Page 17 of A Wicked Earl's Widow
Pendleton issued a mumbled curse and then his boots appeared in her line of vision. A finger touched her chin and lifted her face.
“Forgive me, Lady Eliza, for my temper. You misunderstand.” He gave her a half smile and bent on one knee. “I will gladly play your champion. I meant no to you leaving.”
With his face so close to hers and treating her with such gentleness, she felt dizzy. Her eyes burned and she blinked again, determined to be strong and deserve this kindness. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Nathaniel cursedwhen he saw Lady Eliza flinch. Sunderland had just explained her childhood had been filled with violence, and then he shouted. In anger. The image of anyone beating her, let alone her own father, enraged him. That strange protectiveness had spread through him again, and he wanted to shield her as he would his mother or sister or Grace. Only notquitethe same.
He would have to be more considerate in the days to come. For she would stay under his roof as long as needed. His mother approached and gripped his shoulder. Nate stood, one hand covering hers.
“My dear, we would never turn you away. Even if Landonshire found you here, he would not harm myself or Hannah. As Lord Sunderland said, he is not a fool.” She smiled. “Please, let us think of this as a house party.”
Hannah joined in. “Oh yes! Grace, must you return right away? Stay for a week. We could have such fun.”
Nate silently thanked his family. Lady Eliza’s shoulders relaxed and a tremulous smile brightened her face. He looked into those shining violet eyes, her lashes dark with tears, and his mouth went dry. She was breathtaking. By God, he’d transform this timid creature back into the avenging angel he’d met the day before.
“Not to spoil the moment,” Kit interrupted, “but we still don’t have a solution. And I can see by my wife’s adorable glare that we’ll have a week to come up with a plan. She is rather good at that, you know.”
“Eliza would be much more comfortable with the arrangement if we stayed for a bit,” Grace agreed. “Lord and Lady Falsbury won’t be in London for a few days. Even if Landonshire doesn’t believe the story, we have some time before he makes his way to Sunderland or my father’s estate of Boldon.”
“It’s settled then.” Hannah clapped her hands. “Oh, we’ll have a picnic on the river bank, ride…”
Nate’s mind tuned out his sister’s list. He watched the flurry of emotions crossing Lady Eliza’s lovely face. Something about her drew him, and it was more than her beauty. He wanted to peel away the layers of doubt and fear and find the woman he had glimpsed. But first he must gain her trust. It would be work, she would be wary and resist, he was certain. Taking honey from a bee was a difficult task, yet the beekeeper was rewarded thrice-fold for the effort.
A movement beside him stopped his reverie. Grace took his arm and leaned into him, a brilliant smile sparkling in her clear green eyes.Damnation!Another female had caught his look. Was he so transparent?
She kissed his cheek. “You’re wonderful, you know. Thank you. Eliza is my dearest friend.”
Kit snorted. “Pardon me but I believe this whole plot wasmyidea.”
Giggling, Grace returned to her husband and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. “You already know I think you’re wonderful.”
A teacup clattered against a china plate and Nate saw his mother trying to set the dish down with a shaky hand.
“Mother, are you well?” He was next to her in a heartbeat, taking the dish from her trembling fingers. “You look pale and your hands are ice cold.”
“It’s been an exciting day, that’s all, and I need a rest. We can gather again for supper.” She rose slowly and Hannah hurried to her side. “If you’ll excuse me?”
Nathaniel decided he would send an invitation to Dr. Goodman that afternoon. His mother would be examined by the physician whether she liked it or not. In the meantime, he had guests to entertain.
“Lady Eliza, would you like a tour of Pendle Place?” he asked, holding out his arm. “I admit I’m quite proud of the manor and the estates.”
“As he should be,” added Grace. “At twelve, he learned how to manage the estate, eventually paid off his father’s debts, and made wise investments.”
“You make it sound much more astounding that it really was. I had the best advice and an excellent steward.” Nate shook his head. “I managed not to repeat the mistakes of my father or make any major blunders.”
“Modesty is another of his qualities,” she said with a grin.
“Good God, soon there will be poems in my honor.” Lady Eliza had taken his arm, and he took the lead out into the garden. “Do you read poetry, my lady?”
Her flaxen hair caught the sun as they descended the steps into the manicured, neatly plotted gardens. He was no Byron or Donne, but this woman made him feel romantic.
“Please, call me Eliza, and I do enjoy poetry,” she answered. “I-I’ve even written some.”
“There’s an accomplishment. I can’t imagine the mishmash I would make trying to put words of love on paper. It would be a waste of fine vellum…Eliza.”
He watched her inhale deeply, taking in the scent of spring, and exhale. As she did so, her body relaxed. She reminded him of a wren with a broken wing he’d found as a child. His mother had told him to do away with it. Instead he had fixed a small cage for the bird and fed it some fruit. It had rewarded him with a song, its voice clear and loud for such a tiny creature. It was that hidden strength which convinced him not to give up on the bird. Yes, Eliza was his wren with a broken wing. With patience and care, she would sing again.
Chapter Eight
