Page 13 of Snowbound with the Earl (Snowbound #2)

“I’ll return in a moment.” Eva took Noelle’s cup and went to the tea caddy. As Noelle watched, Eva lifted a napkin hiding a small flask, poured a quantity in Noelle’s cup, and replaced the flask again.

She returned to the couch and handed Noelle the tea with the added spirits.

Noelle took a sip and almost coughed. “Good,” she managed.

The drink was strong, but Noelle knew she could use it.

If all went as she hoped, this would be the first time in years she would lie with a man and the first time, she hoped, she might enjoy it.

“Was Turlington giving you grief?” Eva asked.

“He tried, but I can manage men like him.”

“I’m sure you can.”

A moment later they heard the men’s voices. The drawing room doors opened, admitting Dorsey with Swinton at his side. Eva rose to join her husband. Noelle watched the other men enter, searching for Graham.

He wasn’t with the other gentlemen. Her throat felt dry, and she couldn’t manage a deep breath. Was he in his chamber now? Had he dismissed his servant? Had he removed his coat? His neckcloth? His shirt?

She clenched her hands on the couch cushion.

Was he waiting for her?

Surely, he was. She rose unsteadily, catching her teacup before it tilted too far and she spilled the rest of the tea.

Needing the courage, she finished the tea and brandy and placed the cup on a nearby table.

Eva was directing the arrangement of the chairs for the musical performance.

Noelle moved toward the drawing room doors, pausing to speak to Mrs. Redmond.

“I think I shall retire,” she said. “Would you let Lady Dorsey know and give my regrets to Miss Edmonton and Miss Halifax?”

“Of course, my lady. Are you well? Your eyes are very bright.”

“Just a slight megrim,” Noelle said. “Once I take my hair down and put my head on the pillow, I will be fine.”

Noelle slipped out of the drawing room, hoping no one else noticed her.

If they did, so be it. She was not about to turn back now.

The foyer was empty, and she ascended the grand staircase alone.

The scent of Christmas greenery was everywhere, and she breathed it in as she attempted to force more oxygen into her lungs.

Graham would hardly be tempted by her if she collapsed as soon as he opened his door.

If she fainted this copper-colored dress would be a waste, and she’d only worn it because she knew she looked exceptionally well in this color.

She turned east when she reached the top of the stairs and counted the rooms until she stopped at the third. She hoped Swift had been correct. If a manservant opened the door, she couldn’t exactly ask if this was the Earl of Evergreen’s room.

She looked over her shoulder to make sure the corridor was empty then raised her hand and tapped lightly on the door.

It opened before she could even lower her hand.

Graham stood before her. She’d imagined him naked to the waist, but this was almost as good.

He wore a robe, unbelted, revealing a V of tanned flesh.

He’d changed into loose black trousers and his feet were bare.

She stared at his feet. They were surprisingly attractive.

“Noelle.”

She jerked her head up to look in Graham’s eyes. He must have been reading because he wore his eyeglasses. The round, gold-rimmed spectacles suited him somehow, adding an air of gravity to a visage that was handsome enough as to make one wonder if he was just a pretty face.

“Come in before someone sees you.” He moved aside, and she slipped past him, catching the fresh scent of pine and something darker and smokier.

The door closed with a click, and she wet her lips and turned to see him leaning against it.

“Wine?” he asked, removing his spectacles.

Noelle had to catch her breath when his lapis blue eyes locked with her darker-colored ones.

“I’d better not.” Her heart pounded painfully against her chest, and she willed it to return to its normal speed. “I had a healthy dose of brandy in my tea before I came up. If I imbibe any more, I may fall asleep.”

“That’s the last thing I want,” he said. Noelle took in a sharp breath as heat flooded her cheeks. Graham cleared his throat. “I mean to say, we have much to discuss. That was why I asked you here. I want to talk.”

“I want that too,” she said, though conversation was the last thing on her mind. “Shall we sit?” She indicated the bed then realized that seemed very forward, and her cheeks heated further. She was a widow who had been married ten years, and here she was behaving like a virgin.

