Let Me Be The One (32 page)

Northam felt her stillness and wondered at it. He looked longingly at the apple tree. If only he could stretch out beneath it, rest his back against the trunk, cross his arms, his ankles, generally assume his finest posture for contemplation, then perhaps he could conceive the theory that would explain Lady Elizabeth Penrose. It was not as if he were proposing to understand
all
women. He wanted only to understand this one.

North drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Comprehension, if it was possible, was not likely to happen tonight. "Lady Powell has a slightly different view of your confession."

That garnered all of Elizabeth's attention. "Oh?"

"She thinks you placed the necklace in my trunk and made the confession in order to trap me into marriage. She was highly complimentary of your efforts. Called it Machiavellian, I believe."

"Lady Powell doesn't know Machiavelli from my left foot."

"Perhaps I misunderstood that part."

"Hmm."

"But she was complimentary."

"I have no doubt. Lord Southerton should be concerned she will follow my example."

"His valet has already gone through his trunks—twice."

She felt her lips twitch. "A perfectly reasonable precaution."

"Fear makes him cautious."

Elizabeth laughed outright. "Have you considered South's role in all of this? Perhaps he put the necklace in your trunk in the hope that I would rush to your rescue. There is the wager, after all. A man can be persuaded to almost any end for an entire sovereign."

"West won. South wagered we would
not
marry."

"Oh."

"Indeed."

She sobered and asked carefully, "Do you think I meant to trap you?"

"I seem to recall proposing marriage and being rejected in no uncertain terms. If you changed your mind about it, I think you would have come to me, not gone about it in this havey-cavey fashion." Northam absently nudged the swing with the toe of his boot. It rocked slightly, causing Elizabeth to dig in her heels to steady it. When he felt her resistance, he realized what he had been about. "I'm sorry."

"Mm." She waited patiently for him to continue. Her grip on the swing relaxed and she lowered her toes.

"I wondered if perhaps you thought I had meant to trap you."

A slight smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "It wasn't a very certain trap, was it? I think you could have made a better job of it than hinging the outcome on the mere hope that I would rescue you. What is it you truly wish to know?"

He laughed quietly, not at all uncomfortable with the idea that she knew something else was on his mind. "Do you think I'm the thief?"

The question startled Elizabeth. After a moment she said, "It never once occurred to me."

"Really? Never once?"

She shook her head.

"I confess that surprises me."

"Do you mean you should like it better if I had entertained the idea? You will have to explain that to me, I'm afraid. Most men would not want their honor impugned. Unless it is because you believe that drivel you said to Lady Powell."

"Oh? And what drivel is that?"

"About your reputation being enhanced by the suspicion that you are the Gentleman Thief."

One of his eyebrows lifted. "I take it your heart does not beat more wildly at the notion."

"It does not even flutter." She felt North's low chuckle as a vibration through the swing. "Why did you think I should suspect you?" she asked seriously.

He considered the question before he answered. "Several reasons, I suppose. The first evening I stayed at Battenburn I came upon you in the library."

"I thought you were in want of a book."

"I was. But there was no reason you should suppose that to be true."

"I see." She was glad for the darkness. It covered her poor efforts to temper her amusement. "So I should have supposed you were in search of items to steal. Pray, go on."

"I see you mean to have fun with me, Lady Elizabeth."

"Yes, I think I do."

North did not mind at all. That she could feel such comfort with him boded well, he thought, even if she did not realize it. "Well, then, for your continued merriment, let me add that you witnessed my athletic grace in leaving a bedchamber by a window route. According to Lady Battenburn, that is how the thief left her room."

"True," she said. "But I quite miss the point. I thought your experience with scaling walls the result of a great many near encounters with suspicious husbands, not that you were stealing from the
ton."

"Is it your intention to flatter or wound me?"

"Neither. I am still having fun with you."

He grinned. "As you like. There is also the fact that I helped you find the treasure."

"Odd. I thought I helped you."

"Do not split hairs."

Elizabeth laughed. "Very well. You present some compelling points and I have been remiss in not suspecting you. You must return the gold fob and ruby pendant immediately to Louise and make amends to society."

"And you will stand by me?"

"I will write you faithfully in Australia."

North responded to her butter-wouldn't-melt tone with a shout of laughter.

Elizabeth placed a finger to her own lips to shush him. "You'll wake Lord Southerton," she whispered.

Laughter continued to rumble. "Now that would indeed be unfortunate."

"Why is that?"

"Because I could not so easily do this." He swooped quickly, catching her while her face was still raised. His mouth slanted across hers. North felt her momentary resistance, part surprise, part uncertainty, then her sweet response, the parted lips and breathy little sigh, the tentative press of her mouth and the damp edge of her tongue. It was with some reluctance that he drew back. He could not properly take her in his arms and he had no wish to start something he could not finish. Tomorrow night was another matter entirely.

Elizabeth felt him remove his foot from the swing seat. His hands slid up the ropes again. She lowered her head, then her eyes. Her own hands dropped to her lap. She could still feel the outline of his mouth against hers. She wanted to resent him for her response but knew there was no fairness in it. He could rouse nothing from her that she was unwilling to give. "May I speak frankly?" she asked.

North thought she had certainly done so in the past. "I hope you always will. I would not have it otherwise."

"You only think that now," she said softly. Elizabeth shook her head. "It is of no matter. I do not mean to make that argument again. What I want to say is—"

"Can you not look at me?"

