THE NEXT MORNING DAWNED RAINY AND COLD and brought dispatches from one of Henry’s estates demanding his attention. The outing to Covent Garden was postponed to a more hospitable day, and Henry departed to attend to business with his solicitor.
Eliza, left to her own devices, elected to spend the day in the library, where a fire made the room cozy, and the light by the back windows was good for reading.
Henry found her there sometime after lunch, when he came into the library to deal with the rest of the mail on his desk. He only noticed her once he was seated behind it. She had made herself comfortable in the enormous wing-back chair facing the rear window, with her legs tucked up under her and the skirts of her blue-and-white striped dress tucked around her feet. In fact, someone standing in the middle of the room would have no clue there was another person present, except for the slippers she had kicked off and left under the chair.
She was the picture of contented comfort, with a soft white knitted shawl draped around her shoulders and her elbow propped on the armrest so her hand could cradle the side of her head. Her dress had a square-cut neckline and three-quarter-length sleeves. The bodice was form-fitting to the waist and then opened into a full skirt, which allowed for her legs to cross beneath. It wasn’t a terribly fashionable gown, but she loved the penny-sized silver buttons down the front and approved of the vertical stripes that made her look taller.
Eliza lifted her nose out of her book and smiled at Henry. “Good afternoon, Sir Henry. Did you get all your work done?”
Henry grimaced at the stack of letters before him. “Not quite, but the rain has stopped, so once I have dealt with what is in front of me, perhaps you would like to go for a turn about the square?”
Eliza’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Oh, don’t worry yourself on my account, I’m in excellent company.” She held up her book so he could read the title.
His eyes sparkled when they returned to hers. “Tom Jones. Indeed I am surprised you tore yourself away long enough to acknowledge my presence.”
Eliza smiled wickedly, in total contrast with the blush staining her cheeks. “He is just about to climb into some lady’s boudoir. So, no rush!”
“I’m not sure I should allow you to pollute your mind with all that debauchery,” he commented, only half in jest, but she had already turned her attention back to the book.
“It’s very educational,” Eliza quipped.
With an appreciative laugh, Henry left her to her book and turned his attention back to his correspondence. The companionable silence descending over the library was new to him, but so very, very welcome.
AN HOUR LATER HENRY HAD worked himself down to the last of his letters and was looking forward to teasing Eliza about her risqué reading material, when he became aware of a commotion in the front hall.
A shrill female voice demanded to be taken to Sir Henry. In fact, the lady refused to take no for an answer, and the staccato of her heels accompanied her demands as she opened doors to look for him.
Henry, in the meantime, had matched the voice to his not-yet-officially dismissed mistress, Millie, and rose to take care of the situation when his eyes fell on Eliza. All color had drained from her face, and she was looking around in a panic trying to find a safe place to hide. Henry held her gaze for a moment. “What is it?”
Eliza motioned wildly to the door. “Sounds like Horace’s missus. They found me.”
Henry moved to her side and grabbed both her hands to calm her. “No, I know who it is. Calm yourself, I’ll go and take care of it.”
Eliza was not convinced. “Who is it then? I don’t want you to get hurt on my account.”
Henry couldn’t help a wry chuckle. “Don’t worry, I won’t. Her name is Millie and she is the reigning queen of Drury Lane.” He smiled apologetically. “She may also still consider herself my mistress.”
Eliza’s eyes went wide, her lips forming a perfect O, but the tension went out of her body. She sank back down into the wing-back chair and refolded her legs beneath herself before cocking her head up at him. “In that case, you better go talk to her before William has an apoplexy.”
Her cheeks dimpling, Eliza used a silk ribbon to hold her place in Mr. Fielding’s lusty tale, in expectation of a scene at least as entertaining as Tom’s antics.
BEFORE LONG, THE DOOR SWUNG open, and a determined Millie made her entrance. Her sky-blue eyes swept the library with the efficiency of a Bow Street detective, despite her obvious fury at being treated as less than a lady by the indignant doorman who followed on her heels.
