“It’s not like that,” Elwood gritted through his teeth. He was about to lose his temper, which he knew would be the wrong thing to do. Most generally, his father was right about everything, but in this case, he had missed the mark. “Miss Newton is a writer.”
“Is she?” the marquess snorted, unimpressed. “There seems to be a lot of interest in that regard lately.”
Elwood clenched his fists. His father had never been a cruel or unkind parent, but he could be harsh if the situation warranted it. When it came to his eldest son, he had always found it necessary to make his opinions known. “If you were hoping for a marriage announcement, I’m not certain I could live up to the glorious expectations that you and Mother share.”
“There is nothing wrong with being devoted to a spouse,” his father countered firmly. “So long as she is of the proper lineage. Is this woman you’ve been consorting with the same ilk as that actress you were so besotted with some months ago? Or perhapsshe is like the mistress you recently dismissed?” He shook his head. “Some days I fear that the title was wasted on a wastrel like you.”
Elwood refused to let words do much damage, but they hurt nevertheless. “Perhaps it was.”
The air crackled with unbridled anger, and although Elwood and his father had never come to blows, he wondered if that day had finally arrived.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, but if I might interject?—"
Elwood and his father both swiveled their heads to the front door where Meliah stood silhouetted in the afternoon light.
“This is a family matter,” his father thundered. “It doesn’t concern you.”
For an instant, Elwood’s fists clenched. Very few people stood up to his father. He was an imposing man with his proud stature and salt-and-pepper hair, but he wasn’t going to allow Meliah to absorb the brunt of his anger when it was directed athim.
Meliah walked forward as if she hadn’t just been ordered to stand down, and offered a slight curtsy. “Forgive the intrusion, Lord Traverson, but Lord Belmont speaks the truth. I am a writer and I was here to write an article about him.”
“Were you now?” the marquess muttered, unimpressed.
She cleared her throat, and he narrowed his gaze on her. Elwood tensed, prepared to step in if necessary. “You shall be pleased to note that Lord Belmont has been nothing but considerate during my time here.”
“I’m sure of it.” His father glared at him.
“You should also know that the villagers have nothing but the highest respect for him and your family.” She took a deep breath. “When I arrived here, I was under the same misconception that you are now. Granted, the earl might have sowed a few wild oats before now, but I am confident that he is more than capableof making you proud. He came here with the sole purpose of abiding by your wishes. He met with the land steward just yesterday, and I believe he received a favorable report regarding the state of the modest vineyard on the grounds. And might I say they are some of the finest grapes I have ever consumed.” She paused to brush at her gown and pat her hair, and Elwood found his father looking at her quite curiously, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the lady.
Elwood thought she was magnificent. With a few, carefully chosen words, she had managed to diffuse an otherwise, heated encounter.
“Now, if you will both excuse me, I was just about to pack my belongings and return to London. I have been away long enough, and I shouldn’t wish to cause any further undue speculation.”
With another curtsy, she turned and headed up the stairs.
Meliah could feelboth pairs of eyes boring into her as she took her leave. She was proud of herself for adopting such a calm demeanor when her heart had been about to pound out of her chest. Her mother would have been horrified to know that she’d dared to speak so boldly to a high-ranking member of the peerage, but she couldn’t just stand by and watch him berate Elwood in such a manner. For all of his faults, he had become particularly special to her.
She entered her chamber and shut the door, releasing a deep breath as she leaned against the solid oak. Closing her eyes, she told herself not to cry. Before she’d made her presence known, she had overheard what Elwood had said about his parents and living up to their expectations. His mocking tone further proved that he might never be capable of anything more than abrief affair with anyone. He claimed she was different, and yet, he spoke of love and happiness as if it was distasteful in the extreme.
Then again, it wasn’t as if anything more would come of their association. The difference in their stations would never be fully overlooked by society—by anyone.
She opened her eyes and pushed away from the door, determined to leave before she was incapable of doing so and truly ruining her life beyond repair.
Glancing about the room, she made to gather a few things, but then she remembered that none of the items there were hers. Lord Belmont might have procured some of the items from the village for her use, but she considered them a temporary loan. As much as she hated the thought of donning that dreaded pink dress, she knew it was the only thing she could truly leave with, and even that wasn’thers. She had deluded herself for too long. It was time to remind herself who she was—and where she belonged.
A soft knock came at the door and she prepared herself to see the earl on the other side. When she opened it, she swallowed past the lump of regret in her throat. She realized how much she would miss him. She let her eyes roam over his face, over every hard line and virile part of him, to hold close to her heart and lock away in her memory.
He seemed to be doing the same, and when he caught sight of the dress she was wearing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can see you are determined to go.”
“I told you I was,” she returned softly.
He seemed to be waging a war within himself, until he finally shut the door behind him and dragged her into his arms. “What can I do to convince you to stay? Just one more day?”
Meliah’s emotions were starting to crack. She had to be strong, but he was making it almost impossible to resist him. “Ican’t stay here and be the sort of woman that your father accused me of being.”
“Don’t youdarecompare yourself?—”
“If I stayed,” she smoothly interjected. “There would be no difference.”
