Elwood had thought both, although he knew no one would take his opinion into consideration, especially after he’d been targeted as “Mr. October.” To hear Miss Newton speak so plainly about the authoress, he had to believe that his original assumption that she was “The Belle” was no longer in question. It had been a short-lived theory with no actual proof as it was.
“I intend to make my way into the local village tomorrow,” she added. “Mrs. Salisbury has kindly offered to come around in her wagon and?—”
“Absolutely not.” Elwood hadn’t meant to make his voice sound so harsh, but neither did he like the idea of her out on her own without his protection. He took one look at her mutinous expression and realized that he had to explain himself or else he would have an irate female on his hands. “What I meant to say was that I am more than capable of taking you into the village.”
“While I do appreciate that, my lord, I’m sure you have things to do.”
He snorted. “At the moment, the only thing I have at my disposal is boredom. Truly, you would be doing me a service by allowing me out of this prison for a brief time.”
She lifted a brow and finally relaxed her posture. “Very well. I can’t fault you for wanting to return to some semblance of society, even if it isn’t the crowd you are used to entertaining.”
His eyes held hers as he murmured, “On the contrary, I’m finding this secluded existence more appealing with each passing day.”
Meliah wasgrateful that they were interrupted by a middle-aged woman with gray hair and a younger man with curly, dark brown hair. They were each carrying a silver serving tray and set them down in front of the earl and herself.
As the lids were removed, Lord Belmont gave a sigh of appreciation. “It smells heavenly.”
“It’s your favorite, my lord,” the older woman said with a wink at Meliah. “Lobster bisque. For the main course, I chose haddock in a butter crème sauce with a side of boiled potatoes and mashed peas and apple crumble for dessert.”
The earl put a hand over his heart. “You are irreplaceable, Mrs. Jacques.” He nodded in acknowledgment to her companion who was acting as the footman. “Mr. Hanovan. May I present my guest of honor, Miss Meliah Newton?”
Meliah inclined her head as she savored the scents of the fare laid out before them. Her stomach was starting to growl just thinking of the delights awaiting her. “Thank you for such a lovely fare.”
“You are quite welcome. Any friend of Lord Belmont’s is a friend to me.” She smiled kindly and as she took her leave, Meliah noted that Mr. Hanovan lingered a moment longer as he regarded her. She had to admit that he seemed to be a nice man, and not much older than her, if she had to hazard a guess. But he was sadly lacking the one thing that drew her to the earl time and again, and it had nothing to do with a title or wealth, but rather the devastating attraction that stole her breath and weakened her knees.
She picked up her spoon after her host had done the same and blew lightly on the steaming soup. The moment it touched her tongue, she moaned lightly in delight. “It’s delicious.”
“Hmm,” her companion said around another mouthful. “Mrs. Jacques is truly an artist in the kitchen. When my father decided to part with this hunting box, she started her own eating house in the village. I have known people who came all the way from the heart of London to sample her fare, myself included. Thankfully, I had only to ask her to drop by on occasion when I arrived.”
Meliah shot him a coy glance above her spoon. “It does seem that you have made quite an impression on the local assembly. I’m looking forward to learning more about this side of Lord Belmont.”
He gave a lopsided smile that made her look away, lest she was pulled even further into his spell. Then again, perhaps it wouldn’t be so terrible to lose herself with him. “Don’t get too excited. The villagers are wont to embellish upon my good nature.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she countered. “They seem quite enamored of you.”
He sighed dramatically and flicked his eyes at her bosom, allowing them to slowly move upward to meet her gaze once more. “Would that the same sentiment could be told of you.”
She laughed lightly and took another sip of her wine for courage. “I didn’t say I wasn’t attracted to you, my lord. I just see the wisdom in not giving in to my reaction to you. A lady in my situation has to be cautious.”
He sat back in his chair and folded his hands across his midsection. For the moment, the unfinished meal before him was forgotten. “What if I offered a proposition that would benefit us both?”
Again, her focus was wary. “And what is that?”
“Become my mistress. I vow that I will be generous, and when the time comes for us to part ways, you won’t have to toil as a weaver. You could live the independent life that you yearn for yourself.” He tilted his head to the side. “What do you say, Miss Newton?”
CHAPTER 10
Elwood held his breath. He prayed that he hadn’t overstepped and caused her to refute any progress that his servants might have made on his behalf, but neither was he appreciative of the thought that she would soon be leaving him. For someone he’d only known for a handful of days, he admired her integrity, and applauded her passions. He merely wished that they were shared in his bed, and not just on the paper she so desperately wanted published.
She cleared her throat and gently wiped her lips with her serviette. “While I admit that is a wonderful offer for a woman in my unfortunate position, I daresay I have dreams that I want to fulfill first. Until that is done, I can’t commit to anything more than a brief acquaintance.”
His heart sank, but he allowed a smile to spread across his face so she couldn’t readily read his disappointment. “I respect your dedication to your craft, Miss Newton. Just know that the offer stands if you change your mind.”
She inclined her head and when she pushed back her chair, he was honor bound to stand when she did. “This was a lovely dinner and conversation, my lord, but the hour grows late and if I wish to accomplish anything in the morning, I should retire.”
He glanced at the clock on the mantel. “It’s only half past nine.”
“That may be true,” she concurred. “But I am not used to the same town hours that you are. When you work for a living, you are taught the merits of rising with the sun.”