“You can’t just barge in there!” wailed William from the hall.
“Oh, go f … ”
The vulgar expletive died on Millie’s lips as she realized she had found her quarry. She proceeded to demonstrate why she was considered one of the more talented actresses of her generation.
Millie immediately checked her temper, infused her face with a slow smile to indicate her pleasure at seeing Henry, and slowed her walk to a seductive swing of the hips. By the time she spoke again, her voice had lost its shrill tone and hard East End edge. Now it rippled like velvet.
“Henry, my dearest, sweet, sweet man, have you been working all this time? Is that why I haven’t seen you, my love? The last time you came to me, you told me you had to go to one of your estates to work, and now I find you still working.” She shook her head sadly, which made her blond corkscrew curls dance most enticingly around her neck and over the top of her pushed-up bosom. “I’m so glad I came. You need a break and I know just how to relax you.” She purred and smiled invitingly, her eyes widening with the promise of passion.
Henry could still see Eliza out of the corner of his eyes and shot her a quelling look as she clamped both hands over her mouth to contain her mirth. She couldn’t see the woman, but the change in her voice, what she said and how she said it, had Eliza in stitches. Henry, too, couldn’t quite hide his amusement as he moved past Eliza and into the room to greet his neglected mistress.
Millie, meanwhile, leaned slightly forward to display the luminous expanse of her pale bosom in the most outrageously low-cut red satin dress he had ever seen anybody wear in broad daylight. She was clearly on a mission, and it behooved him to find out what it might be.
“Millie, my darling, you look simply ravishing. Did I buy you that dress? I must say it was worth every penny.”
She followed the ample curves of her body with both her hands and replied, “Oh no, my love, that was Fairly.” And shrugging somewhat apologetically, she added, “You haven’t been around, and I didn’t have a stitch to wear.”
The sting of the revelation was considerably dulled by the fact that it had been his idea to hand her off to Robert. But Henry was aware of a suppressed giggle from behind the wing-back chair, so he moved past Millie to the wine decanter by the front fireplace, to make her turn back into the room. Satisfied Millie now had her back to Eliza in the wing-back chair, he filled two glasses with claret and handed one to Millie.
It may have been his idea to tell Robert to make a play for her, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make her sweat a little for her faithlessness. “So, Fairly, hm? Where is the strapping young viscount now?”
Millie, encouraged by his apparent need for alcohol, fluttered her eyelashes with what she liked to think of as charming innocence and walked her fingers up his chest while she took a sip of wine.
Eliza, her hilarity having given way to curiosity, risked a peek around the side of her chair. All comparisons to Tom Jones forgotten, it was suddenly imperative to know what kind of woman held Henry’s interest.
Millie set her glass on a side table and presented her claret-stained lips to Henry. When he showed no signs of taking the bait, she slowly licked the claret off her lips and pouted. “Out of town.”
Henry nodded and granted her a sympathetic pat on the rump. “Ah, you find yourself at loose ends, my dear? Surely it isn’t another wardrobe you need, so what brings you here?”
Millie gave him a little smile as if to say, I know I’m naughty, but I also know you will forgive me because I’m adorable and you want me. All the while her hips brushed against his groin in a slow circular motion that made him hiss in a breath between his teeth. When she was certain of his favorable reaction, she let her hands trail down his chest and around his waist, down to his buttocks, and pulled herself closer into his erection. “Why, Henry, I am making sure you are not working too hard, of course.”
She let her hands slide to the front of his breeches, where she caressed him and opened the first button. “Why don’t you sit down and let me take care of you … and then you can take me shopping. I found the most delicious little hat to go with this dress.”
Henry caught her hands before she could open another button and thanked the heavens she had finally come to the point. His body urged him to take Millie upstairs and make her work for that hat, but he was keenly aware of Eliza in the wing-back chair, and that it wasn’t Millie he wanted. “Much as I appreciate your talents, I don’t think we should go behind the viscount’s back. He is a friend, you know. Now he has taken my place, he might as well keep it, don’t you think?”
