Page 9 of The Earl and the Vixen
After the way things ended between them, fate must be playing a cruel joke or some kind of retribution for trapping him for an entire fortnight with her. Hadn’t he already suffered enough? He was a step away from being a monk, and there she was tempting and teasing him, reminding him of what he lost. What she stole from them both.
He found himself unable to look away from her, and he hated himself for it. She was even more beautiful than the last time he’d seen her, with a few loose curls of her caramel-colored hair framing her heart-shaped face. Her body appeared even more womanly, and it did nothing to ease the strain in his breeches, as well as the anger boiling beneath the surface.
Before he could force himself to look away, her eyes met his. She attempted to school her features, but her crystal blue eyes failed her. If the ire in her expression was any indication, the lady was just as unhappy to see him as he was to see her, which wasn’t at all surprising.
After what had occurred between them, he was certain she didn’t wish to be in his presence. The feeling was entirely mutual, but it would appear they were stuck. They would be forced together for an entire fortnight, required to put on airs and polite niceties for the benefit of the other guests.
Although he supposed it shouldn’t be difficult for her given her ability to trick and mislead others. Perhaps he might finally force her to explain herself. At least if he could leave the house party with matters resolved and the ability to fuck again, that would be a start. He’d certainly never love again.
He raised his glass to her with a tight smile, as if he toasted the wordless pact he’d made to move on from her, then took a healthy gulp.
She whispered something to the lady beside her and then started right for him.Hell and damnation.Nick wasn’t ready, as he hadn’t prepared for that moment. What would he even say to her? He hadn’t even imagined the situation because he never intended to subject himself to it. Part of him wanted an explanation in the hope of releasing himself from her hold, but the other part of him worried he might lose the other half of his soul hearing the words aloud. Suspecting she never loved him and hearing her say it were two different things entirely.
She held her chin high and didn’t take her eyes off his as she approached.
“Lord Craven,” she said, the disdain evident in her tone. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He drained the remaining contents of his glass. It hardly seemed necessary for her to state the obvious.
“I’m sure you are just as delighted as I am about this revelation,” he said, matching her tone.
“Quite,” she spat. “I should have known that I couldn’t avoid your unwelcome presence forever.”
At least she kept her voice low, so perhaps they wouldn’t have their row where the entire room could bear witness. It was bad enough to live the shame, but he certainly didn’t wish the rest of society to know how lost he had been to the woman in front of him.
“The feeling is indeed mutual,” he returned, flashing her a tight, fake smile. He pretended to look around the room. “Where is your husband? Certainly he should keep an eye on you.”
She scoffed. “That’s low. Even for the likes of you and the very low standard one might hold you to. And not that it is any of your business, but I am here alone.”
“Oh, hoping to partake of a willing gentleman,” he said, waving his hand towards the other guests. “I’m sure there will be many options at a country house party for a light skirt such as yourself. Please don’t let me keepyou.” He didn’t mean that in the slightest. The same as he couldn’t allow another woman in his bed, the idea of her fucking another man was far too much for him to handle. Knowing she had married and another man climbed on top of her made his skin crawl and was the source of his nightmares.
She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice even further, speaking through her teeth. “You are a cruel bastard. Stay away from me.” She turned on her heel and crossed the room to rejoin her friend.
How dare she treat him like he was the cruel one after what she had done? How she ran off and married someone else without a glance back or even a conversation with him? Nick had loved her more than he had ever believed possible. He would have destroyed the entire world and watched it burn if that would have been what was required to have her. He would have laid down his life for hers if the need had presented itself. And she went and married someone else. Then there she was, flaunting herself around at house parties without her husband, whomever the poor cuckold was, in tow.
“Nick, good to see you,” a familiar voice said, pulling him from his disdain for the frigid woman of his past.
“Onslow,” Nick said, “it’s been a long time.” Hudson Brooks, the Earl of Onslow, was another friend from his days at Cambridge.
“I heard you lost your father a while back,” Onslow said. “Please accept my condolences.”
“Same to you. I heard about your parents. I can’t imagine losing both at once,” Nick replied.
The man frowned. “Indeed. It’s been a few years now, but I have learnt to adjust.”
“I guess we have no other choice. It is what is expected, I suppose,” Nick said.
Eliza’s laugh caught his attention. It was like the tinkling of bells, and he pushed away a memory of her giggling in his arms after one of the many times they had made love. Well, at least for him it had been love. She seemed to be incapable of the emotion. He tamped down his rage that she was speaking with a gentleman who glanced at her chest when the man believed Eliza wouldn’t notice. Worse, why did he even care? She probably welcomed the attention.
“Do you fancy Lady Eliza?” Onslow asked, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.
“What? No,” Nick replied. “And shouldn’t you refer to her by her married name?”
Confusion marred the man’s expression. “What are you talking about?”
“Wasn’t she married a few years ago? Or is she a widow now?” Nick asked. That would explain why she had attended the house party on her own if she were, in fact,a widow. And why she would consider throwing herself at the likes of Lord Irvine.
“I think you are confused from your time away from society, Nick,” Onslow said. “Lady Eliza has never married. She has turned down countless proposals. Her name is on the betting books at White’s, with many hoping to win her hand.”
