Page 152 of Romancing the Rake

CHAPTER SIX

Guilt had spread through Robert while he waited for Eliza.

As much as he wanted to ignore it, he had to face it.

Had it been callous to lure his dead friend's widow to his cottage to debauch her? Reflecting on this, he tried to recall how often he had even seen Michael and Eliza over the course of their marriage. He could count the times on one hand. In truth, he and Michael had drifted apart, mostly due to Robert’s need to distance himself.

He had known that more time with Eliza would fester the already stinging wound.

Gossiping courtesans from the circles he travelled in had told tales of evenings spent with his old friend, and Robert had been astounded.

Why would Michael give up the privilege of his sweet Eliza for a paid charade?

The news had made him smile—no matter what a cad he seemed, he had revelled in this titbit.

Perhaps this revelry was why, when Michael had passed suddenly in a carriage wreck, he had felt so guilty.

That and the impulsive decision to promise Eliza he would look after her, but had instead only written her letters for so long. W hat kind of man does this make me?

“George, pour me a drink,” he said, upon hearing footsteps enter the room.

“My, my, aren't we very brooding this eve?” said Eliza in her light lilt.

He turned and drank her in. The hours that had passed had felt like days and her fair hair glowed in the well-lit room.

“My apologies, Eliza. I did not mean to bark an order at you—or anyone.” He caught himself hastily. He was a reprobate, this was true, but he treated his staff well.

“No apology needed, I am more than happy to pour you and myself a drink. And instead of an apology, you can share your thoughts.”

She moved to pour the claret. He had brought a cask of wine with him, knowing it to be a rare treat while they still fought the French.

His father had bought many in 1802, anticipating that relations would soon sour again.

Handing him a glass, she sat and looked at him expectantly.

He sighed. She was not only expectant but determined.

“If you must know, I was thinking of your departed husband.”

She sloshed wine on her dress in shock.

“Is this your idea of seduction, Robert?”

“That came out wrongly in my haste.”

“I am confused. Continue to be hasty and explain.”

Robert knew he was teetering on the brink of disaster with the direction of his thoughts. As much as he wanted to engulf himself in the passion burning between them, a little voice inside taunted him. Torturing. Criticising him for wanting this woman so desperately

“I have yearned for you, Eliza, burned for you for years, and now I have you here and cannot help but feel guilty.”