Chapter Seventeen
The next morning, a note was delivered to Waring House with no return address.
Written on fine paper in an elegant hand it read: How dare you claim what is mine by right and by destiny! Your arrogance and your insolence will be the death of you. Karma will not be denied. You cannot stop the winds of fate. They belong to me.
It was not particularly original in comparison to other threats Phin had received for various reasons throughout his past. But a couple things did stand out.
They belong to me.
Not it. They.
Why the plural?
Another thing that stood out was how different the tone and manner of the phrasing was from the what the shadowed man at Vauxhall had said. The more he considered it, the less they seemed to match up in Phin’s mind. It was odd and confusing.
He couldn’t shake the suspicion that the warnings and threats were coming from two different directions.
*
Eleanor did her best to endure calling hours with as much poise as she could muster. But with Lydia not feeling well and Bridget taking callers at her own family home, the Lindley drawing room was disturbingly empty.
Typically, Eleanor wouldn’t be bothered by it. She’d likely be convincing herself that she was enjoying the quiet afternoon without distractions. Today, however, she could barely keep her disappointment and embarrassment from growing with each minute that ticked by on the clock.
Perhaps she’d misunderstood Waring’s parting promise last night.
No. He’d said distinctly that he’d call upon her today.
Had he changed his mind?
Did he regret…?
She shifted in her seat and glanced toward her old nanny who was playing chaperone for the day.
Thankfully, the elderly woman didn’t seem to notice the intense blush pinkening her cheeks as she thought of the kiss.
Nanny sat in the corner of the room, humming a tune to herself as she stubbornly forced her arthritic fingers to perform the arduous task of embroidery she loved so well, blissfully unaware of Eleanor’s growing discomfort.
Thank goodness Ralston wasn’t present today, having some lordly business to attend to.
At least, he claimed to have some important task. Eleanor was inclined to believe it was just an excuse to escape his duties as her constant escort.
And she wouldn’t blame him one bit if that were the case.
There was something going on with him. And though he’d certainly deny it if she even hinted at it, she highly suspected it had something to do with the interesting Miss Dickson.
He hadn’t done anything to openly declare an interest in the woman, but Eleanor had noticed a few subtle signs.
The most telling being that his gaze would often travel in the young woman’s direction if she were present in the room, accompanied by a contemplative—almost frustrated scowl.
Her brother didn’t scowl at things that meant nothing to him.
Eleanor huffed a breath.
Another compulsive glance at the clock revealed there was still an hour left of what would be considered acceptable calling hours.
She didn’t think she could endure another moment of waiting for a man who clearly wasn’t going to make an appearance.
She tried not to feel the weight of disappointment, but she failed miserably.
It seemed Lord Waring had changed his mind about her.
Her stomach clenched. It was nothing new, really. She was accustomed to gentlemen losing interest in her after they engaged in conversation. But she’d actually thought maybe there was something different about the viscount. Maybe…
She shook her head. Maybe nothing.
She’d been wrong.
Smoothing her hand along her skirts, she rose to her feet, noticing her would-be chaperone had fallen asleep. Her old woman’s arthritic hands rested in her lap and her chin rested against her shoulder as her ample bosom rose and fell with deep breaths.
Eleanor was contemplating if she should awaken the woman or allow her to sleep, knowing her naps never lasted very long, when she spied something at the edge of her vision.
Looking toward the doorway, she stilled at the sight of Lord Waring, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe.
His ankles were crossed in a relaxed stance and his hands were tucked into the pockets of his trousers.
A soft smile hovered over his mouth and his blue-green eyes were sharply focused on Eleanor.
How long had he been standing there?
Heat blasted through her core followed swiftly by an icy tingle racing over her skin.
Don’t be a ninny. It was just a kiss. He is just a man. You will not crumple at his feet nor melt with the first flicker of his smile. Pretend it never happened. Forget everything it made you feel and focus on the necklace.
Empty words.
As soon as she looked into his eyes, every sensation she’d experienced the night before came rushing back. The swirling. The heat. The hunger.
As she slowly turned to face him more fully, the viscount straightened his posture and gave a proper bow.
“Good afternoon, my lady,” he said in greeting.
His voice was warm but his eyes glittered with sparks.
“There was no footman when I arrived. I hope it’s alright that I made my way here on my own. ”
Even her father’s servants hadn’t expected her to receive any callers and had left their post. Despite the rush of embarrassment, proper manners were too deeply ingrained and she replied with a gentle nod, “My lord.”
