Page 24 of A Wicked Earl's Widow
Nate stared at his steward, his mouth slack.
“Don’t look so shocked at the suggestion. I’ve seen the two of you together.” He picked up his hat and fitted it to his head. “But that’s just what I’d do.” He walked out of the study whistling a bawdy tavern tune.
Hannah was playingthe pianoforte when he entered the parlor. Eliza looked up from a book and smiled. He had grown accustomed to seeing her each evening. After Grace and Kit left, Nate had returned to the duties of estate and only saw his guests in the morning and evening. How he looked forward to the evenings.
Eliza had read extensively and, once comfortable with him, sparred well in debates on politics and philosophy. They had not been without a chaperone since the day he kissed her. The mere thought of her touch sent him in search of the cold waters of the River Wear. It was more than physical though. They had much in common besides Grace. Both enjoyed horseback riding and chess, and they shared the same philosophies in life. He appreciated the way she would listen quietly, and then think about her answer before giving an opinion. She treated Mrs. Watkins with respect and did not look down on others because of their birth. When he’d commented on this, Eliza responded that those who were born to privilege had an obligation to those who were not. It had sounded like something Maxwell would say.
Now that his estate manager had made his approval of Lady Eliza known, she’d been on his mind even more than before. When Maxwell had planned a tour of the properties to introduce her in the village, Nate explained the need for secrecy. The man never blinked. The next day he’d invited her instead to witness the end of their lambing season. Neither man had been able to decide which event was more delightful to watch—the birth of the lamb, Eliza’s observation, or Althea playing with the wobbly newborns.
And then there was Althea. Nate had grown fond of the little chit. No, if he were honest, he was quite smitten. Trying to figure out some of her speech had turned into an amusing game for he and Hannah. She’d enchanted the entire household. The head groom had a pony saddled for her daily. Cyrano had become her constant companion. The hound followed her everywhere, even slept next to her bed. It had put Eliza’s mind at ease to know the dog watched over her. His howl would wake the dead if anyone approached the child.
“Hmm, your brother looks far away tonight.”
He blinked at the sound of her deep husky voice. “Good evening, my lovely ladies,” he said with a bow. “I’m distracted by such beauty.”
“Gah!” cried Hannah, rolling her eyes and not missing a note on the keys.
He took a seat next to Eliza and peeked at the title of the book she held.
“Waverly. The historical novels with romance, by the not-so-anonymous author Walter Scott. Do you like it?”
“I do. Have you read it?”
“No, the Scottish Uprising, death, and multiple lost loves don’t appeal to me for leisurely reading. I prefer something thoughtful like Thomas Paine.”
Eliza closed the book. “Do you believe the unknown author of the series is Walter Scott?”
“The ton certainly thinks so. I’ve only read his poetry so I wouldn’t try to presume. I do think he’s a bit of a coward not to put his name on it.” He leaned back against the loveseat, their bodies almost touching. If he took a very deep breath, their shoulders would touch. “It’s warm in here. Care for a stroll in the garden?”
“Oh, yes. Hannah, a walk?”
His sister looked up from the pianoforte. “Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you. I need to…get this chord figured out first.”
Nate stood and held out his hand. She took it, pink spreading across her cheeks as he pulled her toward him. Dropping her fingers, he held out his arm. “We’ll stay close until you finish,” he told Hannah as they walked by.
“No need, I can find you easily enough.” She plunked at a combination of keys, concentration drawing her brows together.
They walked into the cool night air. The full moon above lit their path and bathed the plants and flowers with a golden glaze. He heard Eliza sigh, a soft contented sound that made him his heart glad.
“Are you enjoying your stay here?”
She nodded. “I cannot express how happy Althea and I have been. I worry about Lady Pendleton though. I read to her for a bit this afternoon, but I could tell she was uncomfortable. Her legs are swollen and pain her.”
He nodded. “Dr. Goodman will see her again tomorrow before he leaves and make a diagnosis.”
They walked about a circle of azaleas ready to bloom and continued down another walk. The full moon revealed her silhouette through the pale blue muslin, her golden tresses glowing in the evening light. Wisteria had bloomed along the trellis, the sweet scent still clinging to the white and red petals.
“You seemed distracted when you came into the parlor. Are you concerned for your mother?” she asked, her eyes sparkling even in the shadows.
“I’ll be happy when we know what ails her. But Dr. Goodman will have her up and around in no time. I have complete faith in him.”
“Yes, he seems like a fine doctor.”
He was finally alone with Eliza, had a moment to say whatever he wanted, and they were making polite conversation. His chance would soon be gone.
“The truth is, you were on my mind, and our trip to the lambing shed. I enjoyed watching you and Althea.”I want to watch you every day.
“We both enjoyed it immensely. Mr. Maxwell is a kind man to put up with us.”
