Page 5 of The Earl and the Vixen
She tapped her fingers on the armrest. Where was he? He was going to pay with his tongue for leaving her waiting. She laughed at the thought, knowing he would be more than happy to oblige her command. The wetness between her legs only intensified with each passing moment, thinking of more and more ways she longed to fuck and make love to him.
Eliza grew more impatient after another hour of waiting. She took to pacing the room if only to keep herself from staring out the window to watch for him.
Another hour passed. Her need had evaporated and she grew worried. Had something happened to him? Panic seized her heart. Hoping he was all right, she stepped out onto the porch of the cabin and listened, in search of any indication that he was on his way to her.
“Where are you, Nick?” she asked to the night sky.
She paced every square inch of the hunting cabin over the course of the next couple of hours until she knew she must return if she didn’t wish for anyone to know she hadn’t been in her chamber that evening.
Blowing out all the candles before she left, she then mounted her horse and raced back to the mews to toss the reins to the groom and hurry back inside.
When she sank into her bed, she buried her face in her pillow, allowing it to muffle her sobs. What if something happened to him? What if he decided he no longer wished to marry her? No, he loved her. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he loved her. There had to be some reason he hadn’t come to her. He would call on her and explain everything. She was certain of it.
Eliza tossed and turned until the sky began to brighten. She finally passed out from exhaustion, and by the time she opened her eyes again, she hadn’t the faintest idea what time it was. The events of the previous evening came flooding back and her heart weighed heavily, worrying about Nick.
Dot knocked and entered her chamber, then set a tray on the table in her chamber. “My lady, you’re awake. I tried to wake you earlier, but you seemed to need your rest.”
Eliza nodded, massaging her temples from where her head had a dull ache from all the crying she had done and furrowing her worried brow. “I’d like to dress now, Dot.”
“Of course, my lady,” Dot said. “I have a morning dress pressed and ready for you.”
Dot helped her to dress and styled her hair into a simple chignon. Eliza didn’t have the energy to carry on conversation, and she wasn’t certain if Dot attempted to speak to her. She could only think of Nick. Dot encouraged herto eat a few bites of the food from the tray, but Eliza’s stomach was in knots, and she couldn’t think of food when something may have happened to Nick.
She departed her chamber, attempting to form a plan to go to his father’s home to see about his welfare. She would have no choice but to seek assistance from her father. Perhaps it was time she told her father of her intention to marry Nick and he just might understand and aid her. She set off towards his study, hoping she might find him there.
The door was open, and when she peeked her head in, she found him sitting at his desk.
“Papa?” she called out to get his attention, crossing the threshold to enter the room.
“Eliza, there you are,” he said, rising from his seat. “This came for you.”
She eyed the missive in her father’s hand and released a long breath. A bit of relief washed over her. It must be from Nick. He wrote to explain what had occurred and all would be well. She took the letter from her father and inspected the writing on the outside. Her name was written in a neat but masculine hand.
She broke the seal and began reading the words to herself.
Lady Elizabeth,
I know you harbored hope that we would marry, but I must inform you that this notion shall never come to pass.
There is too much bad blood between our families to make a marriage between us work. Surely you are already aware of this.
Perhaps if I truly loved you, it would be enough. But alas, that was never the case. Although, it was fun making you believe so. I could never love the daughter of my father’s sworn enemy.
LordNicholas Craven
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she fought to keep from casting up her accounts. She gripped the edge of her father’s desk to steady herself and keep from sinking to the floor.
“What is it, Eliza?” her father asked.
She shook her head, unwilling to look at her father.
“Give that to me now,” he commanded. He held his hand out, waiting for her to comply.
With no choice, she handed the missive to her father, hanging her head in shame.
Her father shook his head and crumpled the parchment before letting it drop to the ground.
“I knew that boy would be trouble,” he spat. “His father must have put him up to toy with you. Be glad you are rid of him.”