Her chin came up predictably. She saw that North had shifted just enough to one side to allow the torchlight to bathe her face. While he still stood in shadow, she was exposed. It did not make her shy away from what must be said. "I think you imagine some tender feelings toward me. Am I correct?"

"I would only take issue with the word
imagine.
The tender feelings are quite real." North could not tell if this small concession make it easier or more difficult for her to continue. Even in full light, Elizabeth's features gave nothing away. "Does this present an impediment to our marriage?"

Uncertain if he was making light of her, Elizabeth frowned slightly. "That is for you to say. You must know I return no feeling other than a kind regard for your good character." She peered up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. It was impossible to tell what he thought, or if he was moved in any way. "I would not have you fall in love with me."

Northam released the swing and let his hands drop to his sides. "Surely that is not up to you."

"I realize that. In truth, I do not know if such a thing is possible. Whatever the nature of your feelings for me now, it will come to change. I should think it very likely that someday you will hate me. Indeed, I do not know how it can be otherwise. You probably believe I am saying this for your sake, but it is not so. I say it for my own. I find I am selfish enough to hope that you will hate me less if you never love me at all."

Northam was quite without words. He watched a sheen of tears overlay her implacable eyes. She continued to regard him steadily, unblinkingly, as if willing them not to fall, and he wondered at the cost to her pride to put this matter before him. Did she think so little of herself, or so much?

"There is no need for you to marry me," she said gravely. In spite of her wish for it to be otherwise, there was a catch in her voice. Elizabeth drew a shaky breath. "I want to be very clear on that account. It is not too late to withdraw your proposal. You could choose to set me up as your mistress and I would accept. We need only keep the arrangement a few months, live through the scandal, and then go on with our lives. Your reputation will not suffer unduly, and since I never had any intention of marrying again, what they say about me does not matter. Divorce is a much more difficult end to achieve."

"There will be no divorce," North said. "There is no—" He stopped, frowning. His fingers raked his hair, then came to rest at the back of his neck. He massaged the knot of tension that was forming there. "What do you mean you had no intention of marrying again?"

Now Elizabeth blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

North did not believe for a moment that Elizabeth had not heard him. For the first time in their short acquaintance he suspected she was preparing to dissemble. "You said you had no intention of marrying again. It suggests that you have been married before. Is that true?"

She shook her head forcefully. "No. No, I have not."

North's eyes narrowed. "Then explain yourself."

"There is nothing to explain. I believe you misunderstood or I misspoke. I was making reference to our possible marriage. I simply meant that I never had intention of marrying again after
that."

North tried to bring to mind the whole of her little speech and found he could not. He was left only with the impression that all was not as it should be. "You were no virgin," he said.

Elizabeth's laugh sounded a trifle hysterical to her own ears. She recovered quickly, covering her mouth with her hand until it was swallowed. She said evenly, "I believe that is explained by the fact that I am a whore."

Northam knew he could easily lose patience with her. As a defense, what she offered was unconventional. "But if you were married—"

"And I have said I was not."

"Then you have had a great many lovers."

Unable to help her response, Elizabeth flinched."I believe that is the very definition of a whore."

Which, again, was not precisely an answer. Northam thought he had accepted that there had been someone else before him, but now he had cause to wonder. Was it the vision of that damnable parade of men to her bed that troubled him, or this new suspicion that there had been but one man, a very special man... a husband?

He stepped back from the swing entirely and extended his hand. "Come," he said somewhat stiffly. "I will escort you back to the house."

Elizabeth stood without accepting his assistance and made to walk past him. His hand on her elbow stopped her. She looked at it pointedly.

"I will escort you," he said again.

She thought better of pulling away. Come tomorrow she would have no right to do so. She might as well accustom herself to it now. Northam seemed to have already reconsidered his promise that nothing should be done that would cause her discomfort. Elizabeth looked up, startled, when his hand fell away. Torchlight flickered across his face and she saw he had not changed his mind at all; rather there was a hint of regret in his dark blue eyes that she found most unsettling.

"This way," he said. "The path is less circuitous."

* * *

Elizabeth had never fainted and she willed herself not to do so now. She wished that it was appropriate for North to take her arm. She would have been grateful for his support. Instead he stood beside her, seemingly at his ease while her entire body thrummed with the strength of nerves pulled taut.

She lifted the small bouquet she held just enough to catch the delicate fragrance of lilies-of-the-field. Better that Louise should have placed smelling salts among the greenery. That at least would have assured she remained upright, if not entirely coherent.

What was the vicar saying? She caught fragments of his opinion on the purpose of marriage, the sanctity of the vows, and the rights and privileges of the contract they were making with each other and with God. Elizabeth had no idea if she agreed with any of it. She kept her focus on the vicar's spectacles. They winked in the sunlight coming through the stained glass windows and cast a reflection that prevented her from seeing his eyes clearly. It was more difficult not to imagine his censure.

She found no relief by considering what those sitting behind her might be thinking. Lord and Lady Battenburn sat alone on her side of the church, the only people in attendance who were known of long acquaintance. Northam's contingency was scarcely larger. The Compass Club was there, infinitely more sober than the first time Elizabeth had seen them together, and in the first row was the dowager countess. Elizabeth could not know if Northam's friends were on their best behavior because of respect for the occasion or fear of his mother. Elizabeth had only glimpsed her ladyship as she limped past her pew on her way to stand with Northam. What she saw did not ease her mind in the least.