“He recently wed so we shall not bother him with this.”
Lucian stood. “All I will ask is that he give me his opinion on how best to proceed after I tell him what the letters contain and what incidents you believe he refers to. Only then will we decide if those letters should be burned.”
“Wewill decide nothing, Lord Garretson. I will.” Eliza stood and stomped into the house. Besides having someone watching that kept her a prisoner, she hated that Lucian was trying to take control by deciding that he would seek an outside opinion and dictating what she should and should not do. She knew what was best for herself and all decisions would be hers!
“What of your doll?” Lucian asked as he followed her inside. “Do you intend to leave it outside?”
“Yes. It needs to be cleansed by the sun.”
“For how long?” His chuckle fell between humor and condescension, which only fueled her irritation, especially since she did not have an answer. That had not been provided in the instructions Oliver sent along.
“When I decide it has been long enough.” With that she plopped down behind the desk and picked up a pencil. “If that will be all, I need to return to my novel.”
Lucian raised an eyebrow and shook his head then wandered from the room. Eliza rose to follow then shut the door behind him.
Irritating man!
Now what was she to do? She couldn’t work. Not until her hand was more rested, but she’d kicked him out of the parlor and if she left to go to her chamber then he would know that she had lied.
Blast!
Taking sheets from the top of the stack and a pencil, Eliza returned outside and settled at the table and poured more lemonade. She was safe out here so long as a footman stood guard. And, just because she could not write pages and pages of manuscripts, she could make small notes in the margins of the earlier version, so long as it was not too much writing.
This task occupied her for the rest of the afternoon, and she made much progress in her edits, which would save time when she returned to writing, and often returned inside for more pages of the manuscript. In fact, she did not stop working until it began to grow dark and a raindrop fell onto the parchment. She’d been so caught up in what she was doing, that Eliza hadn’t even noticed that a storm had moved in.
She quickly gathered her papers just before the wind began to blow then rushed to pick up the doll and returned inside. The footman followed with the tray of what was left of the lemonade and glasses. She closed the door behind him, and firmly locked it. She may not like being a prisoner of the estate, but she was not going to make it easy for anyone to enter either.
Chapter15
After Lucian pennedthe long and detailed accounting of the letters Eliza had received to Xavier, he rode into town to see that it was posted. He could have asked a servant to do this, but believed it was too important to leave to anyone else. Hopefully his brother, based on his experience and education, would be able to advise on the best course of action. He had then visited the pubs and inns and asked around once again if any strangers had come to town in the last month and not left. Once again, he was told that there had been no one.
He had just stepped from the tailor when he nearly ran into Mrs. Angelica Watkins and was taken aback. She’d once been his lover. She had been a young widow and lonely when dancing at an assembly led to intimate encounters. She fulfilled a need as he did for her. Except, after a time, Angelica had wanted more from Lucian than he was willing to give. She had missed being married, and as much as he enjoyed her company, could not consider her as a wife.
It was nothing particular about her that was objectionable, Lucian simply did not love her and was not certain that he ever would.
“Lord Garretson, it is good to see you again.” Angelica’s smile was knowing, her eyes seductive as she stepped near him.
“Mrs. Watkins,” he greeted.
“If I may be so bold, I have missed you.”
The coyness of her smile did nothing for him. At one time he had enjoyed the games that led to bed sport, but such flirtations now left him empty.
“I do not come to town often,” he answered politely.
“It is not seeing you in town that I miss,” she boldly advised.
“Yes, well, while the moments we shared were enjoyable, we agreed that it was time for the association to end as we both wanted something different.”
“What if I no longer want to be a wife again?” she asked with a flutter of her eyelashes. “Perhaps I have come to enjoy an independent life with the freedom offered only to a widow.”
“I am happy for you, but I am afraid that it changes nothing between us.”
Her smile slipped. “I must admit that I am rather disappointed.”
“I am sorry,” he offered. What else was he to say?
It had also been six months since they last enjoyed the company of the other and Lucian was rather surprised that Angelica had not found another lover. She had been insatiable, nearly exhausting.
