Page 42 of An Earl Like You
“Send her—” Hugh stared incredulously. “Imarriedher. I cannot send her back.”
Livingston waved one hand. “Find a way. I’d plead fraud if I were you. If you think Cross didn’t defraud you, that only means you haven’t realized how just yet. Repudiate her and send her back. I’ll not have my son and heir associated with that man in any way.”
The viscount’s meaning began to sink in. Hugh turned to Benwick, looking for an ally this time. “Benwick, this is madness. You told me you love Edith. She loves you! Surely you aren’t going to be so fastidious as to spoil that.”
Benwick didn’t look happy, but he nodded resolutely. “I cannot marry a woman with such connections.”
Hugh was stunned. Shocked. Horrified. “You’re breaking the engagement,” he said in disbelief. “You’re jilting my sister.”
Benwick flinched at the word, but his father nodded, his face fiery with spite. “He can’t jilt her. You never signed a settlement—wouldn’t even discuss one! There’s no engagement to break.”
Still staring at Benwick, Hugh clenched his jaw. “You’re jilting my sister,” he repeated. “Overmymarriage.”
The young man hesitated. His father growled. Benwick swallowed and said firmly, “I must.”
Hugh left. He walked in a daze, shaken to the core by the meeting. What was he to tell Edith? No—he couldn’t even think of it. Her heart would be broken. Her despair would be terrible. She would hate him forever.
Surely Benwick would reconsider. Livingston would relent, once his temper cooled. Surely on the morrow they would remember the ten thousand pound dowry; the attorney had been quite clear about the terms of the settlement Hugh was offering. Surely...
What if they didn’t?
He should take Eliza into society at once, so everyone could see how unlike her father she was. Perhaps her friends would help her acquire a little confidence and polish, even throw a ball for her. Nothing improved a woman’s status like a glittering ball in the home of a sponsoring member of thehaut ton. A ball given by the Duchess of Ware would surely lend Eliza some panache... But then Hugh remembered that the duchess had been a regular at the Vega Club until very recently. She was hardly part of thetonherself yet. And Lady Georgiana was an unmarried lady still, incapable of steering society’s opinion.
He couldn’t bear to go home. At Piccadilly he turned east, and found himself walking up the steps of the Vega Club. It was as good a place as any to ponder his troubles. Hugh rarely drank, but tonight he found a seat in the back of the salon and ordered a bottle of wine. Tonight was a good night to get drunk.
By the time he staggered home, the moon was high in the sky. Hugh groped in his pockets for his latchkey, but it wasn’t there; he had not planned to stay out late. He knocked at the door, and blessedly his mother had set a footman to wait for him as usual.
“Shall I send for Mr. Bernard?” asked the servant as he bolted the door.
Hugh waved one hand. “No.” There was no need to wake his valet. He trudged up the stairs, yanking at his neckcloth. Eliza must be sound asleep by now—not that he could tell her what had happened. He peeled off his clothes in the narrow dressing room and quietly let himself into the bedroom.
The curtains were open, and the glow of the streetlamp outside fell across the bed. At his entrance, Willy raised his head from the bed—from Hugh’s pillow, actually. Hugh’s mouth twisted. “Willy, basket,” he ordered quietly. The dog regarded him for a moment, then stretched out to take up half the bed. The blankets rustled, and Eliza’s arm flopped across Willy’s neck. The dog heaved a sigh and thrashed his tail once, as if to sayshe has me—you’re not wanted.
He gazed at his sleeping wife. She was an innocent party in all this—perhaps the only one. Her father might be a poisonous spider, corrupting all he caught in his web, but Eliza was not. Hugh couldn’t undo the marriage. In truth, he didn’t want to. Not only for the vast fortune she’d brought him, but because he was coming to care for her a great deal. She would be horrified and humiliated if she discovered that Edith’s engagement was in danger because of her. No one deserved that. He’d seen the overtures Eliza had made to his mother and sisters; she wanted them to like her. And he had promised her they would... in time.
If Benwick followed through and jilted Edith, though, he thought it was possible they would despise Eliza. Hugh didn’t know how he would prevent any of it.
But he was not getting pushed out of his own bed by a dog. “Basket,” he repeated, pointing. This time Willy slunk off the bed and went to his basket. Hugh eased between the covers, wondering how his attempts to save his family had all gone so horribly wrong.
Chapter 17
Eliza awoke to someone kissing her neck.
Today, though, it was not Willy.
“Good morning,” Hugh murmured, his hands skating up and down her arms. “I can tell you’re awake, Lady Hastings.”
She tried to stifle her laugh. “How can you tell that?”
“Because I’ve been making free of your body for some time now, learning every little thing that makes you twitch and sigh and moan.” His hand settled around her breast, his thumb stroking roughly over her nipple. “As your husband, I ought to know these things.”
That explained why her heart was already racing and her skin felt hot. Eliza stretched and realized with a shock that her nightgown was up over her hips—and even more, that her husband was naked. No sooner did she move her legs than his slid between them, his own strong and hairy and so much bigger than hers. It was startling, and arousing, and so shocking, she said the first thing that came into her head. “Where’s Willy?”
His chest shook with silent laughter. “He whined to go out some time ago. Bernard took him to the kitchen.”
“Oh.” Eliza wished she weren’t such an idiot, to mention the dog when her husband was making love to her. “Thank you.”
“I had to throw him off the bed last night.” His hand slid down her belly, right between her thighs. Her pulse went wild. Hewasmaking free with her body, and she was feverishly anxious for him to do it faster and harder. “I don’t want to begin our married life by making rules, but that is one: the dog sleeps in his bed, and I sleep in mine.” He nipped at the skin below her ear. “With my wife.”
