Chapter 13 #2
“Well enough, thank you. I am settling into my earldom rather well.” His eyes slid to Elinor, who waited patiently to be introduced. “And this is your betrothed that has made the ton erupt with gossip, I am assuming?”
“She is indeed,” Lucien answered. “Lady Elinor, this is the Earl of Hilton, as of several weeks ago, if I am not mistaken?”
“You are not.” Lord Hilton flashed her a charming smile, and Elinor curtsied to him.
“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Hilton.”
“And Lord Hilton, this is Lady Elinor, the daughter of Marquess Morland.”
“The Marquess of Morland?” Lord Hilton repeated, his brows pulling, as if he was recalling her father. “Forgive my wording, but didn’t Lord Morland retire to the countryside some years ago for his health?”
Elinor’s chest tightened as she nodded. “He did.”
“I do hope all is well with him,” the lord said, his mouth pinching in sympathy.
“From his letters, it seems so. I have not been able to visit him recently.”
The story was easy to say. The truth was that her stepmother had all but forbidden her to journey out to the countryside, always insisting she stressed her father out further.
It was a cruel, awful lie, and Elinor had to remind herself of that each time.
Lucien’s hand brushed the small of her back, a grounding touch that Elinor told herself she did not lean back into slightly. She did not realize what it did to have support right there, holding her together should she not be able to herself.
“Excellent to hear,” Lord Hilton said, unaware of Elinor leaning on Lucien.
“The two of you must join me for a drink some time at my townhouse. I am currently in the process of renovating it. I cannot have a Countess enter a home that looks as though it was decorated several decades ago. Well, it was, of course, but I am changing that. I wish to invite my future wife, whoever she may be, into a more modern home.”
“Most considerate of you,” Lucien said. “I am doing something similar.”
“You are?”
“Indeed.”
“Then Lady Elinor must be thrilled to hear of that for her future home. Near future, I do hope, though. It is nice to see you finally settling down, Fairmont.” Elinor glanced up at Lucien, finding his jaw fluttering, but his smile remained in place.
“Anyway, I shall not keep you. I am certain you both are a very popular couple here today, so I shall let you continue your rounds. Enjoy the party.”
He bowed to them before departing, and Elinor wasted no time turning to Lucien, her questions ready, but he was already prepared.
“Do not ask,” he muttered.
“I would like to,” she countered. “You ask me plenty.”
“As did you, the other night.”
“Which you did not answer.”
“I believe I did.”
For a brief second, his eyes dropped to her mouth before lifting again. When his eyes then met hers, she felt a jolt of something go through her, something demanding and … pleasant.
Was this when they were supposed to discuss what had happened in the office at Fielding House?
But Lucien pressed on her back, urging her along.
“Does it not bother you, though?” Elinor, trying to distract her thoughts from the shape of his mouth, the taste of coffee that had lingered on his tongue.
“It is clear you have built a reputation you enjoy, and now you are changing that for the sake of … Well, the children, yes, but I still do not understand it all.”
“I am certain I was quite clear that I wished to escape the marriage mart, and this was the easiest route.”
There was something sharp to his voice, not harsh, but firm, as if it was a warning for her to restrain herself before he did get harsh.
“I understand that,” she insisted. “But what of when our engagement ends? Will you not simply be seen as available again?”
“I thought you were thinking of the children in all of this,” he said abruptly, turning back to her as more people approached them.
“I … I am,” she spluttered.
“Then focus on that rather than my own reasons, and stop asking me questions that you know the answers to.”
“Lucien—”
“Come,” he said to her. “We must get you introduced to more people.”
Elinor’s next protest died on her tongue as she let herself be guided by him further into the garden. Still, his hand did not stray from her back, and she felt the warmth of his skin through the fabric of her honey-colored gown.
Right before they were greeted by an older couple, Lucien paused. “I forgot to mention,” he said, “that I like your gown today.” As if to emphasize his point, he toyed with the fabric.
She could feel the movement against her skin, and she fought another shiver.
Despite his earlier sharpness, he smiled a little at her, as if he knew she was holding back a reaction.
“It is an old one that I never got a chance to wear,” she muttered.
“Well, I am pleased you chose to wear it today,” he told her. “It brings out the blue of your eyes.”
His fingers were ever so distracting, and Elinor had to step out of his grasp. Lucien fought back a wider smile at her frown.
“You are ever so confusing,” she mumbled.
