Page 71 of A Literary Liaison
“Miss Linde,” Wallace announced with pointed emphasis on her unmarried status, his disapproval radiating in waves. A young footman hurried forward to take her trunk, his eyes carefully averted but darting back to her face to steal glances.
Edgar found himself suddenly paralyzed. All his carefully prepared speeches evaporated like morning mist. Instead, he stepped forward and grasped her gloved hand, noting how it felt limp within his grip. Without a word, he drew her into the parlor, past the watchful eyes of the servants that came with the house.
“Do not disturb us unless summoned,” he ordered, his voice rough with emotion. Wallace’s face might have been carved from stone as he bowed and withdrew, closing the door with a quiet click that seemed to echo in the charged silence.
They stood there, barely breathing, listening to the retreating footsteps. When they faded entirely, Elisha swayed slightly, as if the strength that had carried her here was finally failing.
“Your Grace,” she whispered, her voice catching. “I… I hope I understood your message correctly. About Mr. Thornton…”
Edgar moved closer, drawn by the vulnerability in her eyes. In the warm light filtering through the curtains, he could see every detail he’d missed in the dimness of the bookshop—the shadows beneath her eyes, the slight chapping of her lower lip where she’d worried it with her teeth, the way her hands clutched her reticule like a shield.
The sight of her standing in his parlor, brave and trembling and utterly perfect, undid him completely. Slowly, he reached for the ribbon of her bonnet. The satin was warm from her skin as he untied it with fingers that weren’t quite steady. The bonnet—adorned withcheerful sunflowers that seemed to mock their forbidden situation—came away easily, revealing more of those escaped curls.
“It was most prudent of you to bring your trunk,” he said softly, placing the bonnet on a nearby table with exquisite care. What he didn’t say was how the sight of it had sent hope blazing through his chest. She hadn’t just come to hear his warning—she’d come prepared to stay.
“I was uncertain,” she admitted, her eyes darting to the closed door, “if I might be in any peril, if Mr. Thornton had sent me here for a purpose other than writing.” The words came out in a rush, as if she’d been holding them back since their meeting in the bookshop.
Edgar swallowed with effort as he fought to keep his voice steady. “I apologize for causing you alarm. I am uncertain if he meant any harm or merely sought to separate us.”
“I don’t understand.” Elisha’s voice betrayed her agitation. “Why would he when you have ignored me for these past two months?” The hurt in her voice was like a blade between his ribs.
“Perhaps he knew how strongly I felt about you and knew I would return for you.” Edgar held her gaze, willing her to see the truth in his eyes. A tree branch swayed outside, sending shadows dancing across her face.
“Return for me?” Her voice caught. “Do you truly expect me to believe you had spared any thoughts for me while gallivanting with other women?”
Edgar frowned in confusion until he recalled the articles. “Are you referring to the rag sheets claiming I was seen with various women?”
Her eyes narrowed as she stiffened. “Pray, save us both the trouble. Tell me the truth. Tell me you lost your interest when I declined further advances.” Her voice became thinner as her throat tightened. “That I only have myself to blame for believing a duke could see me as more than a passing fancy.”
Edgar froze, her accusation fueling his rage like never before. Somuch so that he could not even raise his voice.
“You hold a rather low opinion of me.” The words were soft, but she flinched as if he’d shouted. “If you believe me to be that kind of rascal, why are you here? Why did you come?”
She looked up at him then, vulnerability and hurt evident in her big bold eyes. “Because…” She buried her face in her hands as she shook her head. “Because I can’t help myself. I’m a fool… risking my life, everything I’ve worked for, just to be closer to you.”
Elisha turned her back to him then, her shoulders shaking. Edgar stared at the woman who stood in his parlor risking everything to be with him even for a moment, putting faith in him one more time that he may do right by her.
He moved closer until barely a breath separated them. “Elisha…” Her name was a prayer on his lips. “How I have missed you. I thought I would perish from needing you with every fiber of my being. I wished to converse with you, to see your smile, to stroke your hair…” His voice roughened. “Good heavens, I longed to hold you.”
Her sobs stopped and her shoulders no longer quivered. With a kerchief over her mouth, she turned toward him slightly.
“I am sorry I have led you to believe I have been absent these past two months.” The words tumbled out, raw and honest. “I have tried to steel my heart against you. To convince myself that my feelings were fleeting, that you deserved a man who lived with more conviction, who could offer for you without fear of consequences. And yet…” His voice faltered before strengthening with conviction. “And yet I find that my feelings for you have only grown stronger in our separation. They have taken root so deeply within me that I fear they have become a part of my being.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks, but her eyes shone with joy as she gazed up at him. The sight undid him completely.
“I have been a prisoner of longing these past weeks. Every moment away from you has been an exquisite agony. You may believe Ihave been absent, but I was there, across from theMetropolitanbuilding. Most nights, I watched the attic window darken and wished you sweet dreams.”
He cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away her tears.
“I thought, in my folly, that by distancing myself from you, I could protect you from heartache. But in doing so, I realize I have only succeeded in bringing pain to us both.”
She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed. When they opened again, they held such joy his breath caught. “And I thought…” her voice quavered, “I thought you didn’t give me another thought… because I refused your bed…”
Unable to bear her pain for another moment, Edgar pulled her into his arms. She came willingly, her tears soaking his coat as he held her close. Each sob tore at his heart, revealing the depth of her hidden anguish. He pressed his lips to her hair, murmuring soft words of comfort and love.
As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms while the afternoon light painted them in gold, the world beyond his parlor ceased to exist. They were no longer duke and commoner, no longer bound by Society’s rigid rules. They were simply Edgar and Elisha, two hearts finally finding their way home.
And in that moment, Edgar knew with bone-deep certainty that he would move heaven and earth to keep her safe and to make her his in every way that mattered. Society’s censure, his family’s expectations, even his own fears—none of it could compare to the precious weight of her trust in his arms.
