Chapter 8

THOMAS COULDN'T STOP thinking about the surprising turn his meeting with Eloisa had taken. He couldn't remember the last time he had done something so scintillating and wicked. Especially not in a public place, in broad daylight and with all his clothes on.

It had not been a wise decision to toy with her, because he had been equally affected by it. The quiet little noise she had made while tasting the fruit had brought on a powerful surge of lust in him. His imagination was left free to think about her lips as she tasted each bite. That was when he had lost his restraint and kissed her. It had been a relatively chaste kiss compared to many others he had enjoyed over the years but it had stirred something inside him.

It was her reaction to it that puzzled him most. Eloisa had cultivated this image of being a proper spinster, yet her response to him was evident. She clearly hid a passionate nature behind all the logical behavior. Thomas just couldn't understand why. It was that thought that kept his mind busy until he heard the chatter of his mother and her friends in the house.

"Hello, ladies," said Thomas, entering the parlor filled with the sounds women. "I hope you don't mind a little male company today."

"Of course not. A handsome man is always welcome."

Thomas would have recognized April Caswell’s voice anywhere. One of his mother’s oldest friends, she was a soft spoken woman with a shy smile, and pockets of candy for him when he was a child. No doubt her sister May sat next to her on the sofa. They were twins, with matching brown hair and hazel eyes. Visually, the ladies were impossible to tell apart, like bookends.

Thomas reached in the direction of her voice for her hand. "Your flattery will make me blush."

He placed a kiss across the soft wrinkled hand and heard both sisters giggle like young girls.

"Shame on you for being such a flirt." Another familiar voice came from his right.

"Mrs. Wallace, I find it difficult to refrain from it in such company." He flashed a smile at Colonel Wallace’s widow, Beatrice. "A man can't change his nature, which you of all people should understand."

The colonel had died almost ten years ago, but his widow's loss still felt fresh. He had been a man always eager for battle, whether fighting foreign enemies or his own spirited wife. It had been a shock to everyone when he passed away quietly in his sleep.

"I believe there are two more ladies in the room..." He turned towards the soft scent of citrus. "I think I picked the right day to join you."

He should have been angry that Eloisa didn't tell him she would be visiting. He could guess her cousin was there as well. He would have liked to prepare for their arrival.

"We thought this was a ladies society."

He heard the sharp tone in Sarah's voice, but didn't take it to heart. "It is, but I had hoped you would make an exception. I promise not to be a bother."

"Too late for that," Sarah muttered under her breath.

He decided to ignore the comment, taking the empty seat beside his mother. "What topic were you discussing?"

"Art." His mother cheerfully interjected. "More specifically the depiction of women in most art."

"I thought the female form was the most revered in the art world."

He heard all the ladies giggle.

"Only a man would think that," commented one of the Caswell sisters. "Women are most often depicted, but not always in a flattering way. Too often they are symbols of temptation or evil."

Trying to recall the small amount of art he had learned about when he was younger, Thomas tried to find a good argument against their claim. Sadly he found he couldn't. "Maybe men paint women simply because they are prettier to look at."

"But art is supposed to mean something, not just serve as decoration."

"Lady Sarah, can't art, like women, be both?" He was amused when his remark was met with silence. "Beauty can give a woman a great deal of power."

He continued on, feeling more confident now. "Look at Cleopatra. She managed to use her beauty to weaken the enemy."

"Which was only a success because her enemies were men."

Thomas knew he shouldn't laugh, because she said it so earnestly, but he couldn't help it. "If you want me to agree that my sex is vulnerable to the allure of beauty, than I will do so easily. I only ask that you admit your sex sometimes takes advantage of it."

"Perhaps some do, but I don't."

"Then you are missing out, because surely you have the most power to wield."

"If you thought that compliment would flatter me, then you know less about women than you do about art."

This was not the way the conversation was supposed to go. Thomas used all the tricks of flirtation that he knew and they were having no effect on her. There was no way for him to know if it was because she was unique in her resistance, or if he was simply not as charming as he thought. The idea that he was the failure left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I don't think anyone has ever told me I was inexperienced when it came to women." Thomas felt his jaw tighten as he struggled to keep his voice even.

"They haven't told you, but they no doubt told each other. Women often choose to lie for the sake of a man's ego, but will divulge the truth when they are alone."

