Page 9 of Stolen by My Knave
“It’s not a difficulty at all,” Whitewood said. “It’s my pleasure. Perhaps you’ll give me the pleasure of your company as well.”
Elizabeth wanted to agree, but didn’t want to seem too eager. What would he think of her if she fell willingly into his arms? She was being a ninny—after all, it hadn’t been her who’d gained his attention. He’d happily continue ignoring her presence if not for Lady Clifton. What would it hurt to spend time in his company? They were in a room full of chaperones. No one would think it was untoward for them to have a conversation.
“That would be lovely,” Elizabeth agreed and curtsied. “Please lead the way, Your Grace.”
Elizabeth lifted her arm for him to grab ahold of, and Whitewood took it in his. She’d thought she was warm before, but her entire body went up in flames at his touch. If it was acceptable to fan herself she’d already have flipped one open to attempt to cool herself. He led her across the room to the refreshment table. He filled a glass with lemonade and presented it to her. She lifted it to her lips and swallowed the sweetly bitter liquid. It was warm, and not as refreshing as she’d like, but it gave her something to do. For the first time in her life she didn’t know what to say. The lemonade was horrid and she didn’t want to drink more, but took another sip anyway.
“I’ve been reading about the chit in the story you recommended.”
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow and almost choked on the lemonade she’d been in the midst of swallowing. Elizabeth cleared her throat and asked, “Which one did you decide to begin first?” She set her glass down on the table. It wasn’t worth drinking.
A slow smile formed on his beautiful face. “I wonder, my lady, if you suggestedPride and Prejudicebecause you feel akin to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
She never saw it as such. Her? Like the Elizabeth fromPride and Prejudice? That was ridiculous. All they shared was the same first name. “Of course not,” she replied. “I’ve nothing in common with her.”
“No?” It was his turn to raise a brow. “You’re not in want of a husband of means?”
Did the man have no tact? How dare he suggest she was so mercenary? “I assure you, Your Grace, I have no desire to marry a man for what he can provide me in the traditional sense. I’ll not bind myself in matrimony unless I can be guaranteed love is the greatest part of the bargain.”
Whitewood shook his head and stared off as if deep in thought. “Love isn’t usually a factor in marriage. It’s nice that you think it is possible.”
“For some it is,” she said. “I’ll settle for nothing less.”
“You may want to reconsider.” His lips formed a hard line. “Marriage is an agreement for most men that does not include love.” Whitewood turned and glanced down at her. “Do you want to marry, or is this love nonsense and excuse to avoid it?”
Did she? At one point, she’d desired it more than anything. Until, after several seasons, she’d been left with the notion love wasn’t so easy to come by. Most of the debutantes who’d launched the same year had already married and had children of their own. Elizabeth was teetering on the edge of spinsterhood. She remained firm in her belief marriage was something only to be considered if her husband loved her as much as she loved him. Her parents had the best of marriages, and she hoped to have what they did. With examples such as theirs, how could she settle for anything less?
“It’s becoming clear that what I desire isn’t always meant to be,” Elizabeth said calmly. She had a lot of hopes and dreams. Perhaps one day she’d see them all, but if she didn’t she still had a good life. Whatever her fate may be, she’d acknowledge it and move forward. “Marriage may not be part of my future, and I’ve learned to accept that. Sometimes your soul mate is born in a different time. If you’re lucky enough, they manage to find you—otherwise, it is a lonely existence, but preferable to a loveless marriage.”
He tilted his head and studied her. What could he be thinking? Had she given away something she shouldn’t have? She often spoke before her mind stopped her from saying too much. He’d think her a ninny for sure. Who spoke of soul mates being born in different times? However would she explain that nonsense? It may be true, but most people wouldn’t understand that.
“You believe in soul mates?”
Thatwas what he’d taken from that pronouncement? She breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, she was afraid he’d ask about something else entirely. What if he’d interrogated her about soul mates being born in different times? Could she answer those questions? Those were best left to a different day. She could handle the soul mate part.
“Yes, I do,” she replied. “I believe there is one person out there meant for me. My parents are a shining example of how wonderful a relationship can be. They were meant for each other and their story inspires me to seek the one man who is my everything and vice versa.”
Lord Whitewood was quiet for several moments. Was her explanation too much? She didn’t think her desires were too much to ask for. There was no other reason for her to tie herself to a man. It was love or nothing.
“So,” he began. “If you find this paragon of love and he’s penniless, you’ll still marry him?” His voice held an edge of cynicism. So he didn’t believe love was possible? A lot of people didn’t, but Elizabeth wouldn’t let that deter her.
She smiled warmly. “I’ll never want for anything. My father has seen to that.”
“Spoiled, are you?” he asked mockingly.
Elizabeth didn’t think so, but she supposed in a sense she was. She’d always had everything she needed. Her parents took measure to ensure it. “I’ve had a privileged life. I don’t make any excuses for it. I am who I was raised to be. That life has given me the opportunities others are denied. I’m sorry for their misfortunes, but I won’t apologize for the benefits mine has bestowed upon me.”
“I must say, Lady Elizabeth, you’re not at all like most of the ladies I’ve encountered over the years. You’re quite unique.”
She hoped that was a good thing. Different was not always better. “I try to remain true to myself. My mother has always said a woman shouldn’t be defined by her gender. She’s quite brilliant.”
His lips twitched. “Are you sure you’re not prejudiced in her favor?”
Elizabeth thought about that for a moment. She did adore both her parents, but she didn’t think she was blind to their faults. “Not at all. My mother would be the first to tell you she’s not perfect. That doesn’t negate her innate intelligence.”
She didn’t mention how her mother came from the twenty-first century and had more education than any other female of her acquaintance. She’d been trained as a doctor and was a fine surgeon at a prominent hospital before she fell through a time hole and the Duke of Weston, her father, found her on the beach near their home. Not once had her mother wished she could return to her time and explore her career. She’d instead chosen to use her knowledge and skills for the good of the family. Her medical expertise had saved her father’s life at least once when he’d been shot.
“I’m not debating that fact with you,” he replied. “How about a test of your own skills and wit.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Elizabeth was intrigued. Plus, it might give her an excuse to leave the room. She hated socializing and wanted to learn more about him. It had become hot and stuffy while they conversed—which couldn’t all be attributed to her reaction to the duke. She tilted her head up and met Lord Whitewood’s gaze.
“The one game guaranteed to keep us both completely enthralled and at our best.”
She scrunched her nose upward. Did such a game exist? It appeared as if she was about to find out. “Lead the way, Your Grace. I admit my interest is piqued.”
His lips tilted upward and he held his arm out for her. She looped her arm into his and deftly escorted her from the room. Elizabeth should stop a moment and question the intelligence of leaving with him. He must think her quite the idiot for willingly following him into a fox’s den, but she couldn’t stop herself from it if she tried.
