The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2(143)
Such passion was a gift, he knew. He might mention the cave in order to trigger further intimacy, but he wanted her to make her choice of beau with her head and heart, not her loins.
So if Will was to win her for himself it, had to be fair and square, or not at all.
Chapter Ten
Will having no chance to win Elizabeth's hand at all was what it began to look like the next day as Will saw that several of the other men from the evening get-together the night before had come to visit even earlier than he and his family's party.
After a restless night in which he had replayed every look, every word which had passed between them in his mind, he had risen before dawn, unable to sleep, and with his duties pressing.
He knew he ought to cry off of the house party which had hastily been arranged after the dancing the night before, but Elizabeth was just too much of a temptation for him. He did not want to make an ass of himself in front of the whole of Ardmore when she spurned his advances, but something within compelled him to see her.
In the end he had not been able to help himself. He had crawled back through the dank tunnel which led to the wine cellar of his house, and gone up to take a bath and dress with care.
Even taking his time with his toilette and having a short distance to travel to Clancar Castle, he was very early. He waited impatiently while Vevina and Stewart dragged themselves out of bed.
He passed the time helping the children get ready, and broke his fast with some eggs and sausage, even though he felt so choked up with nerves at the prospect of seeing Elizabeth again that he could barely swallow.
Once he arrived at Ellesmere Manor, he saw that Monroe and Mitchell had been out riding, and stopped in to ask if she wanted to come. She had declined, but invited them in for breakfast.
The Teague brothers had also decided to call, and her cousin Marcus Fitzsimmons. There would be no chance to get her alone now. What on earth could he do or say even if he did? If he ever dared presume again. He shook his head. Now that she had so many other far more eligible beaux, he would probably end up with a good tongue-lashing, and a sharp slap.
Parks had come in with Will, Vevina and Stewart, and had managed to insinuate himself into the conversation quickly. Then he had thrust his friend into the seat which had been made available for him. Now Will sat on the sofa next to her in the small morning room, and observed his lady love.
Dressed in an elegant day gown of Turkey red with small gold flowers, her hair tied with a simple red ribbon, she looked as innocent as a newborn kitten, and brought out just as fierce a desire within him to cuddle and stroke her until she purred as she had in the cave.
He looked around the room and noted the gleams in the men's eyes, but they were not always due to her appearance, but rather the fine furnishings, tapestries, and silver.
He sighed. Elizabeth was a lovely woman, bright, intelligent, war and loving; why then was she surrounded by people who only seemed to be able to see her fortune?
Fitzsimmons didn't just see her fortune, though it was certainly a huge carrot for him. He saw a supple young body, firm breasts, and rosebud lips just ripe for all sort of delights. But he had learned his lesson the day before. The girl might be the most lusty wench this side of St. Stephen's Green's street corners, but her family had some odd notions about what women were for. Running an estate indeed. Being accomplished. Interested in politics.
He had sneered to himself about their absurd ideas as he had strode up to the front door earlier, wanting to get the jump on everyone else, and being furious to find Monroe and Mitchell there before him. The serving maid he had just tumbled, and the one last night, had in no way taken the edge off his desire.
He was not a man women said no to. They could dress it up with all sorts of flowery phrases: falling in love; a meeting of minds; finding their soul mate. But it was really just appetite, a different kind of hunger waiting to be fed. Whatever they called it, he was more than happy to cram the girl full of sausage.
Only in Elizabeth Eltham's case, she was so arousing, and her fortune and connections so great, that he was going to do his utmost to win her for his wife. He had never planned to put his head in the noose—use them and lose them had always been his motto. But now…. Money, the prospect of rogering her until she screamed... What a triumph that would be. Becoming the Duke of Ellesmere's brother- in-law. Thomas' nose would be well and truly put out of joint.
He had always tried to be polite to his vastly wealthy distant relation, but had always had the sense that Thomas looked down on him, though he affected to be a Radical. Hypocrites, the whole lot of them. It was easy to talk about helping the poor when you had twenty homes to choose from, each more grand than the next. His sister was a pretty little thing, young, a virgin. He had no doubt that Thomas would be vehemently opposed to the marriage.