Page 30 of A Wicked Earl's Widow
An hour went by, the trio lying on their back, quoting favorite lines of poetry, naming shapes from the clouds above. The day was perfect, the sky a brilliant cornflower blue, and she had a taste of what it felt like to be carefree. This is what she wanted for Althea. Eliza turned her head, studying the handsome profile next to her. That he was attached to her daughter, she was certain. That he was attracted to her, she had no doubt. But did he hold any stronger feelings? Did she?
Yes. She loved him. After sorting through her feelings, she realized he evoked a much stronger passion, a deeper need than with Carson. There had been so much gratitude in that bond. He’d treated her like a human being instead of property to be traded, sold, or used at will. She’d been thankful, but had grown emotionally since that time.
With Nathaniel, a hunger drove her to be near him, to close her eyes at the sound of his voice. Let his presence wash over her, stir her pulse, make her throb in those intimate places. Never seeing him again would burn a hole in her soul. And yet she must go. He was the type of man that once committed, his love professed, would never go back on his word. Eventually, he would recognize her for what she was. The pain of seeing regret in his eyes would keep her strong. They would leave as soon as she had word from Scotland.
“I’ll pack up and send the groom on with the basket.” Hannah rose and smoothed out her dress. “After I soak my feet in the river.”
Eliza watched as Hannah removed her boots, picked up her skirts, and waded to the edge of the river. Far off to the west, dark clouds gathered, promising rain to come.
A scream startled her. Just off the shore, Hannah wobbled on the edge of a rock, lost her balance and fell. Nate jumped up, running for the river bank. His sister slapped at the water, swimming the short distance to the rock. A giggle rose above the splashing as she gripped at the stone and pulled herself back into the shallower water, collapsing on her bum. Nate reached her, held out a hand, and pulled up his dripping wet sister.
“I think I’ll return earlier than planned.” She picked up the hem of her dress, scrunched it up then wrung it out. A puddle formed beneath her, surrounding her stocking feet.
“Yes, we’ll help gather everything and head back. You must get out of those clothes. Thank goodness it’s a warm day.” Eliza knew if a wind picked up, Hannah could still catch a chill.
“Oh no, stay. Why should all three of us sacrifice rest of the afternoon because of my clumsiness?”
“I can’t… We can’t—”
“Of course you can. My brother may be a flirt but he would never take advantage. And no one will be the wiser if you spend an hour without a chaperone.” She grinned. “It’s not like you’re a young naïve miss in her first season. Gracious, you’re a widow!”
“We wanted to show you the tree with the gruesome face in the trunk. It’s so clear, as a child Hannah thought it could talk.” Nate laughed. “She was furious when she found Maxwell hiding behind the tree.”
“Oh yes, Eliza. You must see it. The face is like something from Merlin’s tale.” She laced up her boots. “It will take an hour or less. You’ll be right behind me.”
She agreed against her better judgment. As the pair rode away, Nate whispered in her ear, “Now I shall ravish the fair maiden!” He reached for her, giving her plenty of time to dash away. With a giggle, she escaped his arms and ran for the horses.
They retrieved their mounts and rode into the woods for a quarter of an hour. They stopped in front of an ancient oak, its twisted bark forming a misshapen face, complete with swirling eyes and a gaping hole for a mouth. A child could easily be convinced it was a magical tree.
“I see how Hannah was duped. This could be an illustration fromGrimm’s Fairy Tales.” She moved the mare closer, bending down to rub her hand along the tree trunk. “We must bring Althea to see it.”
A clap of thunder spooked Eliza’s mare. She pulled back on the rains and murmured soothing words as she stroked its tense neck. The air was heavy with the threat of rain.
“Those clouds were moving faster than I thought,” said Nathaniel. “Ready for a gallop?”
She nodded and they made their way back to the meadow. Just as they left the shelter of the woods, lightning ripped the sky and fat drops of rain began to fall.
“If it were only rain, I’d still say gallop back, but I hate to risk your safety in a storm.” He pointed back at the woods. “We’ll take shelter in the woodcutter’s shed.”
They moved as quickly as they could. Wind whipped leaves from the trees and sent the smaller wildlife scurrying for cover. The canopy of green provided some relief from the downpour but Eliza was still grateful to see the small cabin. Nate helped her from her horse, opened the door for her, then took the horses around back and tied them in a lean-to.
The cottage was one room, simply furnished, and dry. There was a small wooden table with two chairs, an oil lamp, a bed…Pish and perdition!She blushed at the sight of the small four-poster bed. The hearth was cold and dark with a stack of wood neatly piled next to it. A rocking chair faced the fireplace, and a thick fur rug lay in front of it. A small nightstand stood next to the bed with several books and a candle.
The door opened and Nate walked in, brushing the rain from his riding jacket. He peeled it off and placed on the back of one of the chairs. “I’ll start a fire for us. Between the rain and the wind, I’m chilled. How are you?”
She nodded. “Cold and wet. This is a much better option than trying to beat the storm. There’s a fine book selection Grace stocked the place.” She fingered the leather-bound books of Blake, Cowper, and Tennyson. But it was Pride and Prejudice that she picked up and opened. Grace had sent her this book, the last one she’d read before leaving home and becoming a bride. Such romantic nonsense had filled her head.
“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever.” Nate said from behind her, his breath warm against her neck.
Eliza shivered from the nearness.
“Are you cold? The fire should heat this small room up quickly enough.” He sat on the bed and took her hands, pulling her between his legs. He searched her face, a question in those beautiful eyes that had nothing to do with the temperature.
“You unnerve me at times,” she replied honestly. “Yet I’m drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Trite, I know, but appropriate.”
“That implies I could cause you harm.” His jaw ticked, his grip tightening on her fingers. “I would never hurt you.”
Her throat swelled. “No, but leaving this place will hurt though I must go.”
