Chapter 7

For a split second, Tuck thought it might be true.

For a solitary moment, he believed he was marrying Eloise, that the heavy weight of betrayal he’d been carrying around for weeks now was unwarranted, and he was free to love the woman he loved.

Loved?

He glanced swiftly at Eloise to find her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide as she stared at her grandmother. Did he love her? It was too soon, wasn’t it? He’d only just met her. How could something as weighty and important as love grow in such a small time?

It was at that horrible moment he recalled Liam’s words from earlier that day, about Tuck embarking on his expedition alone. As he studied Eloise, he couldn’t help but wonder.

Was she capable of being his partner in such extreme circumstances?

It was ludicrous, of course. He had meant it when he’d told Liam she was a lady, and ladies did not embark on expeditions. But what if?

He was rattled from his thoughts when Eloise spoke sternly. “Grandmother. You know perfectly well I have not accepted anyone’s proposal. Most certainly not Mr. Ryan’s.”

She needn’t be quite that stern about it, need she?

“Mr. Ryan is the cousin of the Duke of Ardley and dear friend of our family. You know as much.”

Dear friend? God, he was a friend now? This afternoon could not get much worse.

But it did. Of course, it did. Grandmother Bitsy looked at him when she said, “I didn’t say anything about a proposal, dearie. I said you were going to marry this gentleman.” Here she pointed directly at Tuck. “What does a proposal have to do with that?”

Eloise blinked, but Renshaw chuckled softly, the movement upsetting the hat he had cradled on his lap.

“Oh Bitty, you do know how to put a point on things.” Renshaw looked up, his eyes squinting rather a lot for the amount of sun they were in. “So you’re the chap my Bitty has been talking about. I hear you’re a man of science.”

Tuck glanced at Eloise, but she was still shooting daggers at her grandmother with her eyes. He looked back at Renshaw, not quite believing it could be this simple. He’d spent the last few weeks climbing every obstacle he encountered when it came to speaking to potential benefactors, and he was fairly certain he had nearly reached pariah status amongst the ton. Renshaw’s overture seemed almost like a trap for how easily it came.

“Yes,” he started hesitantly. “My field of study is the aurora borealis. The northern lights. I wish to discover the effect of solar storms on our modern-day communication systems.”

Renshaw’s eyes squinted even more as he smiled. “Is that so? Tell me, young man. Do you plan to travel in your research?”

This was most definitely a trap, but Eloise had begun to whisper argue with her grandmother, so he couldn’t look to her for help.

“I do, in fact,” he went on. “I’m currently seeking to launch an expedition to Spitsbergen. It’s an ideal location for studying the aurora.”

Renshaw tapped his hat against his thighs. “I’ll say. What a splendid notion.” He held up a hand, pointing one finger into the air. “Do you know I used to travel a great deal? There’s nothing like it. Setting off to unknown places.” The man’s exuberance in speaking gave him the slightest speech impediment. Almost as though he were so eager to get the words out that they became jammed against his front teeth. “Do you know what my favorite journey was?”

Something inside of Tuck began to rise on a bubble of hope. Although Grimsby had indicated Renshaw had no funds and likely couldn’t support a research expedition, Tuck might find in the older gentleman an ally, one who thrived on discovery and exploration.

“What was it?” Tuck asked, urging the man on.

Renshaw snapped his fingers in the air. “Cornwall,” he said triumphantly, and the bubble of hope inside of Tuck popped. “There’s nothing more beautiful than the Cornwall coast.” But then Renshaw’s expression began to fade, and his hand sank back to his lap. “Although I don’t travel so much anymore. Not since I lost my Carolina.”

Tuck took a seat on the bench next to Renshaw, so the man wasn’t forced to keep looking up at him. “Was that your wife?” Tuck asked now, concern pooling.

