Chapter 6
Six
Elena had thought the Earl of Rosebery would want to be by her side at every moment and ensure she would desire to wed him.
Instead, he had become complacent and ignored her.
He spent hours with stewards, solicitors, and servants.
His presence had been felt everywhere in the estate and yet, infuriatingly, he had not been at her side.
When he did appear, it was with measured courtesy and a distance that made her feel as though she didn’t matter.
It unsettled her more than anything ever could.
Rejection was not something she ever thought she would experience.
That was what he had done with her. He had decided that she was not worth the effort.
He was letting her go without even truly trying.
So, she decided to test him. Would he really let her go so easily?
It had seemed reasonable in the moment to mention she would leave at dawn and have a pleasant conversation with a gentleman who was eager to flatter her.
A careless laugh meant to remind Damian that he did not hold her attention by right.
She had not expected the heat in Damian’s eyes when he crossed the room.
She had not expected that calm, lethal jealousy and she had not expected the bluntness of his truth.
Truth he had delivered without raising his voice, without making a spectacle.
Elena had expected Damian to fight with her and demand that she remain at Rosebery Park.
He had done nothing she had thought he would.
Instead, he had offered her assistance with her departure.
To ensure she remained safe if leaving was what she truly decided.
She had expected him to be nearby and that at every turn she would find him lurking around every corner.
More importantly, she had expected him to yield his desires with calm insistence that she should become his wife, and to press and press until she either yielded or shattered.
Now, after the drawing room had slowly resumed its conversations, Elena stood near the window with Rowan.
Her heart beat far too quickly for a woman who had insisted she wanted freedom.
None of it had gone as she envisioned and now she was not certain she even knew what it was that she wanted.
Did she truly wish to leave and never see the earl again.
Did he truly intend to not fight for her.
Why had he bothered with it all if he wasn’t going to press his suit with her?
Rowan’s expression was razor-sharp. “What are ye doing?” she murmured keeping her voice low as she spoke.
Elena lifted her chin. “I am doing nothing.” That was a lie. She was testing the earl and he was…failing. She had wanted far different results. She had wanted a fight for the ages.
Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “That is not what it looked like tae me.” She smirked. “Ye wanted a different reaction, didn’t ye?”
Elena’s mouth tightened. “He was ignoring me.”
Rowan gave a quiet, incredulous sound. “He is giving ye space. Ye demanded it.”
“Yes,” Elena snapped, then lowered her voice. “And now he behaves as though he does not care whether I remain.”
Rowan’s gaze softened—briefly. “Perhaps he cares tae much.”
Elena’s stomach dipped. Before she could answer, a familiar voice cut in—smooth and faintly amused. “She is being impossible,” Julian Cameron drawled.
Elena turned. The Marquess of Kinross stood a short distance away, one brow lifted, his expression the very picture of elegant provocation.
Damian’s best friend looked as though he enjoyed watching fires spread, provided he was not the one burned.
Rowan went instantly still. Elena noticed, as she always did now, the change in her posture.
How her chin lifted a fraction higher, how her smile turned sharp and there was a certain gleam in her eye whenever the marquess was near.
She would have to ask Rowan about it later.
Rowan’s voice was honey over steel. “And ye are obnoxious, Lord Kinross. I am glad ye are not my burden tae bear.”
Julian’s mouth curved. “Ah, Lady Rowan ye do wonders fer my heart. Ye speak so highly of me. I do adore yer company.”
Rowan rolled her eyes. “How flattering. I shall cherish the opinion of a man who has never had a thought that did not begin and end with himself.”
Julian’s gaze narrowed slightly, and Elena could see it, the spark, the tension, and the desire that hovered between the two of them.
There was a bitter history that lived between them like a knife lodged too deep to remove though.
Neither of them were likely to act on that desire or see that need fulfilled.
“Ye are determined tae dislike me,” Julian said in a mild tone.
Rowan’s smile widened. “It saves time.”