Millie’s eyes came up slowly to meet his, and comprehension dawned in them. She had overplayed her hand and this was to be goodbye. Her hands went to her hips in a decidedly unladylike stance and she narrowed her eyes at him. “You dirty, loathsome….”
His raised hand stayed her. “Now, now, Millie, no need to get into a temper. I tell you what, why don’t you go shopping for that hat and have them send me the bill. Call it a parting gift.”
At that, the smile returned, but she was still pouting. “What will I do till Fairly gets back?”
Grinning at her antics, Henry retrieved a fifty-pound bill from his box on the desk. But when he looked over to the wing chair, Eliza was glaring at him. She had obviously seen and not just heard some of what had passed between Millie and him, and did not approve. He tried to reassure her by holding her gaze and giving his head a tiny shake, hoping Eliza would understand he was just trying to part amicably with the lady, that he didn’t want Millie. He wanted her.
Henry folded the banknote as he walked back to Millie and tucked it into her bodice. “I’m sure you will think of something.” Then he turned her around and marched her toward the door.
She sighed heavily and sent him a dramatic glance over her shoulder. “Goodbye, Henry. It was fun while it lasted.”
Smiling, he winked at her. “It certainly was. Goodbye, Millie. William will show you out.”
Holding her head high, Millie made her exit in style, while William sprinted ahead to open the front door for her.
Eliza let out a relieved breath and chuckled. “So much for the tart.”
HENRY CLOSED THE DOOR AND stood there for a moment trying to call his aroused body to order, but Eliza stirred in her chair, and her presence drew him like a lodestone.
Moving closer, he leaned over the back of her chair in an attempt to spare her the sight of his erection. Eliza glanced up at him and raised an eyebrow. The thought she’d been jealous of Millie made him happier than he cared to admit, but he also felt the need to explain.
“Try not to judge me too harshly. The woman is skilled, and I’m only human.”
Eliza’s face was tilted up to him; her eyes mocking him gently. “Oh, you poor, dear, sweet man,” she said, imitating Millie’s purr, “is that why you are hiding behind the chair? Did she put a bulge in your pants?”
Henry let his hand drop over the back of the chair to tease one of her curls, and was just about to ask if she knew what to do with a bulge in a man’s breeches when she added, “At least you’re not chasing me around the room trying to rub it against me.”
There was a bitter note in her voice, and the comment was such a stunning mix of crude awareness and innocence that Henry felt ashamed of his urges. “We’re not all like that. It can be beautiful, you know, what lies between a man and a woman.”
They had both sobered, aware something had just changed. She met his eyes and nodded despite the blush staining her neck and face. Her eyes held a question, and she looked so beautiful with her face tilted toward him and the gentle curve of her breasts beyond, he couldn’t help himself. He traced the curve of her neck with the curl he still held between his fingers.
When the pad of his index finger started to follow the same path, he felt her shiver, but she held his gaze. He let his finger follow her collarbone to the square-cut décolletage of her blue-and-cream striped dress and, from there, dip to the soft swell of her breast.
His eyes were dark and smoldering now, and Eliza realized he had sent Millie away because of her. She wanted to believe him, part of her even wanted him to show her. But all she had ever done was run from the unwanted attention of the men around her. Even as her breath hitched in her throat at the touch of his finger, she lost her nerve and lowered her gaze.
Henry silently cursed himself for frightening her. He could readily imagine what kind of men she would have had to fend off at the inn. The crude jokes, the lewd comments, the rough, dirty hands grabbing at her. It was enough to make him ill.
He lifted his hand away from her, flashed her a rueful grin, and attempted to make light of it. “Easy, sweetheart! No need to worry, I’ll be civilized again soon enough.”
He waited till she met his eyes, and smiled his apology. “I’ll see you at dinner.” Then he headed out of the room.