Renshaw’s forlorn expression cracked a little. “Oh yes, she was. My beautiful Carolina. She always traveled with me. The best travel companion a man could ask for.” He slapped his thigh with his hat once more. “Tell me, young man. Do you have a companion to go with you on this journey you have planned?” He nodded in Eloise’s direction, and Tuck saw she had bent over and was whispering in her grandmother’s ear. He caught the words polite and company and tried not to smile. “I understand Lady Eloise is quite a formidable lady. Perhaps she would make a good partner.”

Why was everyone going on about Lady Eloise and expeditions?

Tuck laughed to ease the tension he was beginning to feel in his shoulders. “Lady Eloise is courting my cousin, the Duke of Ardley. I’m afraid there’s been some kind of misunderstanding in regard to our relationship.”

“She’s attached to the Duke of Ardley?” Renshaw asked. “Then why is she here with you?”

Nothing had struck Tuck more than that simple question. He swallowed. “Lady Eloise is doing me a kindness in aiding me with introductions. I’m new to all of this, you see. I’m a professor in Oxford, so I don’t often have a chance to frequent London society.”

Renshaw’s face opened. “Ah, that I can understand only too well. My Carolina was much the same. Always helping where she was able. I can see similar traits in young Lady Eloise. Is there a particular introduction you’re interested in, young man?” He screwed up his mouth to one side and leaned closer conspiratorially. “I’ve been in this world long enough to know that one’s connections can mean everything. So tell me, who is it you wish to meet?”

Tuck couldn’t stop a smile at the older man’s good nature. “I’m afraid it’s the worst kind. The ones with money to spare.”

Renshaw straightened with a hearty laugh. “Oh, my young man, you are right. Those are the worst kind. And what is the intended use for this money?”

Tuck looked down at his feet, the familiar feeling of unease creeping over him as he talked about his work in relation to needing money. “I need funding for the expedition I plan to launch in the fall.”

“Ah, I see. To study the aurora as you mentioned.” Renshaw leaned back, his hat tapping a staccato against his thigh. “I’ll say, who have you approached already?” The earl’s gaze traveled around the cluster of guests in front of them. “I should think Stockwell is a good prospect. Made heaps of money last year in iron.” He tilted his head toward Tuck and dropped his voice. “Better get on it soon though. His wife has a wee problem with baubles. She’ll spend through Stockwell’s earnings before the end of the season. Mark my words.” He straightened again. “There’s Hanratty and Beauclair, of course. Those are the usual suspects. I would stay away from Burdette though.”

“Is the man unscrupulous?” Tuck inquired.

“No,” Renshaw said pleasantly. “He just has a predilection for a pipe tobacco that smells far too much like rotten onions. It’s exceedingly uncomfortable to be around the man.”

Tuck smiled now and eased back on the bench. Grimsby was right in suggesting he speak to Renshaw. The man was proving to be a delight, and Tuck could already feel his confidence growing.

“I think I should like to know more about you, my lord. If you don’t mind.”

Renshaw started at this, straightening so quickly his hat nearly fell off his lap. “Me?” he asked, the incredulity clear in his voice. “Everyone knows I’m not more than an old totter. What can you gain from spending time with me? I’ve nothing to offer.”

“Come now,” Tuck said. “You mustn’t say such things. I’ve enjoyed the last few minutes with you more than I have the entire time I’ve been in London. That’s not nothing.”

Renshaw’s smile deepened. “You’re a bright young man. I could tell that straightaway. Lady Eloise would be so lucky to have you for a husband.”

Tuck felt the razor blade of guilt slash at him, but he was saved from speaking when Liam himself arrived. Tuck got to his feet as his cousin approached.

“Renshaw!” Liam called from several steps away. “It’s been too long.” He shook the earl’s hand heartily. “I see you’ve met my cousin here.”

“We’ve been having a wonderful chat, Ardley. It’s a shame you haven’t invited your cousin to London sooner.” Renshaw placed the hat on top of his head and stood. “Mr. Ryan, I hope you meant what you said just now. Call on me anytime. Bitty knows the address.”

