Chapter One
“I’vedecidedtotakea lover,” Lady Eleanor Penhurst said.
Lord Benedict Stapleton, her dearest friend, choked on his tea.Cobalt eyes slightly wild, he finally managed, “Pardon?”
Hoping her smile hid the roil of her stomach, Eleanor repeated, “I have decided to take a lover.”
Carefully placing down his cup, Benedict pinned her with a stare.“But you are unmarried.You have neverbeenmarried.”
“Hence the taking of a lover.”Lifting her chin, she pretended a bravado she didn’t feel.Perhaps baldly had not been the best way to tell her dearest friend of her plan.
The tick of the mantle clock echoed through her private drawing room.As she had no siblings and Benedict had too many, they always met here at townhouse—if they were to meet at Colgrove House, they would never be afforded any privacy.Benedict’s nieces and nephews would invade their visit and demand their uncle’s attention.Lady C would insist on chaperoning them, even though they’d known each other practically their whole lives and it was absurd to think a woman of her age even required a chaperone.Benedict’s brother, the Earl of Colgrove himself, might even decide he had some lecture or instruction to bestow upon his youngest brother.No, it was much preferred to see each other at her townhouse, where the only interruption would be the servants delivering their pastries.
She and Benedict had been friends for almost as long as she could remember.Their families’ country estates bordered one another, and some of her first memories were of him, of running and playing and climbing trees, inviting him into her treehouse and stealing his birthday cake from his plate.Over the years, their friendship had only deepened as they’d grown, until it was she could not imagine her life without him.
Now, he scowled.“Don’t be flippant, El.What do you mean, you are taking a lover?”
Surrounded by pale green furnishings, Benedict should look ridiculous, but he was so settled in his skin that even in the middle of such feminine décor he remained comfortable.She envied that sometimes.“I do not know how else I can say it, Benedict.I would have thought I was fairly clear.”
“Clear.Bloody hell.”Usually, his eyes were cerulean-blue, so piercing she’d heard many a lady sigh when they were turned upon her and much more dramatic than her own muddy hazel, however those sigh-worthy eyes were now stormy beneath the strong slash of his dark brows.He had shaved that morning, she was certain, but the faint stubble darkening his jaw belied that fact.Sometimes she teased him about his strong nose, that as it was so large, he had no choice but stick it in others’ business, but privately she believed it rather majestic and not at all unattractive.
Usually he lounged on the chaise longue, his long legs sprawled and his broad shoulders loose, but her pronouncement had made him tense.Though he fairly inhaled the pastries and sweets her cook prepared, his stomach remained annoyingly flat, which he claimed was the result of the prodigious amount of exercise he undertook.She, however, had her doubts about the frequency of such exercise, but she could not refute that his form was lithe and powerful, and that invariably at least twice a season a lady swooned over him which only led to his big, fat head growing bigger and fatter.
Her gaze wandered to where his fingers dug into the flesh above his knees.His hands were broad and well-shaped, his fingers long and elegant.He hated gloves so he always removed them as soon as he sat, discarding them to wherever they landed.More often than not after he’d left she’d find his discarded gloves, forgotten amongst the cushions.
His lips were twisted into displeasure, forming a thin line.Usually, his lips were full, the lower plush and soft, the upper accented with a small bow.Others had sighed over his mouth, wondering what it would be like to kiss him, if they would be as soft as they appeared, or would his kiss be firm and commanding, his strong fingers cupping her head as he held her still for—
“El?”he prompted.
Good lord, what onearthwas she thinking?Recovering herself, she said, “I am thirty years of age—”
“You are barely thirty,” he interrupted.“Your birthday was not even a week ago.”
Well, yes, and well he knew it as her birthday was barely a month before his.Why, only a few days ago he had colluded with her servants to transform her ballroom into a fae wonderland, complete with performers dressed as fairies and a firework display at the conclusion.How he had managed it without her knowledge she had no clue, but it certainly meant she had her work cut out for her when his thirtieth birthday arrived in just over a month.“That doesn’t change the fact I am firmly on the shelf.”
“Only because you have placed yourself there,” he retorted.
Ugh, this was the problem with knowing one another so well—he knew far too much about her.She had absolutely no intention of ever marrying, and thanks to the trust fund her grandfather had left her, she would never have to.“Yes, well, finally society agrees with me,” she said.“I am now a spinster with no prospects and numerous seasons behind me, safely relegated to the sidelines.No one has much care for my reputation, the fortune hunters have given up—”
He scowled.“They better have.I have no compunction about dissuading them forcefully.Again.”
Her lips twitched.It was nothing she and Benedict had not done before, and as such fortune hunters knew better than try to win her hand.“Even Lady C’s attempts have lessened,” she continued.“Thank goodness Amanda is now on the marriage mart.”
Eleanor’s parents had died when she was still a girl, while Benedict’s mother had died with his birth and his father when he was eight.When they were ten, Benedict’s eldest brother, the Earl of Colgrove, had married and his new bride had become as a mother to Benedict and, by virtue of their friendship, to Eleanor as well.Lady C had bandaged scraped knees, scolded Benedict when he’d played a too-mean prank on Eleanor, done the same when Eleanor had whacked a pinecone into him with a croquet mallet.
Lady C had guided Eleanor through her debut, and then through each excruciating season after.It had been wretched pretending she wanted nothing more than a husband, and she wasn’t altogether certain Lady C had ever been convinced.Thank goodness with her sixth season, Lady C had given up and turned her attention to preparing her eldest daughter for her debut.
“Now that I have entered the blessed space of irrelevance, I may sit with the chaperones and the mamas and live my life unburdened by a husband,” she said.“However, just because I have no wish to hand my body and my fortune over to a man should not preclude me from experiencing sensual pleasure.Indeed, with careful thought and planning, there is no reason I should not.”
Frowning, he said suspiciously, “Are you employing logic to put forward this argument?”
“If you didn’t wish me to use logic, you should not have asked me to help you with your studies,” she said loftily.
“I did not think it would come back to bite me.”He rubbed his temple.“My head begins to ache.”
“Do you wish more tea?Sometimes that assists me when I feel poorly.”
“No, I do not want tea.Tea is not strong enough.”He exhaled.“What of your reputation?”
