Page 15 of Love Abandoned

Chapter Seven

You are my true and honorable wife,

As dear to me as are the ruddy drops

That visit my sad heart.

—Shakespeare,Julius Caesar

Elizabeth was keenlyaware of Richard’s thigh pressed along hers. He was preoccupied with His Grace and, doubtless, was oblivious to the fact he was creating such a stir within her. Being held in his arms at the Argyll Rooms, his hands touching her legs as he rolled down her stockings, and now this intimacy were too much after such disinterested distance. She burned at the memory of the pleasure his touch could bring. She shook her head as though she could dislodge the images. Her imagination was far too wanton and inappropriate for the setting.

She turned to her left. “Mr. Haydon, I have heard much praise regarding your talent. I do hope to see your work someday.”

“Thank you, Lady Thornwood. It would be my great pleasure to share some pieces with you. If you’d like, we could arrange a showing while you are in London.”

“That would be lovely,” she said, distracted by his shiny pate glowing under the chandelier.

He must be younger than Richard, yet this poor man’s hair receded, whereas Richard’s was gloriously thick. She loved to run her fingers through it and pull his head down for scorching kisses. Richard was an outstanding kisser. Not that she had any to compare them too, but none could possibly be any more enjoyable. How had she wandered back down the same dissolute path?

She cleared her throat. “Are you working on anything currently?”

She tried to focus as he described his vision for his next painting—Christ, crowds, Jerusalem—but she could not bring her rampant imaginings under control. “I look forward to seeing it,” she said when it was clear he was done elaborating.

He looked at her quizzically. “Yes, well as I say, I am ruminating at this point. When I will put brush to canvas, I don’t know. I will wait for my muse.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth responded, grateful servants had arrived with another course and she could turn her attention to her food. Where were her manners? She prided herself on her etiquette, but it had been sorely lacking in her conversation with Mr. Haydon. She picked at her glazed carrots and strove to do better.

“May I?” Richard dutifully held the porcelain platter toward her.

“Yes, please.”

He speared a fillet onto her plate, set the dish down, and grabbed a matching sauce boat before pouring a puddle of white sauce on the fish. She followed his glance around the room, knowing he was ensuring all the women had been served, before he served himself a much more generous helping. Richard had always had a healthy appetite.

He waited for her to begin before lifting his own fork. The routine was so familiar and so foreign of late, her heart ached a little. But she would not allow herself more than a melancholy moment, not when Richard was so close and so relaxed. She cut a piece of fish and enjoyed its rich flavor as she surveyed the room.

Catherine had eschewed head-of-table protocol. She’d placed herself and Lord Walford, as well as all their guests, to either side of the table, leaving the ends vacant. When watching her and Nicholas together, Elizabeth had no difficulty discerning why Catherine chose to put husbands and wives beside one another. Catherine didn’t want to be apart from her own husband for a moment. And no wonder. He’d been gone for four years, and they had overcome such a difficult beginning to their marriage.

Across the table, Sophia was engaging the Duke of Salinger’s attention. A side glance told her Sophia had also managed to engage Mr. Haydon’s. Stunning in her signature scarlet, Sophia wore her neckline daringly low, and Elizabeth suspected that was what was captivating Mr. Haydon as much as Sophia’s beauty. She felt sympathy for the companion to his left, whose name she’d forgotten but who must feel neglected. Or relieved. One never knew when strangers were put together.

Lord Bentley, too, could not seem to keep his eyes from Sophia, even with his dinner companion yelling in his ear. Catherine’s aunt loudly prattled on about the food, not seeming to notice that Lord Bentley was distracted and spared her no glance. Elizabeth returned her attention to Catherine. Hanging on her husband’s every word, she positively glowed—in an entirely different way than Mr. Haydon’s head. Elizabeth lowered her gaze so no one would see the smirk that threatened at the comparison of the two.

“Do you wish to share what has brought on that mischievous smile?” Richard asked quietly.

“I but amuse myself with my own thoughts,” she said, turning to Richard and, with some difficulty, swallowing the last piece of fish. His hazel eyes were flecked with gold in the light, and a smile teased the corner of his mouth.

“A penny for them? I’ll pay a full shilling if you also bring back that smile.”

She hadn’t realized she’d dropped her smile. “I may save sharing my thoughts for the carriage, my lord.” She couldn’t possibly tell him what she’d been thinking with everyone about. Someone might overhear.

“Fair enough,” he said, turning, as he must, to Mrs. Randall on his other side.

Elizabeth had never more regretted the formalities of a dinner party. When had she last seen him so relaxed in her company? She sighed and turned her attention back to Mr. Haydon, judiciously avoiding gazing at his forehead as he droned on.

*

Richard had noidea why he was so at ease with Elizabeth this evening. Maybe it was because he now had a way to keep himself busy? In fact, two methods of distraction. First, this business with intelligence gathering. Second, Mr. Randall was looking to increase his shipping business and was seeking partnership. Randall was also amenable to purchasing ships from Walford should Richard be inclined to invest. A beneficial deal all around.

“My turn,” someone squawked, and all heads swiveled to the far end of the table. Richard leaned in to see past Elizabeth in time to witness Catherine’s aunt swat Bentley’s shoulder. “I’ll have your attention, young sir!”

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