Page 7 of The Earl’s Scarred Bride (Taming the Gillets #2)

CHAPTER SEVEN

T he morning sun streamed through the windows of Stonefield Manor's drawing room as Elizabeth sat with her closest friend, Dinah Barnes, who had arrived unexpectedly with Baron Trowbridge in tow. Elizabeth couldn't help but notice how her father had positioned himself as far from her as propriety allowed, his disapproving gaze sweeping over the changes she'd already implemented in her new home.

"The earl has been most generous," Luke announced, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "The debt has been settled completely, though heaven knows I didn't expect such swift resolution given the...circumstances."

Elizabeth's fingers tightened around her teacup. "How fortunate that my hasty marriage proved so convenient for your finances, Father."

Luke's expression hardened. "Mind your tone, daughter. Just because you wear a countess's coronet now doesn't mean you can forget your duty to show proper respect."

"And what of your duty?" The words slipped out before she could stop them. "Have you even asked how I fare in my new position?"

"Your position," Luke replied coldly, "is to be an obedient wife to the earl. Nothing more, nothing less. You would do well to remember that, considering your...limitations." His eyes flickered to her scar.

Dinah reached over to squeeze Elizabeth's hand, her quiet support worth more than any words could express. At twenty-one, Dinah had been Elizabeth's only true friend through countless London seasons, never once flinching from her scar or treating her as anything less than whole.

"Tell me," Luke continued, his tone growing more instructional, "have you been ensuring the earl's comfort? Managing his household properly? A man of his standing expects certain standards?—"

"I assure you," Elizabeth cut in, her voice steady despite her rising anger, "I am quite capable of managing an estate. I've had ample practice, after all."

The barb struck home, and Luke's face flushed. Before he could respond, the butler appeared in the doorway.

"My lady, Miss Barnes's maid has arrived with a package she forgot in their carriage. Shall I have it brought in?"

Elizabeth seized the excuse for escape. "I'll help Dinah retrieve it myself. Father, please excuse us for a moment."

She practically pulled Dinah from the room, desperate for a moment away from Luke's critical gaze and barely veiled disappointment.

Once safely away from Luke's earshot, Dinah pulled Elizabeth into a nearby parlor, closing the door behind them. "Now then, tell me everything. Harriet's letter arrived at my house yesterday—she still doesn't know about the change in brides, does she?"

Elizabeth sank into a chair, her composure finally cracking. "No, she doesn't. I haven't known how to tell her. She'll be devastated, thinking she forced me into this match."

"Didn't she?" Dinah asked gently, producing a sealed letter from her reticule. "This came for you. She's still at your aunt's estate, wondering why she hasn't heard from either of you."

Taking the letter with trembling fingers, Elizabeth broke the seal. "I should have written to her immediately, but everything happened so fast. The wedding, moving here, learning to navigate Cecil's moods?—"

"Cecil, is it?" Dinah's eyebrows rose. "Not 'my lord' or 'the earl'? Do tell, dearest. What exactly has transpired between you and your rakish husband?"

Elizabeth felt her face heat as she remembered their encounter in his study, the challenge he'd issued, the way he'd almost—but hadn't quite—touched her. "He's...not what I expected."

"Meaning?"

"He's infuriating," Elizabeth burst out. "One moment he's issuing commands about forbidden rooms, the next he's..." She trailed off, her blush deepening.

"He's what?" Dinah leaned forward eagerly.

"He passes me in corridors and his hand brushes mine, as if by accident. He stands too close when we speak, his voice dropping to this maddening whisper. He looks at me as if..." Elizabeth shook her head. "As if he can see right through every defense I've built."

"Good heavens," Dinah breathed. "And you don't welcome these attentions?"

"I don't know what I want," Elizabeth admitted. "He proposed a challenge—said he wouldn't touch me unless I begged for it. Called it a game, but sometimes I think..." She twisted her handkerchief nervously. "Sometimes I think he's trying to drive me mad."

"Or perhaps," Dinah suggested with a knowing smile, "he's genuinely attracted to you, and this game is his way of showing it without frightening you away."

