Page 13 of The Earl’s Scarred Bride (Taming the Gillets #2)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

E lizabeth was in the morning room reviewing household accounts when Harrison appeared in the doorway. "My lady, Miss Harriet Cooper has arrived."

Her heart leaped at the mention of her sister. She hadn't seen Harriet since helping her escape, though they'd exchanged letters through Dinah. Setting aside her ledgers, Elizabeth rose just as Harriet burst into the room, her cheeks flushed from travel.

"Elizabeth!" Harriet flew into her arms. "Oh, I've missed you terribly. When I received your letter about the marriage, I couldn't stay away another moment."

Elizabeth held her sister tightly, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender that reminded her so much of home. When they finally pulled apart, she saw tears glistening in Harriet's eyes.

"This is all my fault," Harriet whispered, touching Elizabeth's cheek. "You married that rake because of me. Because I was too cowardly to face Father myself."

"Hush now." Elizabeth guided her sister to sit beside her on the settee. "The marriage was...not what any of us expected, but I assure you, I'm well settled here."

Something must have shown in her expression because Harriet's eyes narrowed. "Settled? Or something more?"

Elizabeth felt heat rise to her cheeks. How could she explain that Cecil had awakened feelings in her she'd never thought possible? That his touches, even the most innocent ones, set her blood on fire? "The earl has been...kind," she managed.

"Kind?" Harriet's voice cracked. "Like James was kind before he..." She broke off, pressing her fingers to her lips.

"Harriet? What happened?"

"He left," her sister whispered. "Without a word, without even a letter. All his grand promises about waiting until he inherited his uncle's title..." She gave a bitter laugh. "I was such a fool."

Elizabeth gathered her sister close as fresh tears fell. "Oh, my darling. I'm so sorry."

"I thought he loved me," Harriet sobbed against her shoulder. "I would have ruined myself for him, if you hadn't stopped me."

Elizabeth stroked her sister's hair, fury building in her chest at the man who'd broken her sister's heart. "Perhaps it's time to go home," she suggested gently. "Father will forgive you, especially now that I'm..." She hesitated. "Well settled."

Harriet pulled back, wiping her eyes. "You'll come with me?"

"Of course, if you wish?—"

"No." Harriet straightened her spine, and Elizabeth saw a flash of their father's stubbornness in her expression. "No, I need to face him myself. You've protected me long enough, sister."

Elizabeth studied her sister's newly composed expression with a mixture of pride and concern. It seemed their separation had matured Harriet in ways she hadn't expected.

"Are you certain?" Elizabeth asked, reaching to tuck a stray curl behind Harriet's ear—a gesture she'd performed countless times during their childhood. "Father can be...difficult when his pride is wounded."

"Which is precisely why I must go alone.” Harriet captured Elizabeth's hand in hers. "But first, tell me truly—are you happy here? I've heard such stories about the earl's reputation, his previous broken engagements..."

Elizabeth felt her pulse quicken at the mention of Cecil. Images from their latest encounter in his study flashed through her mind—his hands on her skin, his lips against her neck—and she pushed the memories away, fighting a blush. "The stories don't tell the whole truth of him," she said carefully.

"Your cheeks tell quite a different story," Harriet observed with a ghost of her old teasing smile. "Good heavens, Elizabeth—you're actually fond of him, aren't you?"

"It's...complicated," Elizabeth hedged, rising to pour them both tea to hide her flustered state. "Cecil is not what I expected. He can be demanding and infuriating one moment, then surprisingly thoughtful the next."

"You speak of him quite familiarly now. And you're blushing again, sister."

Elizabeth handed Harriet a cup with perhaps more force than necessary. "You're reading far too much into simple courtesy between husband and wife."

"Am I?" Harriet took a delicate sip. "Then why won't you look at me when speaking of him? The last time I saw you this flustered was when Lord Pembrooke's son tried to steal a kiss in the garden and you slapped him."

"That was entirely different," Elizabeth protested. "I was outraged by his presumption."

"And now?" Harriet pressed. "What presumptions does your husband make that put such color in your cheeks?"

Elizabeth nearly choked on her tea. If only her sister knew about the wicked things Cecil whispered in her ear, the way his hands...

She cut off that dangerous line of thought. "We've reached an...understanding," she said primly.

Harriet set down her teacup with an unladylike snort. "An understanding? Is that what we're calling it now? Because the way you keep touching your neck when speaking of him suggests something far more interesting than an understanding."

Elizabeth's hand dropped from where it had indeed been tracing the path Cecil's lips had taken just yesterday. "You're being scandalous," she chided, though her voice lacked conviction.