With that the earl ambled away, greeting people as he went with a nod and a kind word. Tuck watched him go.

“The Earl of Renshaw?” Liam said softly beside him. “The man is an old totter.”

“I think I rather like old totters.”

Liam eyed him. “You’re very strange sometimes.”

Tuck frowned. “You’ve mentioned that before. What do you want?”

Liam pressed a hand innocently to his chest. “Why would you think I’m in need of something from you?”

“You have that earnest look in your eye.”

Liam dropped his hand. “I don’t care for how observant you are.”

Tuck didn’t say anything. He merely glared at his cousin.

Liam’s gaze shifted ever so slightly to where Eloise had taken the seat Renshaw had vacated and was working to straighten her grandmother’s shawl, which seemed to have become entangled in the yew hedge behind her. “I need you to escort Lady Eloise for me.”

“No.” The single word shot from Tuck’s lips so quickly he wasn’t sure who was more surprised.

Liam veered back ever so slightly and cast a quick glance over his shoulder. “I promised old Hollinrake I would take his daughter for a turn about the garden to show her off. He’s trying to find her a match this season, and you know how disadvantaged she is. Having her be seen with me will do the girl wonders.”

Tuck knew what Liam wasn’t saying. Even though he’d been in London only a few weeks, Tuck had met Hollinrake’s daughter. She was a wallflower to put it politely and rather unfortunate of face to put it not so politely. Being seen with Liam really would be a boon for her.

“What has that got to do with Lady Eloise?” He kept his tone low even though Eloise was preoccupied and several feet away from them.

“I don’t wish to waste the entire afternoon. I need a wife this season, and I can’t possibly choose one if I don’t talk to the lady I’m supposed to be courting.” He gestured with his head toward the garden beyond. “Take her for a turn about the rose beds, and I’ll meet you by the fountain at the back of the gardens. You’ll take the Hollinrake girl back to her father, and I’ll get a chance to speak to Lady Eloise.”

Tuck cared for this idea not at all, but his cousin was making a kind gesture for a rather unfortunate girl. “Fine. But this is the last time I help you with Lady Eloise. You know perfectly well what a fine wife she’d make.” He didn’t realize that was what he meant to say, and Liam’s expression mirrored the shock Tuck felt.

“I see. If she’s so lovely, why don’t you marry her?”

Tuck didn’t answer. He waved Liam off and stepped over to Eloise. “Lady Eloise?” He interrupted what sounded like an argument about the merits of pantaloons. “I was wondering if you’d enjoy a turn about the gardens.” Her eyes narrowed in question. “My cousin suggested you might like to take in the rose beds.”

Her eyes widened at the mention of Liam, and she patted her grandmother’s arm. “Grandmother, will you be all right if I go with Mr. Ryan?”

Grandmother Bitsy’s attention was already elsewhere though, and her reply was little more than a murmur of parting.

Eloise stood and took his arm. He led her in the direction of the rose garden.

“Liam would like to meet us at the fountain at the rear of the garden. He wishes to speak with you.”

“And did you remember to speak well of me to him?” Her voice was playful, and painfully, he recalled their bargain.

“Yes,” he said. “Something like that.”

He steered her around the yew hedge that separated them from the rose garden and tried very hard not to think about Liam’s suggestion of making Eloise his wife.

* * *

“I must apologize for my grandmother,”Eloise said as soon as they were out of earshot of the other guests, slipping between the yew hedges that would lead them to the rose beds.

Tuck was quiet for too long, and she risked a glance in his direction. He was staring straight ahead, his eyes vacant, and she wondered what was occupying his thoughts.

