Page 23 of An Earl Like You
“Thank you for carrying that,” she said after a while. They had continued talking as she cut, and she’d lost track of everything. The basket was now bursting with greenery and she reached to take it from him.
“It was my pleasure, Miss Cross.” He held it out, waiting patiently as she pushed her shawl out of the way and pulled off her gardening gloves. Eliza reached for the basket, but it was heavier than expected, and she almost dropped it. With a quick motion Lord Hastings righted it before the flowers could spill out, and in the process stepped very close to her.
“Sorry,” she said breathlessly as she hefted the basket in both hands.
He didn’t let go. Eliza looked up and her breath caught in her throat. He was looking at her, and his expression made her heart start to pound and her hands start to shake.
“Miss Cross,” he began. “I hope you don’t think me presumptuous, but... I am rather glad your father was delayed today.”
She couldn’t blink. She couldn’t move. He reached out and drew her shawl lightly over her shoulder from where it had drooped.
“Do you?” he asked softly.
“What?” Her voice sounded faint and dazed.
Hastings’s mouth curved, and his eyes crinkled, almost teasingly. “Think me presumptuous,” he whispered. “You can tell me.”
“No!” It burst out of her like a shout, but she had only enough breath for a whisper.
Something shifted in his eyes before he lowered his lashes. He took her hand in his and raised it. Eliza quaked inside as his lips brushed slowly, softly, over her knuckles. His hands, still gloved, were so large and strong around her limp fingers. His eyes flashed up for a moment, as if gauging her reaction, and then he turned her hand over and touched his lips to her wrist.
Eliza thought she might have whimpered out loud. She must have dozed off in the sun and was having another dream about him, one in which he looked at her with those obsidian-dark eyes and gave her the slow smile that made her stomach jump and leap, but no—this felt real. The handle of the flower basket was digging into her palm, her heart was pounding so hard she could almost hear it, and he was so close she could see the beginnings of stubble on his jaw, right near his beautiful mouth—
“Good day, Lord Hastings!”
Papa’s voice broke the spell. Eliza startled so badly the basket tipped and dropped half the flowers onto the path. Lord Hastings released her hand. Willy gave a happy bark and ran to meet Papa.
“I would apologize for keeping you waiting, sir, but I’ve been home this quarter hour or more.” Papa reached them and gave Eliza a fond smile.
“Have you been? Good Lord.” The earl smiled disarmingly. “I scarcely noticed the time passing. Miss Cross was kind enough to entertain me in the meantime.”
Papa chuckled. “I cannot fault you for forgetting me, then. She’s far better company than I!”
Hastings gave Eliza a warm glance. “I cannot disagree.”
Oh dear. She felt dazed and light-headed at the way he was looking at her. “It’s always a pleasure to see Lord Hastings. I don’t mind entertaining him in the slightest, unlike some of your partners, Papa.”
Her father gave a bark of laughter. “I don’t doubt it! Well, Hastings, shall we go inside? Down to the drudgery, eh?”
The earl gave Eliza another look, and she smiled back helplessly. He did not look enthused at the prospect. “Good day, Lord Hastings. Thank you for carrying the basket.”
“It was my pleasure, Miss Cross.” He bowed, and followed Papa into the house.
Eliza watched until they disappeared, then gave a little moan. She knelt and began gathering the flowers before Willy could trample them. Flowers for a wedding, in the church where she’d sat every Sunday since she was a child. Where a girl in love would pledge herself to a handsome fellow who looked at her with deep, dark eyes and smiled a crinkly little smile meant only for her. A bridegroom who looked very much like the Earl of Hastings in her mind.
There would be no stopping her imagination now.
Chapter 10
Hugh could feel the two separate strands of his life begin to converge.
One of them, the one where he had agreed to court Eliza Cross, was going more smoothly than expected. He still harbored a deep and abiding resentment of Edward Cross, but he felt more and more drawn to Eliza. Her father calculated everything down to the inch, and connived to have that inch measured in his favor, while Eliza cut flowers from her own garden so a maid’s sister would have a beautiful wedding. Her father schemed to have his daughter married to an aristocrat, while Eliza brought home a mutt she’d found under a bush. She was warm, generous, and honest, with a quiet but droll sense of humor, and he found himself looking forward to seeing her.
He could hardly believe she was Cross’s natural daughter. The more time Hugh spent with her, the less resemblance he could see. Perhaps Cross had foundheron the side of the road, and they were no relation at all. It gave Hugh some dark amusement to think so.
The other sphere of his life was not so easy to manage. As expected, people had noticed when he spent the evening in the Crosses’ box at the Theatre Royal; within a day his mother had heard it, and soon drew him aside. “I hear you were at the theater the other night.”
“I was. Edith recommended the opera, and I thought I would see what the fuss was.”
