Page 70 of Deceiving an Earl
He pulled away and before she could react his hand flew out and he slapped her so hard that her head whipped to the side. It happened so fast that she didn’t even cry out.
“Be mindful, Ellen. What you do to me I will return tenfold.”
He walked out, closing the door behind him. She could hear him speaking to her butler, and then he was gone.
Hand covering her cheek, she sank to the couch and let her tears fall.
Chapter Nineteen
Oliver read the announcement twice before his mind could absorb the implications. Unfortunately, he’d just taken a bite of toast and it dried up in his mouth until it felt like sand.
Surely the paper got it wrong. Ellen was not going to marry that twit, Needham. She couldn’t.
Could she?
He threw down his napkin and stood, determined to get to the heart of this…this…lie.
He was knocking on Ellen’s door before proper calling hours, but he didn’t care. On the way to her house all he could think about was that there had to be some mistake. She would laugh and say it was a misprint.
The butler let him in with a disapproving frown and showed him to the parlor.
She made him wait a long while, and the longer he waited the more anxious he became. He’d been so certain of his future. He’d been convinced that Ellen was meant to be his wife and they’d merely had to wait years to make it so. Had he been wrong? Had they only had that one opportunity and they’d lost it?
This all felt like a terrible déjà vu.
Ellen entered, looking pale and hesitant, wearing a gray gown that did not help the sallowness of her skin, and still she looked beautiful to him.
He tried to smile but it faltered as she drew closer.
“Why are you here, Oliver?”
“You know why.”
She looked away, and his heart plummeted. It was true. It wasn’t a misprint. She was marrying Needham.
“Why, Ellen?”
She sighed and drifted away from him to place her hand on the back of the couch.
“We suit,” she said.
“Bollocks. What about the ball? Outside? What we did together?”
Her face colored. “Oliver, please. This is unacceptable, and we cannot discuss it.”
“We damn well can discuss it. It was only days ago that you gave yourself to me, and now this?”
“I fear you think it meant more than it really did.”
“Iknowit meant more. I know it, Ellen.”
“You’re wrong, Oliver. There is nothing between us except friendship. There will always only be friendship.”
His heart was being ripped from his chest. He was angry and hurt.
“He’s beneath you.”
“He’s knighted. He’s a valued physician and professor. He’s a consult to the royal family. That’s hardly beneath me.”