"I'm being observant," Harriet countered. "And what I observe is my proper, responsible sister looking rather...well-kissed."

"Harriet!" Elizabeth glanced anxiously at the door, though she knew the servants wouldn't dare eavesdrop. "You cannot say such things."

"Why not? You're married to him, after all." Harriet's expression softened. "And I must say, it's refreshing to see you so...alive. You've spent so many years being Mother and Father and chaperone all at once. Perhaps it's time you allowed yourself to simply be a woman."

Elizabeth felt tears prick at her eyes at her sister's words. "I hardly know how anymore," she admitted quietly. "For so long, my only thought was ensuring your future. And now..."

"And now you find yourself with a devastatingly handsome husband who clearly affects you deeply." Harriet reached for her hand. "Tell me truly, Elizabeth—are you falling in love with him?"

The question struck Elizabeth like a physical blow. She'd been so careful not to examine her growing feelings for Cecil too closely, knowing their arrangement was temporary. Three months, he'd said. And already half that time had passed.

"It doesn't matter what I feel," she said finally. "Cecil has made it clear this is a marriage of convenience only. Once he has his heir..." She trailed off, remembering how she'd told him she didn't want children. Had she unknowingly sealed the fate of their marriage with those careless words?

"But that's not what you want anymore, is it?" Harriet's voice was gentle. "I can see it in your face when you speak of him."

"What I want hardly matters," Elizabeth replied, her fingers twisting in her skirts. "Cecil has his own demons to battle. And I..." She touched her scar unconsciously. "I'm hardly the sort of wife a man like him would choose to keep."

"Stop that," Harriet said sharply. "You've spent years hiding behind that scar, letting Father's cruel words convince you it makes you somehow less. But I've seen the way the earl looks at you—even at the masquerade, before he knew who you were. He couldn't take his eyes off you."

"He was probably trying to determine if I was the sister he was meant to marry," Elizabeth said dryly.

"Or perhaps he saw what I've always seen—a beautiful woman who's too busy taking care of everyone else to notice her own worth." Harriet squeezed her hand. "The question is, dear sister, what are you going to do about it?"

Elizabeth stood abruptly, pacing to the window. Outside, the gardens Cecil's mother had lovingly tended stretched toward the horizon. "There's nothing to be done," she said. "Even if I...even if my feelings have changed, Cecil was clear about his expectations. Three months to secure an heir, then freedom for us both."

"And what if his feelings have changed too?" Harriet pressed. "Have you asked him?"

Elizabeth gave a hollow laugh. "Asked the most notorious rake in London if he's developed tender feelings for his scarred, temporary wife? I think not."

"The same rake who hasn't been seen at any of his usual haunts since your marriage? Who, according to Dinah's letters, spends his evenings in his study with you rather than carousing with his friends?" Harriet rose to join her at the window. "Men don't change their habits so completely unless their hearts are engaged."

"Or unless they're honoring their word about fidelity," Elizabeth countered, though something warm flickered in her chest at her sister's observations.

"Fidelity?" Harriet's eyes widened. "You made the Earl of Stonefield promise to be faithful? And he agreed?"

"It was a condition of our arrangement," Elizabeth muttered, though she could still hear Cecil's dark laugh when she'd made her demand. Still feel the heat of his breath against her ear as he'd promised to make her beg for his touch.

"An arrangement that seems to grow more interesting by the minute," Harriet observed. "Tell me, does this arrangement also include the way your breath catches whenever you speak his name? Or how your eyes darken when you think no one's watching?"

"I don't—" Elizabeth began, but Harriet cut her off.

"You do. Just as you're doing now." She touched Elizabeth's flushed cheek. "Oh, Elizabeth. You've spent so long being strong for everyone else. Perhaps it's time to be brave for yourself?"

"Brave?" Elizabeth whispered. "Or foolish?"

"Sometimes the bravest choices look foolish to others," Harriet said softly. "Like helping your sister escape an unwanted marriage, knowing you might take her place."

Elizabeth's throat tightened. "That was different."

"Was it?" Harriet's eyes filled with fresh tears. "You saved me from a marriage to a man I never loved, only to find your own heart at risk with him instead. The irony would be amusing if I didn't feel so wretchedly guilty."

"Don't," Elizabeth said fiercely, pulling her sister close. "Never feel guilty for following your heart, even if it led you astray. At least you had the courage to try."

"And now?" Harriet pulled back to study her face. "Will my brave sister find the courage to fight for her own happiness?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps in the corridor made them both freeze.

"I should go," Harriet said quickly, pressing a kiss to Elizabeth's cheek. "Think about what I said, sister. Some risks are worth taking."