"Doesn't that make them the villains? If they want us to change they should let us know what we are doing wrong."

The response to that was the laughter of every woman in the room. His cheeks grew red at the sound.

"Darling, you must not realize how delicate men are. They couldn't handle it if women were honest with them all the time." His mother tried to breathe while still laughing. "It's our obligation to support them and guide them, but only as long as they don't know that we are doing it."

"You haven't done that with me."

Again they were laughing in unison, only it was almost uncontrollable now. Beatrice was practically rolling in her seat from the feel of the cushions. This had to be the peak of embarrassment for any man. Thomas didn't like the idea that he had been handled by his own mother. Asking for her assistance proved to be less of an advantage than he expected.

"It's a matter of trust." His mother was the only one speaking to him. "A man should be able to trust that the women in his life have his best interest in mind. If they do, then any manipulations on their part are for his own good."

The fact that the system depended on trusting a woman's motives made it difficult for him to agree with. After he lost his sight, women became less interested in seeking him out. They flocked to him when he was the unattached bachelor, but refused to seek out his company as the recovering invalid. Reclaiming that position was one of the reasons he was driven to succeed in society again.

"We were just about to leave," his mother said. "I was going to take the young ladies with us to visit Morton Hospital."

That was the place that Thomas has been forced to stay while he recovered. They specialized in teaching those who became suddenly blind or deaf. Dr. Morton was the instructor who taught Thomas how to live again. As grateful as he was to the man, he never wanted to return for a visit. He opened his mouth to decline when he heard Eloisa answer for him.

"His Grace would honor us if he joined us. I bet his story about being there is fascinating."

That was not a subtle hint to him that going would further his cause. "Of course, I would love to visit my old haunt."

There was the clatter of china and ruffling of skirts as the group of ladies stood to depart. There were too many people to fit in one carriage so the separated. Thomas ended up sitting next to Eloisa and across from her cousin, with his mother in the corner. It was tight, but not so close that he couldn't whisper to his neighbor.

"Was this part of your new plan?" he hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

"No, I'm afraid Sarah surprised me after I got home. Your mother had sent the invitation and we couldn't decline," Eloisa whispered under her breath.

Perhaps his mother had decided to take his courtship into her own hands. He was going to have to talk to her about her involvement in his romance. It was not necessary for her to be arranging meetings when he already had Eloisa to do that.

When they arrived, Thomas extended his arm in an offer to escort one of the ladies, hoping Lady Sarah might take it. After moments that stretched on until he was quite uncomfortable someone took it. The scent of oranges lingered.

"We are thrust together again." He gave her a wry smile.

"Only because my cousin took to Mrs. Wallace's side before I could." They were both speaking in tones low enough not to be heard by the others. "Next time I will be sure to be move faster."

"Is my company so terrible then?"

"No, but our pairing doesn't help our cause."

He should have been as disappointed as she was, but he wasn't. The thin shreds of his dignity felt relieved to get a small rest from the pursuit of Sarah. He was going to need to lick his wounds before battling her again.

"Must it always be business with you?" He looped her hand over his arm and felt the electric spark again. "It won't hurt our cause for you to enjoy yourself. I plan to."

He said that to calm her nerves but his own were coming to life. The combination of her warm body moving beside him and the scent of her in the air was enough to fuel his imagination. It felt like the room was getting warmer. Thomas tried to clear his mind of such thoughts as the trailed after the rest of the group.

The hospital was a large manor house on St. James that had been turned into a home for the deaf and blind. It was expensive, so only those who had a rich family could afford that kind of discreet care. Thomas recognized the place by scent and sound as soon as they entered the front hall. The memories flooded back and he broke into a sweat.

"Welcome." He heard the sound of Dr. Morton approaching. "I'm always glad to see you ladies. I see there are a few new faces and one old friend."

Dr. Morton was the son of a British ambassador and a Chinese mother. He was raised in the Far East and embraced much of that culture. The man was persistent in helping his patients, even those who didn't want his help. Thomas knew from experience how determined the good doctor could be. It felt good to be shaking his hand again after so much time.

"Would you like to guide the tour?" the doctor asked him.

"A few things might have moved, so I better let you lead," Said Thomas.

