Chapter 2 #2
That was always the trouble with being a part of his family, he supposed. No matter how delicately one wished to move about the world, there was always such a hue and cry about you, regardless of what you did.
His parents had learned to live with it, and they had assured Rupert he would too, in time. That time had not yet arrived.
“I did not mean—entice is not the right word,” Elizabeth said, her cheeks scalding.
Rupert was certain that if the lady had permitted him to get close enough—and chance would be a fine thing—he would be able to feel the heat from her face.
“You wished to orchestrate this, this scandalous situation—”
“Is it so scandalous?” Rupert asked, sitting languidly in an armchair without taking his eyes from her. Not that it was much of a hardship; the outrage clearly rushing through her heart was giving Elizabeth a delicate glow that was most becoming. “All we are doing is talking.”
She glared. “That is not all you wished to do.”
Well, it would be churlish not to agree. “So you wish to reconsider my offer?”
“Reconsider your—I hope you do not think you are about to kiss me!” said Elizabeth, clearly outraged.
Ah, it had been worth a try. But if they were truly locked in here, Rupert thought rapidly, then there was little chance of them being discovered for hours. Until the morning, perhaps, and at that point there certainly would be a scandal.
Blast. He had promised his parents, the moment they had set foot in London, that he would not be…well. Indiscrete.
What would they call getting locked in a library overnight with a lady of the ton?
“You…you promise that you do not have the key on your person?” came Elizabeth’s nervous voice.
Rupert smiled. “I have a key on my person.”
Why did he gain such pleasure from teasing her? Why did he find her glares to be far more intoxicating than the vacant grins of ladies so obviously attempting to get into his bed?
What was this woman doing to him?
“To your lodgings, I suppose,” Elizabeth said dryly. “Or room, which I suppose is more likely.”
Rupert thought of the room that was his while he was in London. It was larger than most houses were in this pokey London, yes, but it was technically just a room, he supposed. “Yes, my room.”
Elizabeth gave a dry laugh. “Yes, I thought as much. Well, I should have known I could not be put in such a disgraceful position with someone better than that—you know what I mean. The key to the library.”
“Which library?” asked Rupert, crossing his legs sedately.
“This—you are most infuriating, you do know that, don’t you?” said Elizabeth.
Rupert could not help but smile. She was marvellous. Such a temper, such refinement at the same time. How did she do it?
“I do not have the key to this room,” he said finally, thinking it was madness to attempt to keep the truth from her any longer. “Do you?”
“Do—you think I would lock us in here?” She was staring at him with great incredulity. “You must think me a harlot, sir!”
Sir. Goodness, Rupert had never been called sir in his life. It was a rather interesting distraction, but then the curves of the woman before him were a much finer distraction than he had ever seen.
If only he could remove some of those layers, take a really good look at—
“Where are you from, anyway?” Elizabeth shot at him from across the room. She had her back to the bookshelves again, as though she did not trust herself to get any closer to him for fear of him carrying out his desire. “You are not English.”
“No, I am not,” said Rupert pleasantly.
He was examining her a little more closely now. Had she known who he was, before she had attracted his attention so entirely in Lady Jarrold’s drawing room? He had assumed not, after the way she had treated him…but perhaps that was all an act.
Perhaps she had heard how he did not like to be fawned over, given his situation, and thought she would try something else.
Well, whatever her intentions, it was working, Rupert thought wryly. He had never been so intrigued by a woman in all his days. she was remarkable, absolutely remarkable.
Even when she was glaring at him like that, as though he had gravely offended her.
“Well?” she said pointedly.
Rupert sighed. Well, he would have to let the pretence continue, just for a little while longer. “I am Austrian, as you very well know.”
There was a flicker of confusion in her eyes there—and again, as she took in his words. Was it possible…Rupert had not been sure, still wasn’t, but he had assumed that everyone would know him. Had not Lady Jarrold been boasting all evening of his presence?
His presence which his mother had insisted on, he would never have bothered to lower himself to attend a card party of a mere Lady if he’d had any say in the matter.
But the moment Lady Elizabeth had walked in…
Rupert swallowed. well, he’d had no choice.
He had to know her, had to speak to her, had to know as much about her as possible.
Gaining her name had been easy from his hostess, but the moment he had attempted to speak to her, Elizabeth had either run rings around him, or literally locked him in a library.
“I suppose,” Elizabeth sniffed, “I shall have to trust you, on the assumption that you are a gentleman. That you do not have the key, I mean.”
Rupert grinned. “That is rather gracious of you, Lady Elizabeth.”
She smiled coldly. “Well, it is something that the English know much about, particularly English nobility, to which I belong.”
It was difficult not to laugh aloud. Well, he was about to find out whether she had known the whole time.
“I would not know much about it,” he said clearly, “as an Austrian prince.”