"Attracted? To me?" Elizabeth's hand unconsciously rose to her scar. "Don't be absurd. He's Cecil Gillet, the most notorious rake in London. He could have any woman he wants."

"And yet," Dinah pointed out, "he seems rather focused on having you."

"He doesn't want me," Elizabeth insisted, though something in her chest tightened at the thought. "He wants an heir, nothing more. He said as much himself."

"Did he?" Dinah tilted her head thoughtfully. "Then why waste time with these games? Why not simply exercise his husbandly rights and be done with it?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. She'd wondered the same thing during her sleepless nights. Why would a man known for his direct pursuit of pleasure suddenly turn to such subtle tactics?

"And these forbidden rooms you mentioned," Dinah pressed. "What?—"

The door swung open, and Elizabeth's heart leaped into her throat as Cecil himself appeared in the doorway. His tall frame filled the entrance, and his eyes immediately found hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

"My apologies for interrupting," he said smoothly, though his gaze remained fixed on Elizabeth. "I returned early from my business in town and heard we had visitors."

"My lord," Dinah curtsied prettily, and Elizabeth didn't miss how Cecil's charm immediately surfaced as he turned to her friend.

"Miss Barnes, isn't it?" His smile was devastating. "I remember you from Lady Morrison's ball last season. You were wearing blue, if I'm not mistaken."

Dinah blushed becomingly. "I'm flattered you remember, my lord."

"How could I forget? You were the only lady who dared to critique my waltz technique." He winked, and Dinah actually giggled.

Elizabeth felt an unexpected surge of something that definitely wasn't jealousy tighten her chest. She'd seen Cecil deploy his charm before, but watching him use it on her dearest friend made her want to?—

"Your father awaits us in the drawing room, I believe?" Cecil's voice cut through her thoughts as he offered his arm to Elizabeth. "Shall we?"

She took his arm, trying to ignore how even this simple contact made her skin tingle. As they walked, he bent his head close to her ear and whispered, "Your pulse is racing again, wife. Surely you're not jealous of my attention to your friend?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she hissed back, but she felt his low chuckle rumble through his chest where their arms connected.

"If you want my attention," he murmured, his lips barely brushing her ear, "you need only ask."

They entered the drawing room to find Luke pacing before the fireplace, his expression darkening at the sight of his daughter's flushed cheeks. Cecil's grip on Elizabeth's arm tightened imperceptibly as he guided her to a seat, then positioned himself between her and her father—a subtle gesture that didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the room.

"Ah, Stonefield," Luke's attempt at a jovial tone rang false. "I was just discussing with Elizabeth the importance of proper wifely duties?—"

"Were you?" Cecil's voice dropped several degrees in temperature. "How fascinating that you feel qualified to instruct my wife on her duties in my own home."

Luke faltered slightly. "I merely meant to ensure?—"

"That she maintains the high standards expected of a countess?" Cecil's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I assure you, your daughter has exceeded every expectation. The estate has never run more efficiently."

Elizabeth looked up at her husband in surprise. He hadn't mentioned any approval of her changes to the household management.

"Yes, well," Luke shifted uncomfortably, "there are other duties a wife must?—"

"I believe," Cecil cut in, his tone now arctic, "that any discussion of my wife's duties falls under my purview alone. Unless you're suggesting you know better than I what I require in my marriage?"

The challenge in his voice was unmistakable. Luke had the grace to look abashed, though his eyes still held that familiar disapproval when they flickered to Elizabeth.

"Of course not, my lord. I simply want to ensure Elizabeth remembers her place?—"

"Her place," Cecil interrupted again, "is as my countess. And I'll thank you to remember yours, baron."

The silence that followed was deafening. Dinah looked between them all with wide eyes while Elizabeth held her breath, watching her father's face turn an interesting shade of puce.

"Perhaps," Luke managed finally, "it's time we took our leave. Miss Barnes?"

Dinah rose quickly, shooting Elizabeth an apologetic look. "Thank you for your hospitality, my lord, my lady."

Cecil's charm returned as he bowed over Dinah's hand. "A pleasure as always, Miss Barnes. Do call again—though perhaps with different company next time."

The pointed remark wasn't lost on Luke, who struggled to maintain his dignity as he made his farewell bow.