“Yes, let’s be seated.” He gestured to two chairs near the fire and waited as she took one.

He had a larger chamber than she. He was an earl and the highest-ranking guest in attendance.

He’d probably been given the best room. His bed was huge with four carved wooden posts reaching up into the vaulted ceiling.

The coverlet was a heavy red damask, and matching draperies hung at the windows.

She sank into the high-backed chair and forced herself to take a breath to calm her pounding heart.

They were just talking. That was all...for the moment.

“First of all, I should apologize for not offering my condolences before. I should have written, but failing that, there’s no excuse for not expressing those sentiments when I first saw you—”

“Graham?”

He raised his brows.

“Please, don’t.” She swallowed her rising emotions. “I don’t want your condolences. I know you don’t care that Bonneville is dead.”

“I couldn’t care less about Bonneville. I’m expressing sympathy to you, for your loss.”

“I’m not grieving him,” she said. “And I don’t mean because a year has passed, and I’m allowed to wear colors now and attend social events.

I never grieved him. I never loved him, nor did he love me.

He married me because he needed an heir and a new roof on his family pile.

He seemed pleased he at least got the roof. ”

“I heard his nephew is the new viscount.”

“He is, and he’s as odious as Richard. Fortunately, my father negotiated a favorable marriage contract, and I have property and an income.”

“I’m surprised those weren’t contingent on your producing offspring.”

“Well, Bonneville’s first wife also produced no children, so there was a question as to culpability and, though unspoken, a concern that, at the age of sixty and in poor health, Bonneville might not be able to perform.

” She felt heat rise to her cheeks, but she kept her gaze on Graham, unwilling to look down.

She had nothing to be embarrassed about.

“And was he?” Graham asked. Apparently, he too had decided to put embarrassment aside and ask what he really wanted to know.

“Unfortunately, yes. For the first few years we were married, I was treated as a brood mare. Then, thank God, he lost interest, and finally, he was simply too ill to do his duty. At the end, he was resigned to his nephew inheriting.”

“I hope he didn’t blame you.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t like that.

He wanted an heir because it was his duty to produce one.

As long as he did his duty that was all that mattered to him.

He married two women, neither gave him an heir, despite his best efforts, and that was that.

He didn’t care enough about me to blame me for not falling pregnant with his child. ”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? He never pretended to care. I was under no illusion that he did.”

“Then why marry him?”

She sighed. “You know why, Graham.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You wanted to be a viscountess.”

She shook her head. “I never cared about that.”

“Your father cared. He cared a great deal. I used to think the one good that came from my cousins’ deaths was that your father would regret having refused me. I hope he’s kicking himself because if he’d agreed, you would have been a countess.”

“He’s never mentioned any regrets to me. I don’t know if he has them, but I know I do.”

Graham looked away. “You made your choice.”

“Does that mean I can’t regret it? Does that mean I didn’t spend every single minute of every single day wishing I had gone against my parents’ wishes and followed my heart?”

Graham’s expression was stony. “Am I supposed to pity you?”

“No.”

“I begged you, Noelle.” His expression didn’t change, but his voice held a tremor. “I bloody pleaded with you. I have never begged anyone for anything, but for you, I got down on my knees, and I begged.”

“I know.” Her eyes stung with unshed tears. She hadn’t known she had any tears left to shed over losing Graham. “It killed me to refuse you.”

“It killed me to watch you walk away. For months I thought I’d never be able to take a deep breath again. Every time I closed my eyes at night, I imagined you in his bed, his gnarled old hands on you, his thin, papery lips on yours.”

She closed her eyes, blinking back the tears. “Well, you were wrong about the lips. He rarely kissed me. He didn’t even touch me much. He was very...perfunctory.”

“Do you think that makes it better?”

She shook her head and opened her eyes. “No. I know you blame me, Graham, but what was I supposed to do? I was barely eighteen. My parents kept telling me I was too young to know what I wanted. They insisted I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t marry Viscount Bonneville.

