Page 33 of Her Daring Earl
“Eliza, I say, you are looking rather peaked,” her mother said, and when Eliza nodded, Fitz had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, although he decided he should best take pity on her and he stopped, finally allowing her peace. He thought she would be relieved, but her brow only tightened.
He had a fairly good idea why.
“You are right, Mother. I believe I am simply tired. I would not like to ruin the night, but I believe I should go lie down,” she said, fanning her face with one hand.
Fitz liked the sound of that.
“I should come with you,” her mother said, pushing back her chair.
“No!” Eliza exclaimed before softening her voice. “That is, I am fine. Thank you, Mother.”
“Very well,” her mother said. “If you do need me, though, please send someone for me.”
“Of course,” Eliza said, beginning to push out her chair. Brighton tried to stand, but the copious amount of port he had consumed slowed his actions, and Fitz was proud of himself for standing quickly enough to beat Brighton to help her.
“Allow me,” he said, pulling back her chair, surreptitiously running his fingers over the bare skin of her neck, noting her shiver.
“Good night, everyone,” she said, nodding at them as she walked out of the room.
Fitz waited but a moment before he tapped on his chin and said, “You know, I have a bottle of wine that I have been meaning to try for some time and this seems like the perfect occasion.”
The footman nodded at him and made to leave, but Fitz held up a hand. “I have it saved somewhere special. I shall go myself to find the exact bottle. Please excuse me for one moment,” he said, before walking out of the room as fast as he could, pleasedto find that Eliza hadn’t gone far. She turned around when he shut the door to the dining room.
“Fitz,” she hissed as she strode up to him. “You?—”
“Come with me,” he murmured, and she blinked up at him, her big blue eyes so wide that he nearly lost himself in their depths.
“Where?”
“Do you trust me?”
“No.”
He laughed softly. “Come with me anyway?”
“Fine,” she said warily, and he took her hand, leading her through the room to the other side so that no one could see them from the drawing room.
He led her through the breakfast room, into the kitchen and down a flight of stairs which she was sure were for the servants. Before rounding the corner at the bottom, he stopped her, placing a finger against her lips as he peeked around the corner to find that only the cook was present, her back to them. Fitz tilted his head and Eliza followed him, understanding the need for silence.
Fortunately, the door he was interested in was unlocked, likely due to its use during the dinner hour, and soon enough they entered the cool, dark room filled floor to ceiling with wine casks.
He appreciated the coolness of the wine cellar, for he had become rather heated upstairs. He turned to Eliza, barely able to see her in the dim light, and yet her features seemed to have been imprinted in his mind.
“What are we doing?” she whispered, and he hauled her toward him.
“I couldn’t wait any longer. The butler’s pantry held too many delicate items and our bedrooms were too far away,” he said, surprised by the desperation in his voice.
“Wait for what?”
“For you,” he said as he fiercely took her lips, claiming her as he had wanted to upstairs when Lord Brighton had looked upon her with such admiration.
He stepped her backward until she was pressed against the thick stone behind her, an oak table in the corner set up for wine tasting catching his eye. A lone flickering candle, obviously left by the butler who had been selecting their drinks for the evening, cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding a touch of mystery to the intimate setting.
Fitz's hands roamed over Eliza's curves with a hunger that had been building all evening. Her skin was silk beneath his fingertips, which longed for more.
Eliza's breath hitched beneath his lips as her fingers stroked his chest, over far more layers than he would have liked.
The scent of aged wine, mixed with the heady aroma of desire, surrounded them. Their kisses grew deeper, more urgent, each one a promise of their unfolding passion.