Julian leaned in slightly, enough to be improper but not enough for anyone to call him on it. “And yet,” he murmured, “ye keep looking at me as though ye find me appealing.”
Rowan’s cheeks colored, just faintly, and Elena’s brows rose. How cheeky…this conversation was almost more intriguing than her own woes.
Rowan’s reply was immediate. “Only tae ensure ye do not trip over yer own arrogance.”
Julian laughed and it held a low and delighted tone. “Careful, Lady Rowan. If ye continue, people will think ye care.”
Rowan’s eyes glittered. “Let them.” The words fell with such force that Elena startled.
Julian’s smile softened, just for a breath, before it sharpened again. “That is precisely the trouble with ye,” he said. “Ye would rather be ruined than honest.”
Rowan stepped closer, voice dropping. “And ye would rather be adored than see the truth.”
Elena’s pulse quickened. The room was watching.
She could feel it, eyes turning, curiosity prickling with each sharp turn of phrase.
Even distant conversations began to taper as people sensed the crackle of conflict.
Julian’s gaze flicked past Rowan to Elena, as if drawing her into the game.
“Tell me, Lady Elena,” he said lightly, “is my friend always so fond of control?”
“I assume you mean the earl.” Elena’s mouth tightened. “Lord Rosebery’s fondness for control is legendary.”
Julian’s eyes gleamed. “And yet he looks thoroughly… provoked whenever ye are near.”
Elena’s gaze shifted involuntarily toward Damian.
He stood near the mantel again, speaking to a guest. His posture was composed and his expression remained calm.
But Elena could see it now, having been on the receiving end of it.
His attention was not fully on the conversation.
His gaze kept flicking toward her. Not possessive in a crude way and not demanding.
He was being watchful and tracking her every more and every action.
As though he was forcing himself to let her move freely while something in him fought the impulse to take one step closer.
Elena’s throat tightened. What did she want?
Did she really want to continue to provoke him or did she want to give into her true desire.
She wanted him and had only been fighting it this long to prove a point. A point he had clearly gotten…
Rowan’s voice sliced into her thoughts. “Lord Kinross enjoys stirring trouble,” she said coolly. “It is the only thing he excels at.”
Julian’s hand pressed to his chest in mock affront. “Only that? How cruel.” He flashed her a wicked grin. “Trust me, love, I have many skills and perhaps one day ye might learn what they are.”
Rowan’s gaze held his. “I dinna wish tae learn anything about ye.”
Julian’s smile turned dangerous. “Be careful, Lady Rowan. One day someone might return yer bite with something sharper.”
Rowan’s eyes did not waver. “They certainly may try.”
Elena stared at her and suddenly became aware that Rowan’s anger was not only anger. It was something else. Something far more dangerous…it was interest and desire.
Julian leaned back, clearly pleased. “Rosebery,” he called lightly, “yer house is full of unruly women. How do ye endure it?”
Damian’s gaze lifted at once, calm, controlled. “With ease,” he replied evenly.
Julian’s eyes gleamed. “I dinna believe ye. But I’ll let ye live in yer delusion.”
Damian’s gaze flicked—to Elena. For a heartbeat, his composure cracked just enough that she could see the truth he refused to show.
Yes he was not as ease as he claimed to be.
Elena’s heart stuttered and she had to hold herself still or she would go to him.
She suddenly wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him.
Would he lose that control he craved so much?
Rowan’s hand brushed Elena’s sleeve…subtle, grounding. “Doona test him again,” Rowan murmured, voice barely audible. “Not like that.”
Elena swallowed. Her pride demanded defiance.
Her heart, treacherous and inconvenient, whispered something else.
Go to him… Because Damian’s restraint had felt like rejection…
until she realized the truth beneath it.
He was not indifferent and he was refusing to cage her.
Somehow, that made him far more dangerous than a man who would have chased her.
Elena lifted her chin, forcing her voice steady. “If I choose to leave at dawn,” she said softly, as if speaking to Rowan, “then I shall.”
Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “Do ye want tae?”