The viscount lowered his chin to look at her with an intimate, teasing expression. “I thought I told you to call me Phin,” he murmured.
“I was starting to doubt you intended to call,” she noted.
“I’d said I would.” His features shifted into a subtle frown as he glanced about the empty room. “I thought it would be easier for you to slip away if I waited for a crowd to gather.”
An awkward laugh slipped free before Eleanor could stop it.
“No crowd, as you can see,” she replied. “Bridget is receiving her many admirers at home today.”
There was a flicker in his eyes before his lips widened into an easy grin. “Even better.” He took a step toward her and her heartrate sped.
“You said there was something you wished to show me. Is it here?”
Eleanor’s stomach clenched as she tensed.
He was here about the necklace. Nothing else. She needed to remember that.
But the kiss.
Forget the kiss.
“Upstairs, actually,” she replied, glancing to her nanny, who’d started to softly snore.
She’d initially thought that she would go to fetch the book and bring it down once he arrived. But now…she realized there was no reason not to just take him to the old music room. Her chaperone was asleep. Her brother was gone from the house. The servants obviously didn’t care.
Maybe it was the frustration she couldn’t ignore at being reminded where his interest lay. Or maybe her disappointment and embarrassment over her constant failure had finally turned to something else. Something slightly angry and rebellious.
If she couldn’t be what everyone expected her to be, maybe it was time to just be herself.
And herself happened to be someone who currently didn’t give a rotten fig for propriety.
“Come with me,” she said firmly before she lost the spark of courage that had suddenly ignited within her.
She strode past the viscount and exited the room, hearing and feeling him close behind her as she continued across the empty hall to the stairs.
It felt scandalous to lead him through her house to her private rooms.
It was scandalous.
But it was also a bit surreal.
Because of how easily she inspired caustic gossip just by being herself, she was always so very careful not to willfully give any additional fodder for the mills.
The strain of having to constantly be aware of how she might be perceived and judged, had left her feeling frozen and stiff for so long that this small act of defiance made her feel daring and bold, indeed.
And she couldn’t help the small curve of satisfaction that claimed her mouth.
“What are you thinking to make you smile like that?” Waring asked as he came up to walk beside her along the wide upper hallway.
The smile faltered. She should’ve known he’d be watching her. He always seemed to notice things about her she’d prefer to keep to herself. Sliding him a quick sideways glance, she tried to prepare herself for the rush of extreme awareness she always felt when meeting his gaze.
It didn’t help.
In an instant, her body felt too warm, too trembly, too present. And awkwardness quickly followed.
Pink rushed to her cheeks and her lashes fluttered. Only pride kept her from stumbling.
He smiled back, his handsome features curious and amiable.
Eleanor shrugged. “I was just thinking of how unlike me all of this is.”
“This?” he asked with a tilt of his head.
She made an encompassing gesture. “Receiving a gentleman without a chaperone. Engaging in clandestine meetings. Facing some unclarified threat.”
His smile curled. “I’m disappointed you didn’t mention our kiss last night.”
Heat billowed through her core and her lips parted on a silent gasp as her feet refused to function and she came to a stumbling stop. She’d convinced herself they were going to pretend nothing of the sort happened. That he would so brazenly comment on it left her speechless.
His eyes glittered as he turned to face her and dropped his voice to an intimate tone. “Please don’t say you regret it.”
Still shocked, Eleanor started to speak no less than three times before she gave up.
“Do you?” he asked roughly, his gaze piercing. “Regret it?”
She managed to shake her head.
A smiled tilted his mouth. “Did you enjoy it?”
Another burst of shock had her blurting, “I’m not going to answer that.”
He arched a brow. “How else shall I decide if I should do it differently next time.”
Her eyes widened and words seemed to tumble from her lips. “Next time? Differently?”
The curve of his mouth broadened slowly, drawing her gaze and stirring her belly, as he nodded.
“There are so many more ways I’ve imagined kissing you…
” His voice faded to a rough murmur as his focus dropped to her mouth.
“Reverently…playfully…tenderly.” He took a breath and lifted his gaze back to hers. “With ravenous possession.”
Eleanor had stopped breathing and had to force a deep inhalation before she could manage a response. But even then, she had to turn away and start walking down the hall again before she could get her words out with an audible tremor. “Well…there cannot be a next time.”
The viscount fell into step beside her. “Is that what you want? Or is it what you think you should want?”
Eleanor couldn’t answer that. Not because she didn’t know the truth, but because she did.
They reached the music room in that moment. Pushing the door open, she entered a step ahead of him.