Page 41 of A Virgin to Trap the Earl of Thornhill
“Despite your relentless meddling, I suppose I shall miss your company,” William admitted, a playful glint in his eyes. His voice softened, a hint of genuine affection threading through his words. “Thornhill will certainly be quieter without you.”
A ripple of laughter echoed through the group at his remark, their shared bond visible in their twinkling eyes and beaming smiles. Amidst the laughter, Jasmine, ever the practical one, stepped forward and wrapped him in a warm embrace.
“William, it is not like we are departing for the colonies,” Jasmine chided him. “Although, with how much you have been cloistering yourself in this estate, one would think you are the one in need of good company.”
William smiled, releasing her from the embrace. “I was under the impression that you all were my good company, Jasmine.”
She laughed, a bright sound that echoed in the quiet morning. “That we are, dear brother. But your horizons need broadening. You are becoming quite the hermit, William.”
He frowned, mildly taken aback. “The house party is not over yet. There will still be plenty of company.”
Her laugh this time was soft, almost teasing. “Oh William, you really are out of touch, aren’t you? The lovely young ladies all received invitations from the Duchess of Hartville. There is a ball in London. By tomorrow, Thornhill will be as empty as a hermitage.”
His heart tightened at her words. So Eris would leave too. The prospect filled him with an unexpected melancholy. “I see,” was all he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
With a last squeeze of his arm, Jasmine climbed into the carriage, leaving William on the steps of Thornhill, watching as his family disappeared down the driveway, and with them, any semblance of normality he had felt these past days. As he returned to his study, he could not help but wonder what the future held and whether it would involve a certain Eris Saffron.
Settling into his chair, he regarded the stack of neglected paperwork on his desk, but his mind was elsewhere. His thoughts, unbidden, drifted toward Eris. Miss Eris Saffron. Her name rolled off his mind like a familiar tune, one that he had begun to find irresistible. His heart ached at the thought of her leaving, a sharp sting that caught him off guard.
He could still feel the softness of her lips against his, the way she had looked at him with those dazzling blue eyes, full of desire and innocence. She had stirred something within him, something he had long thought dormant. She had bewitched him, ensnared him in a web of fascination and longing he had never thought possible.
But it was impossible. It had to be. Eris, with her family’s impending scandal and her overbearing parents, was an unlikely match. His mother would be aghast. He could already hear her dismissive tone, see the disappointed shake of her head. The ton would be scandalized, the whispers of gossipmongers circling them like hungry sharks.
Yet a part of him bristled at the idea of his life being dictated by others. He was the Earl of Thornhill, a man of considerable power and influence. He had shouldered the responsibility of his title and faced the challenges that came with it head-on. Yet, when it came to his personal life, he felt like a puppet, his strings manipulated by societal expectations and familial obligations.
The fire in the grate flickered, casting dancing shadows across his stern features. He was tired of conventions, of responsibilities, of shouldering burdens that were not his own. A slow, sardonic smile curved his lips. Since when did he care about societal conventions?
With a determined glint in his eyes, he pushed the stack of paperwork aside. He would deal with it later. Tonight, his thoughts were his own, and they revolved around a certain enchanting woman who had bewitched him body and soul.
A day passed before the Saffron family was due to leave, and with every tick of the clock, the knot in William’s stomach grew tighter. It was not until the family’s trunks were being loaded into their carriage that he found Eris standing alone in the library, her eyes distant as she gazed out the window.
“Eris,” he began, his voice soft, “I need to speak with you.”
At the sound of his voice, she turned to face him. Her eyes, once so warm when they looked at him, were now guarded and distant. “We have nothing to talk about, William.”
“Please,” he urged, stepping closer, “I —”
“Stay away from me,” she interrupted, her voice trembling. But he could see it in her eyes, the same longing that matched his own.
“I do not want to stay away,” he admitted, his gaze never wavering from hers. “I cannot even think of you leaving before we can kiss again.”
Her eyes flashed at that, a flurry of emotions crossing her face before she steadied herself. “What is the point, William?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “If you are never going to marry me, what is the point of all this?”
His heart ached at her words, at the pain etched across her face. He longed to take her into his arms, to erase all the hurt and confusion. But he could not. Not yet. He was still grappling with his own feelings, with this inexplicable pull he felt toward her.
The raw vulnerability in her eyes tugged at him, strumming an ache deep within his heart. There was a silent plea dancing in her gaze that echoed his own tumultuous emotions. A battle waged within him: his wish to bring her comfort in his arms and the fear of causing more hurt by doing so. His fingertips lightly brushed her cheek, a silent testament to the storm brewing within him.
“Eris…” he began, his voice barely a whisper. He faltered, words knotting up in his throat, stuck in the tangle of emotions writhing within him.
Seeing her there, a beacon of strength yet so desperately vulnerable, his resolve crumbled. He leaned forward, his lips capturing hers in a desperate kiss, the taste of her stirring a passion he had long kept buried. But as quickly as it began, he pulled back, a warring mix of regret and desire etching lines onto his face.
“I need time, Eris,” he choked out, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. Each syllable echoed in the silence that followed, punctuating the whirlwind of emotions swirling around them.
Her eyes widened at his confession, a tumult of emotions flashing in their depths, but before she could respond, a creaking sound echoed in the hallway outside. Her head whipped around toward the sound, a look of alarm crossing her face. “William, my parents,” she whispered urgently, a note of panic edging into her voice. “They’re watching us.”
Her startling revelation dawned on him. Her parents had been on the lookout, hoping to catch them in a compromising position. A bitter taste of anger mixed with regret filled his mouth.
“Perhaps,” he responded, tension lining his voice. The realization hit him hard. His hand fell from her face, their intimate moment shattered.
