Page 31 of A Wicked Earl's Widow
“Why?” One simple word, a question impossible for her to answer so he understood.
“I… I must secure a future for my daughter. Running from my father was a temporary solution. Lady Falsbury is right, I must find a way to keep us protected. Without sailing to America,” she added with a sad smile.
Nate stood and pulled her close. She closed her eyes, his body warming the coldest corners of her heart. Why not enjoy this tenderness while she could? Why not be selfish for just this afternoon?
His head dipped, his mouth hovering above hers, their breath mingling. The room fell away, time suspended, and there was just his lips on hers. She closed her eyes and gave in to the passion, her arms sliding around his neck, fingers threading through his thick gold-streaked hair. He feathered kisses along her neck and she arched in response, her body molding to his, feeling his growing desire.
Nate pulled away then held her close, cradling her head on his shoulder. “Marry me,” he whispered in her ear.
The beat of her heart grew so loud, she thought she’d misheard his words until he repeated them.
“Marry me, Eliza,” he said louder. “Let me be a father to Althea and keep you safe forever.”
“I-I…”
He tipped her chin up, his eyes soft with affection. “You care for me, I know. There is passion between us. If you don’t love me yet, it will come. Many couples have begun with less.”
Her chest tightened and she shook her head. “I care for you a great deal, which is why I cannot marry you.” Turning away, she blinked back tears. Emotion would not help her now.Be strong.“I appreciate the kindness of your offer, though I could never subject to such a life.”
“Pardon me. Subject me to what? A life with a beautiful, gentle woman and her precocious, adorable child? Please God, strike me down now if there is a better fate for me.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, Eliza. I will marry you.”
“You do not know me. A man of your standing requires a wife of potent character, of good breeding skilled in the social graces. A woman who does not flinch at an angry tone or draw back at an unexpected wave of a hand. You would come to regret your union with me.”
“Never. Your family’s title exceeds mine—”
“NO! I’m… I’m flawed, I’m tainted with my father’s blood. My background is sordid and ugly.” She pushed away from him and walked to the hearth. The crackling fire cast warmth into the room but it did not reach her heart. The ache of having everything she’d dreamed of within in her reach, and unable to snatch it. How could she make him understand she could never be his equal?
He stood behind her now, and Eliza longed to lean back into him, go back to where they had been a few hours ago. The chance to enjoy any intimacy with him was gone now. How those memories might have served her in the years to come. For this was the man she would love until her dying day. She knew it with the same certainty that she knew her father would never give up his quest for her.
“Why would the Falsburys, Kit and Grace love and care for you so much if they thought you unworthy and ‘tainted’? Your mother’s blood, Graces’ blood is in you as well. Good outweighs evil, don’t you see?”
His hands stroked her arms, rubbing warmth into her as he spoke is a soft, soothing tone. Oh, how she wanted this man. Not only for herself but for Althea.
“Yes, they care for me and shelter me. They understand I am weak, someone who needs their strength and protection. You would grow tired of that. Why can you not see what they see?”
“In Lord Sunderland and Falsbury’s defense, they have never seen you wield a whip. I have.”
His fingers smoothed the hair back from her face and stroked it, leaving a trail of fire down her back. A tear slipped down her cheek and she dashed it away. It would make him want to comfort her and she felt herself giving in.
“Look at me, Eliza,” he demanded as he turned her around to face him. He tilted her chin up. “You misinterpret fragility with weakness, flaws with scars. For one so well read, I should not have to explain the difference.”
He cupped her face again, the pads of his thumbs stroking her skin, stoking the heat within her. If she looked into those kind, loving eyes, she would be lost and all resolve gone.
Nathaniel thoughthe would drown in a sea of violet. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears and his jaw clenched, knowing he could not take the agony of the past. But he could ensure no more pain marred their future.
“My mother said you would try to deny me. Because of you, she has come to terms with her own past. I’ve learned more about myself in the past few days than I have in my entire life.”
He told her of the revelation of his father. The picture his mother had painted and he’d believed for so long. His misgivings and concerns that he would be like his father.
“In the end, we create our own person. We are who strive to be and who those around us help us to be. Anyone can overcome their past with enough determination and support from loved ones. The key is allowing others to do that, to swallow our pride and lean on them when we need it. In return, they will lean on us one day.”
“I had no idea I had any influence on Lady Pendleton, even indirectly.” She bit her lip peeked at him through her lashes. “But your father was no monster.”
“No, he wasn’t, but I was wounded all the same. Perhaps not physically but in here.” He took her hand and laid it over his heart. “You are not weak but scarred. Terrible wounds do that. But the pain goes away and with time the scar fades. It may never totally disappear. I know that. But it will grow fainter as the years go by.”
“A reminder of the past.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, never taking his eyes from hers. “An ugly reminder some days but also a beautiful remembrance of how much you’ve overcome.”
He brushed his lips over her trembling ones, tasted the sweetness, and dipped his head to claim her mouth. She stood still, not moving, not breathing. Then with a gasp, she threw her arms around him. Tears streamed down her cheek and mingled with their lips, a salty aphrodisiac that fed his desire.
