“Well, if you change your mind, you know where I can be found.” She smiled and glided past him.
Lucian glanced after her and noted the auburn curls peeking out from beneath her bonnet and frowned. Why was it that most of the women he had bedded were auburn or redheaded? While it wasn’t an unusual color, it certainly wasn’t seen as often as blonde or even brunette.
Was he simply attracted to that color of hair, and the pale skin often associated with the hair color, and that is why he desired Eliza? Or was he drawn to women with that color of hair because Eliza was the only woman with whom he’d ever experienced the stirrings of true passion?
He had desired Angelica and he made certain that she enjoyed their time together as much as he, but it was physical need, not passion. If he could not experience passion and love, then he would not wed. Angelica had not understood and they parted ways.
Passion, love, and dominance is something he craved in intimacy, but had yet to experience all three with one woman. Passion had been present on rare occasions, as well as dominance, but not in the same encounter, and he had yet to experience love.
Thank goodness he hadn’t fallen in love with Eliza, nor did he expect to, but the passion had existed from the first moment they kissed. As for dominance, Lucian nearly laughed. He doubted Eliza would ever allow anyone to dictate to her in any circumstance.
Oh, but to hold that dominance over Eliza and bring her to release over and over, have her call out his name, beg even.
Lucian pushed aside the thoughts because it would never be. Eliza would never give up her control or power to another. Not even in the bedchamber. He knew that the moment she had kissed him so long ago. A woman who was first to kiss instead of waiting would wrestle for power in the bed. Though, with Eliza, perhaps the battle might leave them both happily sated.
Lucian retrieved his horse from the mews and lectured himself to stop thinking about Eliza and bed sport, especially when only a sitting room separated their sleeping chambers. It would be so easy to cross from his door to hers.
At the rumble above, Lucian looked to the sky and noted the dark, angry clouds. An instant later, the wind grew stronger as raindrops began pelting his skin. Did he return to town to wait out the storm, or ride headlong to Wyndhill Park?
He wanted to be home.
Bending low and over the horse’s neck, he kicked him into a gallop, a speed he kept up until they reached the stables. Lucian dismounted and led him inside, both soaked. The stable hand would see to brushing the steed and Lucian left him and made his way back to the house, entering by the front door and stood dripping on the tiled entry as the butler rushed forward to take his hat and coat.
“Shall I draw you a warm bath?” his valet asked as Lucian entered his bedchamber.
The day had been warm earlier, sweltering. The rain had helped cool him, but the air was still too heavy for a bath. “Perhaps this evening,” he finally answered. “For now, I only require dry clothing.”
Lucian untied the wilted cravat and tossed it onto a chair then removed his suitcoat, waistcoat, and boots. His shirt was only damp, but his trousers were another matter. When his valet returned with a new set of clothing, Lucian only pulled on a dry set of trousers and shirt, leaving the rest. It may be storming, but the chamber remained uncomfortable in the heat after the windows had been closed to keep the rain from coming in. As he did not need to appear downstairs until suppertime, he crossed to the door leading to the sitting room and entered. He would relax and enjoy a brandy until he had to be fully clothed.
She feared storms,not that Eliza would ever admit such to anyone.
She had tried to read and even edit the manuscript pages, but the more the wind blew, the less she was able to concentrate and the reason she left the parlor and returned to her chamber. Here she would wait out the storm, away from the double glass doors that served as the entrance from the terrace to the parlor.
Though, being on a higher level in the house did not help calm her.
Then she remembered that when she had been in the sitting room attached to the sleeping chamber earlier, that there was a sideboard where brandy and wine were kept. Either of those would help calm her nerves and may even help her nap until the storm had passed.
With those intentions, she crossed her chamber, opened the door, and stepped into the sitting room only to be brought up short to find Lucian pouring a glass of brandy. His actions weren’t unusual, but she had not expected him to be there and the fact that he wore only shirtsleeves, opened at the neck, trousers and his feet were bare, was rather disconcerting, but not an unpleasant surprise.
Goodness! She’d always seen him set to rights. The closest she had ever come to him being disheveled was when she had fallen into the lake and he had removed his suitcoat. Hardly as revealing as what he now wore. His hair was even damp, which meant that he had likely been caught in the rain.
The width of his shoulders and strain against the linen was proof that he needed no padding in his clothing, and she was quite fascinated by the flatness of his stomach, the strength of his arms, muscles hard as he lifted something even as light as a bottle of brandy.
Eliza had always admired his form, but without the layers of clothing that gentlemen usually wore, she came to appreciate it all the more and her inner temperature rose.
Of course, it could be simply because the day had been hot, and so was the sitting room without the circulation of air from open windows.
He glanced up after he set down the decanter and met her eyes.
For a moment they simply stared at the other as an awkwardness at the intimacy of the situation rose. This was the sitting room between two sleeping chambers, not the parlor or drawing room below where a servant could walk in at any moment.
“Excuse me,” Eliza muttered as she started to back toward her chamber.
“Would you like a brandy or glass of wine?” he asked.
Eliza hesitated and bit her bottom lip. Should she remain?
Wasn’t she angry with him?
