Page 37 of The Duke
“You don’t have to do that,” Kit said as Elsie started folding up Flora’s dropped shawl and ribbons. “Send for a maid.”
“And disturb Flora again?” Elsie shook her head. “I don’t mind, I’ve done it enough times for myself, or my sister when she was unwell. Besides, sometimes I think there is a sense of putting the world to rights even if it is just in one room.” She smiled down at the ribbons as she laid them down on the dressing table, and Kit had to suppress the desire to cross the chamber and hug her. With easy soft movements, she moved around the bedroom soothing and settling anything that looked out of place. No wonder Flora had felt safe enough to fall asleep, in Elsie’s company there was the abiding feeling of security.
It was ironic, Kit thought to himself as he watched her covetously, how he had always hoped to give Flora that sensation, and then this diminutive northern woman swept in, and with her mere presence instilled a sense of home.
“I will stay with her.” Elsie glanced up at him. “She asked me to.”
“Do you think it necessary?” He had hoped to be able to stay in Flora’s room, to stand guard and to focus on that. If Elsie remained, then he would hardly be able to ignore her.
“Perhaps, perhaps not, but I think it wiser to humour her. It is no trouble for me. Especially…” She paused.
“Yes?” Kit braced himself for whatever comments or pointed remarks Elsie could justifiably make. She moved a little closer, and her hand pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, he watched as the curl slotted behind her ear. How he would like to bite down on the small shell of her earlobe.
“You suggested I should be her companion?” Elsie asked. “If that offer remains, staying here would be the least I could do for her.”
“What would make you think I would withdraw that offer? Surely you do not think I am such a braggart?” He hoped she didn’t, although he wouldn’t blame her if she did.
A smile creased Elsie’s face, illuminating her with a glow of grace that surprised him in the way it simply flowed out of her—goodness, kindness, and willingness to help others. It wasn’t enough simply talking to her, and watching her move, why did he constantly want to touch her? Yes, there was an overwhelming sensual component to it, and yet, there was also the sheer desire to be close, to smell the scent of her hair, to nestle in her small but surprisingly strong body. To be comforted and to give comfort, and then perhaps to whisper the thing he wished more than anything else to say, “Please let me keep you.”
It would fade. He had been telling himself that since Elsie arrived in his life, and admittedly it hadn’t happened yet. But surely, at some point it would.
“In that case, I will stay outside.”
“There is no need.” Elsie followed him towards the doorway. “I can lock the bedroom and ensure we are both well.” She put her hand out and touched his arm. “Flora was relieved you dealt with the matter so quickly… I know you are far more familiar with her, but I can see how well she trusts you.” Her fingers lingered on his shirt, and Kit could no longer resist. He snatched up Elsie’s hand, lifting it to his lips and placing a fervent kiss upon the palm.
For a brief moment, he saw a hesitation pass over Elsie’s face, as if she were being pulled in two different directions, and then she leant up on her tiptoes and gently kissed his mouth. It was such a contrast to their earlier coming together, this time all sweetness and softness, her mouth pressing against his until Kit wished to the bottom of his heart that he could deepen the kiss, that they weren’t in his sister’s room, but his own.
When that idea entered his head, he pulled back, Elsie’s forehead coming to rest beneath his chin, and he slowly let himself pull her in close. Revelling in the feeling before she said, her words tangling in the folds of his shirt. “After tonight you know we cannot be like this again.”
He had realised he was waiting for her to say that. Of course,they both knew it.
“Is that so?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to Flora.” Elsie leant back, her pointed chin raised as she gazed up at him. “Her companion should be above reproach.”
It was true and yet… how Kit wished he had never even kissed her. How much simpler things would have been. A temptation tasted was worse to give up. He saw that now.
“Tomorrow—or rather I suppose I should simply say in the morning, you and I can discuss this further. We have a great deal to talk over it seems.” It was not a conversation he was particularly looking forward to, given he felt sure of the particulars—all of them rather dry and exacting, and none of them as sweetly romantic as he’d prefer them to be.
“Do you think the dawn will bring some clarity?” There was a faint note of humour to her question as she watched him step away and move towards the door again.
“Yes.” Kit gave her a smile. “Everything will be better in the morning. Lock the door behind me.” He waited for the sound of the key turning, knowing he had told Elsie a lie. As he walked down the corridor towards his own chamber, the thought twisted through him with vile certainty. All that the morning would bring was the unpleasant consequences of his actions and possibly a broken heart.
An odd thing realisation dawned on him as he slipped into his own bedroom. As he discarded his snatched-up clothes and splashed a little cold water from the pewter bowl onto his face, he pondered the quandary—he had assumed that to suffer a broken heart, one would have to have a heart originally—one which might be offered out. As he stretched out on his bed, staring up at the canopy above him, rage and unspent confusion ravaged his thoughts, but what overwhelmed him was the disquieting idea that he had lost his heart without even realising that it was in play.
CHAPTER 19
The following afternoon Elsie had made up her mind about the following points. One, that she had enjoyed writing lists in her youth, they had encouraged her to remember things and most crucially get her tasks completed. With that in mind, Elsie resolved she would begin again. Today. So, on to point two, which was that last night’s kiss might have been the greatest kiss that she had ever experienced. If she allowed herself the luxury of remembering it—recalling the scratch of his whiskers, the way Kit had cupped her face and stroked her cheek whilst his tongue had delved into her mouth, robbing her of her senses and wisdom—if she indulged in the memory, she would forget a key part. The most important reason why Kit had kissed her last night was incidentally her point three, and possibly the most important point, he was saying goodbye to her. Or at least to their dalliance.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Elsie knew there wasn’t any purpose in adding any more items to her list, as the final point was the key, and the thing she was having the greatest trouble accepting.
“There you are, miss.” Samson bustled in, carrying a tray laden with tea things, and a large slice of fruit cake. “I’ve beenround and round the house, in all the rooms looking for you. I suppose I should have checked the library first.” Samson’s good cheer delivered with a happier bounce of words than was normal for her, convinced Elsie that her maid hadn’t been just dallying with the driver, Clary, but was clearly rather enamoured of him. But her maid also could not possibly have heard the news of the butler’s dismissal—or at least not the real reason for it.
“Thank you, Samson,” Elsie said, lowering herself into the nearest armchair, and reaching for the teapot. It was lukewarm, and yet Elsie did not have the heart to send Samson away to bring back any hotter water. Not when the reason she had been lurking in the library on the pretence of finding a book, when all she really wanted was to run into Kit. A swell of disloyalty to her normally bookish tendencies, wriggled through her, and she forced her mind back to questioning Samson. “I don’t suppose you have heard about?—”
“About Peterson?” Samson’s bright eyes encouraged questions, and Elsie nodded, realising that perhaps her maid’s good cheer was less to do with romance and more to do with gossip. “Oh, you will never guess…” Samson edged closer. “I got down this morning to the kitchen as I do every day, and there was such a hullabaloo. I have never seen the like. Not even when poor duke Ashmore…” she trailed off, looking uncomfortable. “You will remember that day miss. Horrible day. God rest his soul.”
“Amen,” said Elsie, and to this Samson nodded most earnestly.