“Perhaps I just do not wish to be figured out.”
“For a rake, that is rather out of character.”
He chuckled, keeping in stride with her. “Oh, Elinor, that is what being a rake is all about. We bury our true selves deep down and present another version of ourselves to society.”
“Oh, I do not believe that,” she snorted. “You love every inch of who the ton know you to be, I can see it in your face. Although, it is rather unfair. You are getting to know me in my authentic self, but I cannot know you?”
Lucien stopped walking at that, pausing at the entrance to a hedge maze, as though he did not expect her to challenge such a thing. “That … is a fair point, actually.”
Before Elinor could smirk, he had tugged her into the hedge maze, spinning her around so her back was to the neatly trimmed greenery. He loomed close, and Elinor glanced at the entrance, fearing that somebody might see them in such a position.
“Elinor,” he purred, leaning in close. Once again, his mouth came near the shell of her ear, except this time, his lips brushed the shell of it. “Just how badly do you wish to know me?”
Her breath caught, not wanting to humiliate herself by misunderstanding him once again. It only gave him further ammunition to tease her.
“Well, given that this is a farce, it does not matter, does it? I just believe that you are nosy. And entitled.”
“Oh, am I?”
“Yes.”
“Then why has your voice become so breathless at me asking how much you wish to know me?”
“It—it has not.”
Lucien laughed under his breath, his mouth still lingering at the base of her ear. Elinor’s eyes fluttered closed, trying not to react, for there was no reason to. She was not attracted to the Duke of Fairmont, and he had no right to make her feel as though she was.
“Perhaps I am just a good actress,” she said, but her voice still was truly breathless. “And I wish to stoke your ego.”
His breath was warm on her skin as he huffed a laugh. “No, you do not, for you are not that type of lady. You do not need to preen at a man for his benefit. In fact, I think you are the complete opposite, and you would hate that, so I am tempted to believe your reactions are all genuine.”
“You are the one who asked me to be your perfect actress, no?”
“And yet there is nobody watching us right now.”
“Neither was there in the office the other night,” she dared to say.
Lucien drew back suddenly, a smirk dancing beautifully on his lips. He searched her face for several seconds before he nodded, as if to himself. “That was your foolish thought earlier. You have been thinking about it.”
“I have not,” she insisted. “In fact, I had forgotten it even happened.”
“Is that so?”
Elinor nodded, but her eyes fell to his lips, as his had done to hers earlier. Her chest felt unbearably tight. Not with emotion, but the effort of holding herself back, of her breath shortening so much from what he was doing to her.
“Elinor.” His voice dropped low. “When will you admit that I affect you?”
“I will not need to, because you do not.” She pushed past him, only for him to grasp her wrist, once again whirling her around.
Only, this time, she stumbled right into his chest.
His arm went around her waist to steady her, the other hand still clutching her wrist.
“Is your ego so big that you need to convince yourself that every lady will fall at your feet?” she huffed.
“I enjoy your sharp tongue,” he said, echoing a sentiment he had already told her. “Let it speak some more. It excites me.”
“I imagine a great deal excites you—”
“You excite me,” he interrupted. “You, and everything I am learning that you are.”
His arm tightened around her waist, and Elinor didn’t have the strength to restrain her true reaction this time. Her chest heaved with breathlessness, and a small noise of protest left her. Lucien’s face lowered to hers slowly.
“If you have forgotten our kiss,” he murmured, “then I will remind you.”
“What if I like that I have forgotten it?”
“I do not think you do,” he countered. “But I do not believe you have forgotten it, for you cannot stop looking at my mouth as if you are remembering how it felt on yours.”
Elinor held her breath as he continued to get closer, but voices that were concerningly close had her pulling back sharply.
Without his body against hers, she felt oddly empty, but she hurried out of the hedge maze, taking a few moments to collect herself. She distanced herself from the entrance, so it did not look too suspicious when Lucien strode out not long after her.
“There you are,” he called out loudly, drawing the attention of several people gathered near them. “I have been looking for you, my beautiful bride-to-be.”
He flashed her a wide grin, making Elinor realize she was starting to notice the difference in his genuine smiles, opposed to these put-on ones.
His real smile was softer, slow to appear, nothing like the ready, quick smirk he let the ton see, and, as they ventured deeper into the tea party, Elinor could only think of wishing for the true one again.
But more than that, she wished that he had kissed her again.
And she couldn’t untangle the reasoning of that wish.