She went on. “My grandmother has a fanciful notion of what she wishes for her granddaughters, and I’m afraid it sometimes colors her speech.” He still didn’t say anything, and she felt the rush of words as if she could drown the uncomfortable silence. “My grandfather died quite young, you see, and my grandmother was left to her own devices, my grandfather having left her in good financial standing to see her through. She lived a grand life, although you wouldn’t know it now. She traveled all over the Continent and would have gone to America if the tides had been right.” She laughed then, recalling her grandmother’s favorite story of being thwarted in her adventures by Poseidon. “She studied at the Louvre, sketched at the Pantheon, all while taking my father in tow.” She looked again at Tuck, unable to stop her story. “She once danced with a prince. She said she would have run away with him if he’d asked, but he never did, and she held too much respect for herself to chase after him.”

Tuck’s expression was almost grave, and it had the story dying out on her lips. They walked on for several paces before she could no longer take his silence.

“Tuck, what is it? Has my grandmother upset you so?” She swallowed, dared to speak the thing that had plagued her for days now. “Is this about that night in the courtyard? Do you regret it?”

She didn’t know if she could bear his answer. What if he did regret it?

He stopped so abruptly he nearly tore her arm from her shoulder. She turned to face him, and she stilled, taking in his face. There was a fierceness there she’d never seen before, and it stole her breath. She realized absently that they had wandered far from the other guests, their incessant chatter almost gone from her ears, replaced with the sound of the breeze stirring the yew hedges about her and the occasional call of a sparrow.

“Tuck, what’s…” But she couldn’t finish the sentence because his eyes had changed, deepening with something she couldn’t name.

They were alone again. Somehow, after all they had determined not to, they were alone. Never had it been more dangerous for two people to be alone, and she glanced from one side to the other, willing someone to come down the path they were on, someone to discover them, someone to stop her from making another mistake.

But no one came, and Tuck still held her arm.

“What do you want, Eloise?” he said, his voice unlike the one she knew. It was lower, softer, more intense, as though her answer might determine whether he lived or died. “What do you really want?”

He had been holding her arm, but he moved now, slipping his hand down to take hers. He tugged her toward him, and she was helpless to resist him. She fell into his arms, her hands going to press against his chest as he released her arm to take hold of her hips.

“What do you really want?” He stared into her eyes, and she thought she might be caught there forever, in the wonder and possibility she saw in his gaze. “Not what society wants, not what your mother wants, not what’s expected of you. What do you want, Eloise Bounds?”

She felt it, the thing she had pushed down, the thing she had given up, the thing she had thought she had discarded, but she hadn’t. She knew that now because it pressed against her insides. It couldn’t be held in, not when he looked at her like that, not when he held her like this.

Not when he demanded of her the one thing she couldn’t give.

But to him she did give it. They were alone there, surrounded by the tall hedges that blocked them from the rest of it. Right now she could answer his question because society wasn’t there, her mother wasn’t there, the expectations they held for her weren’t there. It was only she and Tuck and this thing that had so inexplicably arisen between them.

This.

This was what she wanted. This was what she had always wanted. She had waited so long to find it, but it had been forced from her dreams when the reality of a third season and the prospect of marrying a duke had proven to be greater than her own wishes. But it didn’t mean her wishes went away.

They were still there, and his words called to them, summoning up the thing inside of her she had tried so desperately to hide.

“I want love.” The words slipped through her lips so easily.

She gave it to him, her secret, and somehow she knew he wouldn’t use it to hurt her. Not intentionally.

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. His fingers flexed, digging into her hips, claiming her in ways words couldn’t, and it pierced her heart. Why now? Why this man? Could the world be so cruel?