ELIZA SAT THERE FOR A while, watching the bare branches of the elm tree outside the library window sway in the breeze, and tried to make sense of what had just almost happened.
Henry rarely dined at home, preferring his club and the company of his friends. She wondered whether he would come to her room and eat with her there, or if she was meant to meet him in the dining room.
And after their almost kiss, did he mean to take things further?
What would he do if she said no? His caress had been soft and gentle, but she knew how fast a man’s hand could turn into a fist. Would he hurt her too if he didn’t get what he wanted?
He had saved her, housed her, clothed her, fed her, entertained her, and, more recently, confided in her and flirted with her. Did he expect her to give him her body in exchange for these kindnesses? It was a reasonable assumption and one she understood. That was how the men she had known so far would see the situation. And human nature remained the same whether you were born in a Mayfair mansion or a cramped roadside inn.
Did he know she had wanted him to kiss her, and now thought her a wanton, no better than Wendy the barmaid who brought in customers because she lifted her skirts for a shilling?
The old panic she had lived with at the inn seized her and she rose, resettling her arm in the sling. She paced the length of the library twice before she could calm herself enough to think rationally. Not every man was crude and brutal; her father had been proof of that. She had just been keeping the wrong company.
Eliza knew Henry to be kind and considerate, so she saw no reason to be afraid of him. But was he waiting for her to come to him, or did he really not expect anything from her like Mrs. Tibbit insisted? She had told Eliza he never dallied with anybody living under his roof.
But she didn’t really live under his roof. She didn’t work for him and therefore didn’t depend on him for her livelihood. He had picked her up off the side of the road, where she would have died had he not intervened. She was staying in his house temporarily, and no matter what he or Mrs. Tibbit said, or how much he treated her as a friend, there was no way around the fact that she owed him.
Then there was the small matter of him being the most handsome, most intelligent, most amusing, and cleanest man she had ever met. She thoroughly enjoyed spending time with him. She wanted to know the things he had to teach her, and she suspected being kissed and touched by him would be exciting, pleasurable even, rather than repulsive.
She merely didn’t like the idea he might expect it of her.
Her ruminations were cut short by Mrs. Tibbit, who came to tell her Sir Henry had indeed ordered dinner at home and had extended an invitation to her to join him. In the meantime, he had taken off for a ride in the park, and Eliza joined Mrs. Tibbit in her parlor for a sewing lesson.
Eliza was grateful for the activity and the chance to think of a future she could build without the undue influence of men.
THE FIRST THING HENRY DID when Eliza came downstairs for dinner was to apologize to her.
He met her at the bottom of the stairs, waited until she stood right in front of him, and took both her hands in his. “Eliza, I am so sorry I took liberties with you in the library earlier. Please forgive my behavior.”
Taken aback, she nodded her acceptance. Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, she felt ashamed she had thought Henry capable of being as base and coarse as the men she had known so far. Pushing aside the painful feelings the earlier incident had dredged up from her past, she decided to make light of the situation.
The dimple in her cheek appeared and, letting a trace of the inn color her voice, she observed, “That Millie did have you riled up good and proper.”
Henry’s self-effacing chuckle ended in a shake of his head. “Yes, she did. But if I didn’t find you attractive, what happened between you and me wouldn’t have happened.” He smiled another apology, but remained serious. “Eliza, you are a guest in my house and you have a right to feel safe here. I like spending time with you, and I want you to feel comfortable in my company, so I promise I will never take advantage of you. And,” he said with a crooked smile, “I will do my best to keep my hands to myself.”
Eliza, her eyes lowered, blushed a lovely shade of crimson at his rather forward declarations. Then she blushed even deeper as she found herself oddly disappointed he would never again touch her ever so softly as he had done in the library.
She managed a steady enough, “Thank you,” and finally looked up at him and smiled.
Satisfied they had cleared up any misunderstanding between them, Henry took her arm and led her to dinner.