As they walked through the parlors that the patients occupied on the first floor, Thomas struggled not to let his anxiety show. Every inch of this place reminded him of the worst time in his life. Other might be proud that they survived, but he was just bitter about what it cost him. He cringed with every hand he shook and could feel disgust crawling across his skin. 

"Are you feeling well?" Eloisa asked, whispering to him while the doctor talked about one of the newest patients. "You look like you are on the verge of being sick."

"I am."

Thomas felt his stomach starting to roll. If he didn't find a private room soon he was going to toss up in front of all the ladies. Using his can to find his direction, Thomas made a hasty retreat from the room and headed towards the door that led outside the back of the house. He needed to feel the space and the fresh air to clear his mind.

"What's wrong with you?"

He should have expected Eloisa would follow him out but he hoped she would respect his privacy enough not to. She must not realize that people need to be alone. If Thomas wanted to be free of her company he was going to have to be more forthright.

"I came out here so I wouldn't have to talk about it. Now go back inside," he said, trying to sound as forceful as possible.

"You are almost green in color. Should I get the doctor?"

"I told you to just leave me alone."

"I can't hear people when they sound absurd."

"Then maybe you need to see the doctor."

He heard her giggle and felt himself smiling again. Thomas took the first big breath since he arrived.

"You really don't like this place," she said.

"No. I don't like the memories from that time in my life." Thomas admitted. "It was difficult for me to be weak and need help from others."

"You must have a different idea of weakness, because I think you must have been strong to go through something like that."

"If you saw me then you would have pitied me."

"I imagine you would pity me if you saw me now. The spinster chaperone isn't exactly something to be proud of." Eloisa tried to laugh but it sounded brittle. "At least you still have your good looks. Some of us must manage without."

Every time she said something unflattering against her own appearance, Thomas wanted to shake her. Somewhere in her past someone had convinced her she held no appeal and now she couldn't accept anything different. It amazed him how the opinions of others formed a person’s identity, both good and bad.

She didn't give any resistance when he pulled her closer, wrapping one of his arms around her waist. They were facing each other and with his other hand he brushed his fingers along her chin, tilting it up. The pulse he felt under his palm quickened when he cupped her face. A slight trembled passed through her entire body.

"How many times do you need to hear how beautiful you are before you start to believe it?" Thomas continued to hold her face steady, not letting her turn away. "Even without being able to describe the details, I know the face I'm holding is lovely."

There was a gasp as he removed his hand from her chin and began brushing his fingertips across her face. His thumb went across her eyes, which had delicately arched eyebrows. A tiny nose was perched between them. There was no reason for him to explore the shape of her lips because his memory was vividly clear about them.

"Do I feel pretty?" Her soft voice whispered.

"You feel irresistible."

Just as he was going to give in to the temptation to taste her again they were interrupted by the sound of the garden door opening. Eloisa pushed away so quickly had to use his cane to catch his balance.

"I was afraid we had lost you," his mother said, without any indication she had seen them together. "A moment longer and I would have sent a search party for you."

His mother only meant that as a joke, but Eloisa sounded guilty when she spoke. "I'm afraid I bothered him with questions about the place."

"She listened to me complain about my wounded ego. You remember how embarrassed I get when I talk about the accident." He said, addressing the direction of where his mother still stood at the door. "I'm afraid I made Miss Noble pay me compliments again. You know how my vanity can be."

His mother laughed and he could hear Eloisa let out a deep sigh. He enjoyed the time they were alone but it was better if they didn't get caught. If his mother had noticed they were missing, the other ladies, including Sarah, did too. He wouldn't want her getting the wrong idea about his intentions at this point.

"I believe the ladies are ready to leave, and we don't want to be left behind." His mother tried to be polite but he heard the reprimand in her voice. "I'm beginning to wonder if I taught you any manners growing up."

That was as close as his mother would get to chastising him but it worked. Thomas felt his cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. Even a duke could be brought to heel by his own mother.

"My apologies. It must have been my father's influence." He said. "I still need to be reminded that I'm a gentleman it seems."

"I will have to keep hoping there's a woman out there who is up to the challenge," his mother said, giving him a playful pat on the arm.

"Something we both hope for." He replied.

His mother took Eloisa with her and left Thomas to follow behind.  Thomas took a minute to gather his thoughts, which were scattered in all directions by now. He was no longer the same man he had been when he first came here, even if his appearance hadn't changed. The differences with him were now much deeper.