While he was out today she could make one more pass through the books, see if she couldn’t uncover the key to removing this infernal bracelet. She’d always been particularly good at research and puzzles. There was no reason why she couldn’t find the necessary information. And with him gone, she should be able to focus completely on the task at hand instead of every inch of his muscular frame.
Part of her enjoyed the physical attention she was able to elicit from Fielding. It made her feel very much the complete woman, attractive and desirable. Esme opened the first book and skimmed the pages. She’d be a liar if she said she was completely ready to remove the cursed bracelet.
Yet, she knew men did not choose women with minds of their own or opinions. They wanted pretty little things who sat by their sides and nodded in agreement. Her mother had warned her of that, had told her repeatedly she needed to learn when to hold her tongue.
Esme had tried for a while, gone to balls and soirees and smiled prettily and tried to be demure, but in the end she just couldn’t sit by and say nothing. Other women seemed to do it so easily. Perhaps they simply had nothing to say. But Esme was educated, well read, and she had plenty of opinions. Why could she not share them as men did?
The bracelet had stirred feelings she’d thought long buried. As long as it was on her wrist, she was burdened with the desire to have those things she knew she could not have—a husband and a family. With the bracelet gone, she would be able to forget about those longings and get back to her studies.
In the meantime, she would try her best to keep her hands to herself and off Fielding. A task she knew would be as challenging as finding a way to rid herself of the curse.
CHAPTER 11
Fielding rang the doorbell, then mentally rehearsed what he would say. He might not be active in proper society, but he’d been raised in it and knew how things worked. These people needed to know that he would not be called upon to marry Esme, regardless of the situation.
For a moment he thought about turning around and leaving, but the door opened before he could turn away.
“Yes?” the butler asked.
Fielding handed over his card. “I’m here to see Lord and Lady Weatherby.”
The butler nodded and held the door open. “This way, please.”
As he followed the man, Fielding wondered what Esme would think about him calling on her family. No doubt it would displease her, but her opinion was not of consequence in this matter. This was something that had to be done. Esme hadn’t exaggerated when she said her sister had married into wealth. The place positively gleamed with money. Every surface shone brightly, and maids were around every corner, polishing and dusting anything that didn’t move.
“A Lord Eldon to see you both,” the butler said, then with a swipe of his arm, he waved Fielding forward.
The Weatherbys sat in a large parlor decorated in soft blues and greens. Lady Weatherby was perched daintily on a gilded chair and doing needlepoint. Her husband relaxed on the blue sofa with a newspaper in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. Together they had seemingly perfected the life of the English aristocracy.
The couple rose in unison. Though she tried to hide it with a smile, the woman’s face perfectly portrayed her confusion. She set her needlepoint aside, then came forward despite not knowing Fielding. The gracious hostess. “My lord, how nice of you to visit,” she said.
Her husband moved to stand next to her, newspaper still dangling from his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said. “I am Raymond Griffin, and this is my wife.” His expertly tied cravat and tailored jacket did nothing to hide the man’s large stomach. Perhaps he had been handsome at one time, but now Lord Weatherby was rotund with thinning reddish-blond hair.
“No, we haven’t. My name is Fielding Grey, and I’ve come to speak with you about Esme,” he said. Fielding steeled himself for an argument, prepared his words to plead his case.
Elena fell back into her chair. “Oh, she will be the death of me.” Sitting on the small occasional table next to her were two oval-shaped frames with photographs of young girls. One of them in particular looked very much like Esme, with bright eyes that shone with intelligence and an impish grin.
Fielding could see the slight resemblance between Esme and her sister. Though Elena was fair of hair and slighter of frame, their eyes were similar. The older sister also boasted more grace; even if she obviously had a flare for drama, her fall into the chair was fluid and lithe.
“What has the girl done this time?” Raymond asked. A beam of sunlight hit the man’s bald spot, making his nearly bare scalp glisten.
“The girl, as you both must know, is now a woman,” Fielding corrected. “And she has done nothing. She was, however, abducted recently. Right out of her home.” When Elena gasped, Fielding sat down next to the woman. Finally, one of them had shown a semblance of concern. “She is safe now. I was fortunate enough to come across her and able to bring her back to London. Aside from a minor injury, she was unharmed.”
Elena looked first at her husband, then merely nodded to Fielding.
“I wanted to inform you both of her current situation. I cannot tell you her location, as she is still at risk of danger, but suffice it to say she and Thea are well cared for. And her reputation remains intact.” For the time being, although he wasn’t certain he could promise it would remain so. He’d already seen her in her nightclothes, with fabric so thin it had left little to his imagination. And he’d kissed her, caressed her, wanted her.
“She is prone to scandal.” Raymond noisily folded his newspaper and set it on the occasional table beside him. “I’m afraid she’s been nothing but trouble.”
Elena and Raymond exchanged looks before Elena spoke. “Lord Eldon, I don’t know what Esme has told you, but she is not exactly a member of our family,” Elena said. “That is to say, we do not have much contact—”
Raymond put his hand on Elena’s shoulder to quiet her.
“Esme made her choice years ago, and she now reaps the spoils of her actions. We are, however, very sorry for any inconvenience she might have caused you.”
“Esme has always been”—Elena paused as if searching for the appropriate word—“challenging.”
“Headstrong,” Raymond provided.
