For Elise (28 page)

Things were different with Elise
after their discussion in the library. She smiled more, though the hint of sadness didn’t entirely leave her eyes. Miles could tell she was no longer hiding from him. Only time would entirely bridge the chasm between them, but they were closer now.

Her newfound ease in his company extended to others as well. The Haddingtons, along with another family in the neighborhood, dropped by for an afternoon visit two days later. While Elise had rather looked like a frightened rabbit during the Haddingtons’ last visit, she was entirely composed during this one.

She chatted quite amicably, wearing a serene smile, but she likely wasn’t nearly as self-assured as she appeared. Miles watched her with no small degree of pride. Elise was a wonder.

“We heard the squire was here,” Mr. Haddington said. “Something about a break-in or a murder or something.” His curiosity could not have been more apparent.

Elise met Miles’s gaze. Though no one would detect the wariness in her expression, Miles could see it. Mr. Haddington’s morbid fascination with their fathers’ deaths had bothered her considerably. This line of questioning certainly would as well.

“Yes, there appeared to have been an intruder in Tafford a few nights ago,” Miles explained, keeping his tone matter-of-fact. “And though we cannot be certain, we do suspect it may have been the same person who took the lives of my father and Mrs. Jones’s several years ago.”

A few of the ladies expressed their immediate concern. Mr. Haddington was the only gentleman present other than Miles. He clearly already knew the details and simply watched eagerly for more information.

“Until we are certain there is no immediate danger,” Miles continued, “the neighborhood is advised to be cautious.”

“How terrifying,” Miss Saunders said.

The Saunders’ estate sat on the other side of the Haddingtons’. The Saunders were generally considered quite a social family, though they’d hesitated to visit Tafford, apparently feeling overawed at the thought of a marquess. That would take some getting used to. Miles was not at all accustomed to being intimidating.

“I must say, Mrs. Jones, you do not seem overly frightened,” Mrs. Haddington observed. “Does the thought of a murderer on the loose not worry you?”

Elise didn’t so much as flinch. “I have lived four years with the knowledge that there was a murderer on the loose. As much as the realization worries you after only a few days, I assure you it worries me a great deal more.”

Miles felt like applauding. Here was the Elise he remembered: the perfect combination of grace and plucky tenacity.

“And what is being done about this threat?” Mrs. Haddington demanded the answer of Elise as though she were somehow personally responsible.

There was no doubt Mrs. Haddington had decided not to like her. Miles had his suspicions as to why. Not a single visit passed without the woman practically tossing her daughter at him. He couldn’t even pass them on horseback without being stopped and peppered with questions about how lovely Miss Haddington looked or how fine a horsewoman she was. Miles liked Miss Haddington well enough, but he had no interest in that direction.

“What is being done?” Elise repeated the question aimed at her. “I believe that would be a question best asked of the squire.”

“How is your sweet little girl?” Miss Haddington jumped in before her mother could pose any more questions. “She was such a darling in the short moments she visited with us before.”

Relief showed in Elise’s eyes as she gladly took up the new topic of discussion. “She is well; thank you. I am afraid she is far too shy of strangers yet to make her curtsies to a group as large as this one.”

“Yes, understandably so,” Miss Haddington said.

“She is four years old, did you say?” Mrs. Haddington pressed.

Elise’s smile turned just a touch icy as she answered. “She is
three
years old.”

“And has the most darling curls,” Miss Haddington said, turning to Miss Saunders. “Am I the only one who always longed for elegant curls as a girl?”

Miss Saunders laughed happily. “I think every little girl with straight hair wished for curls.”

“And every girl with curls longed to be rid of them,” Elise added.

A weight lifted from Miles’s shoulders as the ladies embarked on a conversation that steered clear of murders and thinly veiled questions about Anne’s age. This wasn’t the easiest of visits, but Elise was surviving it nicely.

However, by the time the last visitor left, Elise looked exhausted. “I do not know how ladies of the
ton
survive their at-homes in Town. We had not a half-dozen people here, and I am ready to lock myself in a room somewhere and refuse to see anyone for days.”

Miles walked with her toward the back sitting room. “That is actually what the men of the
ton
generally do. Only we lock ourselves in our clubs.”

She grinned up at him. “You are all cowards, then?”

“Yellow through and through.”

She stepped through the door ahead of him. “I had a feeling Mr. Haddington would be particularly interested in the news that a murderer was in our midst. He seems rather too fond of that kind of thing.”

Miles had noticed that as well. “I have had a few conversations with him, but our fathers’ deaths are the only ones he’s brought up. Either he hasn’t been privy to any other morbid tales, or he’s particularly interested in this one.”

Contemplation sat heavy on Elise’s brow. “That is something of a worrisome thought, isn’t it?”

“It has swarmed in my mind a great deal lately,” he said. “He knew our fathers and is exceptionally interested in being told what we know about their murders.”

Elise stood quite still, watching Miles but with the aura of one whose thoughts weren’t entirely in the moment. “I have found myself wondering if he is asking these questions in order to know if he has adequately covered his tracks. Do you think that is overly suspicious of me? Perhaps I am assuming too much.”

Miles stepped farther into the room, resisting the urge to pace. “If you are assuming too much, then so am I. Those same suspicions have entered my mind.”

“I worried after the murders that the killer might have been someone I knew. Every person who passed by after that night, anyone who offered a ‘good day’ or even looked at me made me wonder.” She rubbed at her arms as if a sudden chill had taken hold. “I don’t like the idea any better now than I did then.”

He set his hands on her arms. “Considering the weight of worry you are carrying about, you were in fine form this afternoon. Even Mrs. Haddington’s attempts to upend you were fruitless.”

