Page 59 of Deceiving an Earl
Ashland sat back, clearly shocked, and Oliver felt bad. A gentleman never bragged about such intimate things, but this was Ashland, and Oliver knew Ashland would take this secret to the grave. Still…he shouldn’t have said anything.
“She’s the woman for me, Ashland. I knew it back then but was too young to know how to stop her marriage to Fieldhurst. I won’t let her slip through my fingers again.”
“Maybe you should give it more time. Court her correctly.”
There was some sense to what Ashland was saying. Seventeen years ago they had started out as friends and ended as doomed lovers. This time they started out as lovers and he wanted to become her friend. He wanted to learn more about Ellen, all the things he’d missed in the intervening years.
He slapped his leg. “I will court her properly.”
Chapter Sixteen
Very early on the morning that Oliver planned to speak to Ellen’s father, Oliver’s father woke him early. “We’re going to the estate to attend to some business.”
Oliver’s mind was fuzzy. He’d floated home early in the morning from the ball on thoughts of life with Ellen. He would take her on a tour of the continent after their marriage. Surely, his father would not begrudge him time away from his lessons for a wedding trip.
And then he and Ellen would settle into their own life. He’d considered looking at townhomes that he could purchase. He wanted a home all his own to bring his wife to.
And then children.
The thought made him nervous. He didn’t feel ready to be a father, but together with Ellen, he knew he could do it.
Now he was looking at his father through blurry eyes. “The estate?” But that was hours away, and not a trip one could take in one day.
“Yes. You’ve seen the books from the estate, but you need to see firsthand what we’ve been discussing. And you need to meet some of our tenants.”
“But…” He rubbed his gritty eyes. But he was supposed to talk to Ellen’s father today. He was supposed to begin marriage negotiations.
“But nothing. Hurry now, we need to get an early start.”
Oliver threw the covers back and jumped up. “When will we return?”
“I thought we’d spend about four days there, maybe more. It depends. We can’t have the servants open the house for us for just one day.”
Ordinarily Oliver would have looked forward to such a trip. He loved their country estate, the seat of the earldom. Some of his best memories were from his childhood spent there. But not today.
“Get dressed. Hurry.” And his father was out the door and striding down the hall before Oliver could formulate a response.
Quickly he penned a note to send to Ellen, letting her know that he was going out of town and that when he returned he would proceed with their plans. He tasked his valet with getting the note to her, because he trusted no one else.
And then he left with his father.
…
“You’re very quiet tonight.”
Ellen and William were attending a small dinner party given by one of his colleagues, but Ellen’s mind wasn’t focused on the get-together at the moment.
She’d wanted to cancel with William but knew that it would look bad in front of his colleagues, so she’d dressed and pretended the best she could, but apparently she had not pretended well enough.
“I’m just tired,” she said.
William’s expression closed up. There were times she thought she knew William, and there were times he seemed almost a stranger. She’d been drawn to his good looks—superficial of her, she knew—and had been intrigued by the fact that he was a well-respected surgeon. She liked surrounding herself with people of different backgrounds, and she’d been drawn to him only to find that he was entirely captivating. He made everyone feel at ease, and he was knowledgeable about everything—politics, music, the arts, as well as medicine. She’d been surprised to learn that he’d played the violin since he was a small boy.
And then there were times that he was moody and unresponsive and demanded certain things of her. For instance, he wanted her to be witty and funny at all times, whether she felt like it or not. He wanted her at his side during these interminable dinner parties that she found completely boring. Sometimes she detected a dark side to him but brushed it off as weariness or preoccupation with a certain patient. His services were much in demand, and he lectured nearly every day. And then there was the royal family. He always had to be available in case he was needed at the palace.
“No one likes a dull companion,” he said softly to her, but there was an edge to his voice that shocked her. She looked at him to see if he were jesting. But he wasn’t. His expression was entirely serious, his eyes cold, his mouth pinched in disapproval.
“I’m sorry if you think me dull tonight,” she snapped. “It’s not as if the dinner conversation is stimulating.” In fact, the men had spoken of their work, their studies into the human body and diseases. It was unacceptable dinner conversation, but the other wives always said that was what happened when you married a doctor.
