he would wait to marry. And yet the more he considered the idea, the more he liked it.

Yes, he thought, watching as Brevard finally began to row himself and Eliza to shore, Kit would propose to her again.

Only this time she would accept.

Eliza pushed aside her uneaten slice of cake.

Although the bountiful fare at the outdoor luncheon was delicious, she’d found herself mostly picking at her food, using her fork to slide various offerings around on her plate in pretense of actually eating.

Had she made the right choice? she pondered again, as she had done repeatedly over the course of the meal. Was her decision the best one for her future life, her future happiness?

Her indecision was only compounded by her awareness of Kit. On some level, she was always aware of him whenever they were in proximity of each other. Yet today her senses were on the alert, catching his sharp, lazy-lidded gaze focused upon her more than once.