They said they loved me; they knew what was best for me.

They begged too, Graham. They begged me to respect their decision and to honor their wishes.

I am their only child. How was I supposed to disappoint them? ”

He raked a hand through his hair, the anger seeming to leave him as he blew out a breath. “I detest them.”

“So do I.”

His gaze cut to hers. “What?”

She nodded. “Yes, over the years I came to detest them. When I married Bonneville, he took me to the country, away from all my friends and my family. My parents never came to visit, no matter how many letters I wrote pleading for them to come. Just for a day. My mother didn’t care that I was miserable.

She used to answer me by saying that she was the fifth daughter of a duke and would have been grateful to marry a viscount.

Instead, she’d had to marry a commoner. I should have been thanking her. My father—”

“Only cared about political power.” Graham nodded. “He told me when I asked for your hand. He said rejecting me was nothing personal, but if he was to become prime minister, he must aim higher for you.”

Noelle felt her belly churn, though Graham wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. “I suppose we may both feel some vindication that he never became prime minister and doesn’t look likely to either.”

“Seems petty,” Graham said, and for the first time, she caught a smile playing on his lips.

“I hope you don’t think I am above pettiness.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he said.

His face drained of color as he seemed to realize what he’d said.

“What I meant was...” He waved a hand, as though brushing away the comment.

Noelle held it close, though, unwilling to part with her one spark of hope.

“What do your parents have in mind for you now?” he asked.

“The mourning period has ended, and you are still a young woman. Surely, you might still be of use.”

Noelle looked down at her hands. Graham knew her parents well.

He might even know them better than she because when her mother had started mentioning Noelle remarrying in her letters just a few months ago, Noelle had dismissed the idea.

And yet, her mother continued to bring it up, no matter how forcefully Noelle resisted.

Part of the reason she had come to this house party was to delay the holiday visit to her parents.

Noelle suspected they would use the visit to exert pressure on her to marry again.

No doubt her mother had drawn up a list of eligible men.

But Noelle was no longer a child of eighteen, and she had no intention of conceding to her parents’ wishes on this matter, or any other, again.

“What they want doesn’t matter. I’m no longer a child afraid to gainsay my parents. I’m an independent woman, and I shall do as I please.”

“And what’s that?” He leaned back in his chair, his expression curious.

“Well, for one, I’d like to help Miss Halifax. I’ve been in her position, and I know a little of how she feels.”

“She attempted to trap me into marriage. Forgive me if I don’t give a damn how she feels.”

“Graham, you know that scheme was not her idea. Her father forced her into it.”

Graham shook his head. “Be that as it may, I don’t see how you might help the girl other than what you’ve already done. Thank you, by the way. Miss Halifax is a sweet girl, but I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life married to her.”

Noelle tapped her chin. “She must marry someone, though. What do you think of Lord Jersey? He’s probably twenty years older than she, but he is looking for a wife. She could do worse.”

“I don’t want to talk about Miss Halifax or Lord Jersey.” Graham leaned forward.

Noelle took a fortifying breath. “I understand. I’ve explained my view of our—the—past. You haven’t yet said your piece.”

“You’re right. I still have questions. The first among them being, what the hell was wrong with Bonneville?”

Noelle blinked.

“Why didn’t he kiss you?”

She shook her head in confusion. “I don’t know. I don’t think he cared much for physical touch. I assure you, I didn’t mind. I did not want to kiss a man old enough to be my grandfather.”

“So before this morning, you hadn’t been kissed in over a decade.”

Noelle furrowed her brow. “I suppose not. I suppose the last person who kissed me before today was...” She looked up at him. “You.”

“I never gave you a proper kiss when I courted you. I was too much the gentleman.”

“I always wished you’d been less of a gentleman.”

“And what do you wish for now?” he asked, his voice low.

Noelle opened her mouth, afraid she was too much of a coward to tell him what she really wanted. She dug her fingernails into the arm of the chair. “I still wish you’d stop playing the gentleman.” She let him see her gaze swing to the bed. “I want you to take me to bed.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”