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CHAPTER SEVEN

Eliza was stricken. A pail of icy water thrown over her person would have been less of a shock.

“For you to doubt yourself only shames me , for I do not doubt myself. You and Michael were friends once, yes, but during my marriage to him you were an acquaintance at best. I have been widowed for eight years. And during this time, I have come to know you better and reveal more of myself to you in letters than I did to him in my marriage. So I, for one, feel no guilt in being here. Terrified by the chance of a scandal? Yes. Worried this may end in never receiving another letter from you? Yes. But no guilt. So, what kind of person does that make me ?”

Eliza hated the tears brimming at her eyelids. She was not sad, she was frustrated. Her plans to tame this unattainable rake were drifting astray. A man who had spent most of his life as a reprobate had suddenly decided to feel guilt.

Robert watched her, in concern, alarm? And she could not help but laugh.

“Eliza, all you said is true. And please, do not let my melancholy thoughts give you ill will of yourself. You are all goodness and perfection. You deserve a husband who will treat you like his queen. I know Michael was not that for you. And I am glad I kept away and was not privy, as it would have made me want to steal you away even more.”

His eyes burned with emotion and her whole body sighed with relief.

“You do not regret me being here with you?”

“Not at all. I never did. Any questions I had were of myself, my own character. I asked you here to give me three days of your company. To give me your mind and body. A well-bred lady who should be courted instead of seduced.”

He had failed to mention her heart, however. Eliza pushed the thought aside.

A throat clearing interrupted their conversation.

“Your Grace, my lady, your meal is ready.”

“I have asked my valet, George, to serve our meal in the dining room.”

“It smells wonderful.” The scent of roasted pheasant assaulted her, and she realised how hungry she was.

George spooned out white soup while she asked Robert for an update on his hounds and their pups.

The foul was served with peas and cauliflower smothered in butter sauce.

Another bottle of claret was opened, and Eliza was warm and giddy.

“I have a surprise for dessert. I remember your love for raspberry and lemon–so we shall be having lemon tarts with a raspberry cream.”

“How sinfully delicious that all sounds”.

“I want you to enjoy every bite.”

The dessert was now on the table, and George had disappeared. Robert picked up one of the bitter tarts and lathered it in cream before holding it up to her lips.

“Open your mouth for me, Eliza.”

Feeling wicked, she took a bite of the treat and deliberately licked his finger.

His brown eyes darkened with desire, and he tutted her.

“You are playing with fire, my sweet Eliza.”