Elise smiled a little. “I have been afraid of my own shadow long enough. It is time I found my backbone again.”

“Well, I for one am happy to see this side of you again.” Miles stroked her cheek as he spoke.

The sudden appearance of a blush broke her pallor. Miles held her face in his hands, his eyes drawn to hers. Something in her expression lightened, almost as if she’d smiled without moving her mouth. It wasn’t enough. Miles wanted to see a sparkle in her eyes again; he wanted to hear her spontaneous laughter. He wanted to keep her in his arms.

He wanted, in that moment, to kiss her. His gaze dropped to her mouth. He traced the outline of her lips with his thumb. Like a magnet to metal, he felt drawn to her, leaning closer. His heart pounded. She didn’t pull away.

The sensation of his lips pressed lightly to hers stole his breath away. Miles held her face more fervently, kissing her with more feeling. When Elise’s arms wrapped around him, Miles was lost. She kissed him in return.

One kiss proved insufficient. But recalling they were the only people in the room and the household was already suspicious of their relationship, Miles forced himself to pull away from her very tempting mouth.

Where had this come from? He’d never kissed her like that before. He tried to summon the words to apologize for his ungentlemanly behavior, but she spoke before he did.

“The last time you did that, Miles Linwood, I pushed you out of a tree.”

Miles suddenly burst out laughing, the tension of the moment entirely dissipating. “Is that why you pushed me?”

“Don’t you remember?”

“I can’t say that I do.” He let his arms fall and stepped back, still confused at what had brought on that kiss.

“You were cross with me over something,” Elise said, her cheeks still pink. “You threatened to kiss me if I didn’t stop pestering you—that was quite an effective method of torture at the time.”

He chuckled. “There is nothing a nine-year-old boy dislikes quite as much as a kiss. I probably assumed you would dislike it as well.”

“And I kept right on pricking at you,” she continued. “So you made good on your threat.”

“And then you pushed me out of the tree?” This conversation was on far more familiar footing.

“Of course.” Laughter danced in her eyes. At least she didn’t seem offended by his kiss. He hadn’t dealt a blow to their friendship with his inexplicable actions. “And you promised afterward never to kiss me again. Admittedly, that was one of the reasons I cried afterward.”

“You wanted me to kiss you?” For just a moment, he was tempted to kiss her again. Sanity won out in the end.

“I had decided not long before that day that you were going to give me my first kiss,” Elise admitted, the blush only intensifying.

“And I actually did.” Miles smiled.

“You actually did.” She sighed. “Was there anything in our childhoods we didn’t share? It seems every moment was a connection of some kind between us.”

“Very few people have been so lucky,” he said.

“And we were lucky enough to find each other again. I had honestly reconciled myself to that never happening.”

Though he’d held out hope, Miles had realized over the past four years how unlikely a reunion was.

“I should go,” she said. “Someone is liable to come in, and I’ll ruin your reputation entirely.”

“Elise,” he called after her as she reached the door. She turned back to look at him. “Did I tell you how lovely you look today?”

“You didn’t.”

“Well then, you look more than lovely, my dearest Elise. You look beautiful. I think that is my favorite of your dresses.”

“It’s mine as well.” Her smile brightened in the moment before she slipped from the room.

Only after she left did he let the full implication of what had happened hit him. He’d kissed her, though he wasn’t sure why. And she’d kissed him, something he was even less sure of. A gentleman didn’t generally go about kissing his closest friend. But, then, most gentlemen weren’t the closest of friends with an unwed lady.

He didn’t think he was in love with her. Indeed, the moment the thought occurred to him, he shook his head at the absurdity of it. This was Elise, after all. His dear friend, his childhood playmate. He likely shouldn’t have kissed her. She didn’t seem overly bothered by it, so he needn’t be either.

Nothing had changed. He told himself that more than once. It was a simple kiss, a moment of whim. They’d laughed about it afterward. That his heart still pounded a bit was nothing so extraordinary.

It had been a rather amazing kiss. For a moment, he was lost once more in the recollection of it. He pulled himself together quickly. Elise was his friend. He would do well to remember that and not do anything in the future to risk losing someone so precious.

* * *

Elise sat in the formal garden behind Tafford, trying to clamp down the all-encompassing grin she could feel just below the surface. Miles had kissed her, and it hadn’t been a brief peck on the cheek either. Her stomach tied in joyous knots at the memory. Her four-year-old self had set her heart on Miles kissing her. How little she’d understood that the experience would shift her entire foundation.

Her heart would never be entirely whole again without him. How long she’d loved him, Elise couldn’t say. Perhaps she always had a little. She’d been fighting down the realization for weeks. She could still feel his arms around her, his lips pressed to hers. She would never forget that feeling and would most likely blush every time she saw him.

Beth turned the path and smiled when she saw Elise sitting there. “May I join you?”

“Of course.” Elise clamped down an immediate surge of worry. If Beth had somehow learned about that more-than-friendly kiss, she would ring such a peal over Elise’s head.

“I don’t know if you have heard,” Beth said, “but Langley and I will be leaving for Lancashire shortly.”

“I hadn’t, but I cannot say I am surprised.”

“Our departure will necessitate a change in your situation,” Beth said. “Without me here lending propriety to your residency, you simply cannot remain.”

Elise hadn’t thought of that but couldn’t deny Beth was entirely correct.

“And though I hate to bring your reunion with Miles to an end, I do need to return to my own home.” Beth’s words were free of reprimand. She understood, at least in part, how much Miles meant to Elise.

“Mama Jones would allow Anne and me to live with her,” Elise said, hoping to set Beth’s mind at ease. “That is not so far away from Tafford.”