Page 62 of Deceiving an Earl
“Besides, you don’t need a husband,” he said. “You’ve told me so, many times.”
This was true. Ellen enjoyed her independence. Arthur had left them well off, so she was not obligated to marry again to secure hers and Philip’s future. If Philip married someday she would become the dowager countess, and there were some privileges that came with the title.
“I’m off,” he said with a cheeky grin.
Ellen moved out of the way and Philip left, off to do whatever it was he did with his friends this late at night. Part of her said to go after him, to tell him he must stay in, but she didn’t have the wherewithal, and that made her feel like a horrible mother.
Their future might be secure now but, if Philip didn’t change his ways, things might drastically change.
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning Oliver called on Ellen. More precisely, he was calling on Philip, but he also wanted to see Ellen.
He woke with a hammering head, but his valet made him drink a concoction of tomato juice and alcohol. It was horrid, but it always cleared the sticky cobwebs from his mind. And while he’d been dressing he realized that he’d quite fallen down on the education of little Lord Fieldhurst. Today he would rectify that, and an added bonus was that he would see Ellen.
He was shown into her parlor to wait for her.
When she arrived, this time in a light blue day dress, there were circles under her eyes and her lips were pinched. She looked tired. Weary.
“Ellen.”
“Oliver.”
They both sat, he in a straight back, padded chair, she on a couch that sat two people. She made a production of spreading her skirts out, not meeting his gaze. Finally she looked up at him, but her eyes wandered to a point over his left shoulder.
“How are you, Ellen?”
“I’m well, thank you.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
She finally met his gaze. “I know what you mean. It’s not appropriate to talk about…that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not. It just isn’t. It’s not gentlemanly of you.”
“It’s not gentlemanly of me to care? To wonder if you are feeling well? I think it would be far more ungentlemanly of me to ignore what happened.”
“I wish you would.” She raised her chin, and he was quite surprised to find that she had hurt him.
“I’ll never forget that night,” he said softly.
“I’m asking you not to talk about it.”
“I can’t comply with that request.”
She huffed out a breath.
“The other night meant something to me,” he said. “And I know it meant something to you, too. I know you too well, Ellen. Even after all this time, I still know you.”
“You don’t understand,” she said. “Itcan’tmean anything.”
“Why? Like I said before, there are no more obstacles in our path. No parents to satisfy. No Arthur. And the passion is still there. You can’t deny that.”
“Please, stop,” she whispered.
Oliver scooted to the edge of his chair and leaned forward. “Whatever is between us isn’t over. I won’t let it end like last time. This time will be different.”