“Love.” The word wasn’t a question, nor did he seem to be mocking her. It was more that he was trying to figure out the word by shaping it with his mouth. He laughed then, a horrible, sad sound that made her heart shudder. “Love. What a treacherous word, Eloise. It’s gotten people into all kinds of trouble.” He removed his hands from her hips, and the softest of sighs escaped her lips uncontrollably. He cupped her face, tilted her head back until he could rest his forehead against hers. “And I suppose you want children too? Don’t you? A whole brood of them.” He paused, but she didn’t think she was meant to answer him. His chest rose and fell under her hands as though he were holding something in that was too big for him, too big for anyone to contain. “You want a husband you can wrap around your precious little finger, a biddable sop who will do whatever your heart desires. Isn’t that what you want?” His voice had grown hard, and she wondered if he meant to hurt her with his words.

Well, it wouldn’t work, not with her, because in his voice she could hear the lies he was telling. Not to her, but to himself.

She pulled herself from his grasp so quickly his hands hung suspended in the air the way they had that day in the drawing room so long ago. “No, that’s not what I want.” She was surprised at how steady her voice was, how sure, when she felt anything but confident just then. It was truth that drove her words and nothing else. “I want love, Tuck. Actual love. Not the kind of thing a person would use as a weapon against another person.” She straightened her shoulders and took a step toward him as if by being closer he might understand her better. “I want the kind of love where my husband wants to do those things not because I manipulate him, but because if he doesn’t, his heart just won’t be right.” She flung her arms wide. “I want a whole house full of children. Children bring laughter and noise and—” She shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “And mucus sometimes.” She looked him directly in the eye. “Sometimes they bring so much mucus, but children mean the future and hope and a continuation of the love I will share with my husband. That’s what I want, Tuck.” She prodded him in the chest. “I thought you might understand something of that, but clearly you do not.”

He surprised her by taking her by the finger she used to poke him and wrench her hand aside until she was once more standing flush against his body.

“Do you think I don’t know of what you speak, Eloise? Do you think I haven’t been trying to stop that very thing from happening between us for more than a month?”

She studied his eyes, mesmerized by them as they lit with a fury and passion she’d never witnessed in him before.

“Because if you think I haven’t, then you are not feeling what I’m feeling, and I’ve been a fool this whole time.”

She grabbed the front of his jacket, wrapping her fingers into his lapels as if she might rip the garment from his body. “Of course I’ve been feeling that, you infuriating man. Why else would I put myself through such torture? A mere glimpse of you is all I need to feed my soul a little longer until it’s inevitably crushed when we must part. Why would I subject myself to such torment if it were for anything less than sustenance?”

It was as though something insurmountable shimmered between them. Perhaps it was all that stood against them, all that kept them apart, but just then it didn’t seem such a challenge. It seemed fragile and weak and all so very human, and it broke her in a way nothing else could.

This was what she had wanted all along. To care for another so much as to cause herself pain in order to save him. Save him from having to betray someone who meant so very much to him.

“Sustenance?” He repeated the word as if it shocked him. “If sustenance is what you want then you shall have it.”

His mouth closed on hers before she could anticipate it, and the force of his kiss rocked her back on her heels, but he caught her in his arms, cradling her preciously in such opposition to the heat of his kiss. Her body warred from one extreme to the other as he continued to ravage her, his mouth doing wicked work along her jawline to the sensitive spot behind her ear before sucking her earlobe into his mouth.

The cry lodged in her throat as her body wound impossibly fast to an impossibly tight spiral until she knew she would shatter. But he wasn’t done. He followed the line of her neck down, tilting her back in his arms as his teeth scraped her collarbone and then lower until his lips touched the edge of her bodice.

Suddenly she wanted him to touch her, there, now. Never before had her desire been so persistent. Perhaps it was him. Perhaps it was the despair of knowing she would never have him. Perhaps it was simply the threat of being caught. Whatever it was, her core pulsed with need for him, and she let him take.

But he didn’t.

When his lips would have gone farther, he stopped, drawing back so quickly she stumbled against the hedge at her back, clinging to its branches to keep from falling. She blinked until he came into focus, and she hated how even now, when he’d rejected her, she longed to be once more in his arms.

“If Liam wishes, he can find you himself.” And with that, Tuck strode away.

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