Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
‘I care not,’ he murmurs, his gaze falling upon my lips.
‘Then I do believe our matters for this evening have reached a satisfactory conclusion.’ The power I feel in this moment could never be rivalled. To have reduced a man of such a reputation to wordlessness is quite a feat, and I am proud for holding my own. ‘Good evening, Your Grace,’ I whisper, slowly turning away from him and taking hold of the drainpipe.
‘Eliza,’ he warns as I hop up. ‘I demand you release it at once.’
I ignore him and make fast work of climbing it, extending my leg and toeing the window open before hooking my leg over the edge and pulling myself through. I look out as I take the wood to push it down, seeing him glaring up at me, unimpressed. I scowl and slam the window shut.
And am attacked by mercilessness shakes. ‘Good heavens,’ I whisper, willing some feeling back into my legs to take me to my bed. I collapse, feeling boneless, breathless and nervous. It is in this moment I realise, without question, that I want to let him indulge me. Pleasure me. I cannot fathom a feeling more exhilarating than what I am feeling in this moment, this curiosity, as unexpected as it is, ruling me. My goodness, what just happened?
I fall to my back on the mattress and stare at the ornate ceiling, my hand resting lightly on my chest. I can still feel the pounds. My skin is still heated. And my mouth dry. I’m totally parched.
I get up, remove my boots, and pad down to the kitchen. As I pass my father’s study, I hear rip-roaring laughter, and the irritating sound brings me to a stop. ‘Melrose,’ Lord Lymington slurs. ‘How does the fifteenth sound? Will you have tamed the shrew by then, because Frederick here is growing tired of her escapades.’
‘You have my word, Your Grace,’ Father says surely.
I stare, utterly dumbstruck, at the open space before me. His word? What about my word, for surely that is required also if I am to be wedded? I sneak back to the door. It is ajar, and I peak through the crack. Father is by the fireplace smoking, and Lymington is slumped in a chair by the roaring fire. I cannot see or hear anyone else, as my vision, unfortunately, is hampered.
‘Good. It would be a shame to have to halt the progress of our deal,’ he mutters.
‘That won’t be necessary.’
‘Good. What is the time?’ Lymington feels down his chest, patting for his pocket watch. It’s all I can do not to snigger when I see him look at his quizzing glass, like it might enlighten him. Idiot.
I force my feet to move, to take me away before I unceremoniously burst in and declare my displeasure and embarrass my father in front of half of the male members of the ton. He is a good man, my father. Devoted, loving, semi-reasonable. I can only conclude that he’s suffering a temporary loss of sanity. To pawn off his offspring. To laugh with these pompous idiots.
I guzzle down water ravenously and rush back to my bedroom before my temptations get the better of me, and I’m halfway up the stairs when I hear the front door open. ‘Eliza?’ Frank says, his tone full of questions. ‘I thought you’d retired to your bedroom?’
I cringe but ensure all signs of guilt are wiped from my face before I face my brother. It is only a mild consolation that he is not among the guests in my father’s study. ‘I had.’
He shuts the door quietly, eyeing me with a curiosity I am not comfortable with. ‘And you’re yet to undress?’
Damn it. ‘And I was under the impression that you were sharing after-dinner drinks and snuff with father and his wonderful new friends.’
‘You divert well, sister.’
‘As do you. Where have you been?’
‘Where have you been?’
My fingers become stiff, clawing around the wooden handrail of the staircase. ‘I simply have not yet got to the chore of undressing, that is all.’ I take no pleasure from lying to my brother. None at all. ‘I found myself lost in a book.’
His eyebrow quirks. ‘Be careful, Eliza,’ he warns quietly, coming to the bottom of the stairs.
‘Of what?’
‘You are a desirable young lady here for her first season in London.’
‘And what of it?’
‘I expect you will be in the sights of many unsuitable suitors. Just remember––’
‘Do not tell me I’ll die if I kiss a man before I am married, Frank.’
‘You will most certainly die if you kiss a man before you are married.’
I laugh but quickly quieten myself down. ‘Oh, behave, will you? I fear, brother, that both you and Papa need to consider the possibility that no respectable lord or gentleman will willingly take on me and my escapades.’ I cannot bring myself to imagine that perhaps Frank might know of this deal. All at a price.