She hated it. She hated the idea of a ball, too, but the other was worse.
She cleared her throat. “Well, of course I am very excited about the gathering,” she lied. “Is there any way I can help with the preparations?”
“No, just bring your lovely self and try to have fun,” Amelia said. “Now I must go speak to Masters. I’ll see you at tea later today, yes?”
“Of course,” Lizzie called out because Amelia was already ducking away, leaving the door open behind her.
Lizzie walked to the fireplace. She stared into the flames and clenched and unclenched her hands at her sides. Pressure felt like it was building inside her. Pressure over her family’s view of her, pressure over what she’d done to cause it, pressure over the attachment she didn’t want to feel toward Morgan Banfield, and pressure because she didn’t want to lose that attachment either.
It seemed she lived in a world of in-between. Never quite belonging, never quite finding her place. “Bloody hell,” she muttered.
“Well, that’s unexpected.”
She pivoted to find Morgan standing at her doorway, lounging lazily against the doorjamb with a grin on his handsome face. She blushed as she realized he’d heard her curse and bent her head. “Excuse me, I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone.”
“Apparently so,” he said with a laugh. “But don’t stop on my account. If you’re upset—” He stopped talking and his brow furrowed as he looked at her. He straightened and stepped into the room. “Youareupset. What’s wrong?”
Lizzie spun away from him. Of course, he would materialize to tempt her and then see right through her. Of course he would, because that was just her luck. Just her weakness.
“It doesn’t matter,” she muttered.
“I’m afraid it does.” His voice was closer now and she peeked over her shoulder to find he was just a long step away. He could almost reach out and brush his fingertips along her bare arm. She wanted him to do just that. She wanted him to kiss her even though she recognized the folly in that.
She sighed. “It’s nothing important,” she assured him. “It’s just Amelia’s ball tonight. She…sprang it on me just now and I wasn’t expecting it.”
“She sprang it on you?” he repeated.
Lizzie laughed at the look of surprise on his face, even though she felt no humor in the situation. “Yes, they…they do that sometimes?”
“Why?”
She lifted her chin and tried to maintain a little dignity. “To force me to attend.”
His lips parted and for a moment there was a flash of anger that crossed his face. Defensive…of her? “That seems…uncharacteristically cruel of the duchess,” he said.
“No,” she said swiftly, to defend her beloved sister-in-law. “Amelia would never,everbe cruel to me or to anyone else. It isn’t that Ican’tgo. It’s just—” She cut herself off. How did she say this to this man who saw everything? How did she tell him without him seeing the past play out on her face? “It’s complicated.”
He did exactly what she feared. He leaned in and those dark brown eyes flitted over her, easily taking what she fought so hard to conceal. His frown deepened, concern lining his face. “Why is it complicated, Elizabeth?”
Her lips parted. His question was said in such a warm, hypnotic tone, and he looked so accepting. As if she could whisper the truth to him and find a safe place to fall after the inevitable collapse. Worse yet, shewantedto whisper what she’d done, what she was, all her secrets.
And that was, of course, exactly why she couldn’t. She had already determined it was time to distance herself from this man who saw too much. If she wanted to maintain her sanity, she had to do it now.
“Morgan,” she whispered. “I think we should…talk.”
He arched a brow with a half-smile. “Nothing good comes of that sentence, does it?”
“And yet we must regardless,” she said, and motioned to the chairs before her fire.
As he moved to them, she went to the door. She stared at it. Propriety said to leave it open. That a lady such as herself shouldn’t be alone with a gentleman. Especially one she had so inappropriately kissed over and over again. Especially one who always looked like he would devour her if he had a chance.
But propriety and privacy were two different things. She didn’t want the world to hear what she was about to say. And that need to protect the sweet moments they’d shared won over everything else. She pushed the door shut and his pupils dilated when she did so.
“Please sit,” she asked as she did the same. He joined her and was silent as he waited for her to take the lead. It wasn’t a natural state, but she struggled to do so regardless. “Morgan, I…we…” She shook her head. Gracious, she was an educated, literate person. Why was it so hard to find words?
“Take your time,” he soothed, and she watched his hands twitch in his lap like he wanted to reach out to her.
She drew in a few breaths and found some tiny center in the storm of her emotions. “It is obvious there is something between us.”
