Let Me Be The One (43 page)

"Are you in pain?" he asked.

Elizabeth reached quickly for her robe and shrugged into it. Without answering him she limped into the dressing room. She stirred a packet of powder that Louise's physician had prescribed into a glass already filled with water.

"What are you doing?" North asked his question from the doorway. "What is that?"

Elizabeth's fingers curled around the glass and she raised it halfway to her mouth. "Something that will help me sleep."

North had an urge to knock it from her hand. What he did instead was close his fingers around her wrist. "Let me see it." He was vaguely surprised when she did not try to fling it in his face. He bent his head and smelled the preparation. "Who gave you this?"

"Lady Battenburn's physician."

"It has laudanum in it."

"I suppose it does."

North's grip on her wrist tightened so that her fingers loosened on the glass. He allowed that it might have been an unnecessary tactic. Elizabeth did not resist when he lifted it from her. He opened the window just enough to toss the contents, then he set the glass on the commode. "Come. I know something that will help you sleep." He extended his hand palm out but made no move to touch her.

Elizabeth looked first at his hand, then his face. He simply stood there, infinitely patient, giving so little away that she could not know his intentions. A week ago she would have thought he meant to make love to her and she would have gone to him willingly, even eagerly. She did not do so now.

"Do you trust me, Elizabeth?"

The words caused tears to well in her eyes. The question in Elizabeth's mind wasn't if she trusted him still, but whether she had ever trusted him. "I'm afraid," she whispered. "You can't know how afraid I am."

North raised his hand a fraction. His fingers moved almost imperceptibly, beckoning her. His cobalt blue eyes never left her face.

"Don't send me away," she said. Elizabeth blinked back tears. "I'll do anything you—" She reached out blindly for his hand and brought it to her breast. She cupped it against her heart as she took a step toward him. "Please. I can learn to trust you. I can—"

"Shh." North used his free arm to draw her to him. He could feel her heart pounding against his palm. She was damp and trembling and just moments shy of breaking down completely in front of him. "Shh. Come. Let me take you to bed." Her hair and skin held the fragrance of lavender. Her thin robe clung to her. He felt her warmth; her body heat outlined her slender frame. North gently removed his hand from between them and lifted her. He carried her to their bed and put her down on top of the thick comforter.

Sitting at her side, he tugged at her loose sash. Elizabeth's arms remained at her side. Her fingers tightened on the comforter as he opened the robe across her belly and breasts. Candlelight from the bedside table fell across her skin and she had an urge to cover herself.

As if sensing it, North told her to turn over. Elizabeth complied with what she thought might be misinterpreted as indecent haste. The truth was more complicated than that. She buried her face in a pillow to keep from revealing it and closed her eyes. He removed her robe. She heard the whisper of silk as it slipped off the edge of the bed.

North left her side for a moment and returned with a warm towel. He dried her shoulders and back and lifted each arm in turn to dry them as well. He used the towel to rub her buttocks and the back of her thighs. Tension tightened her muscles at first and then slowly seeped out of her as his touch remained impersonal and undemanding.

North left the bed again to put the towel aside and remove his shoes and jacket. Elizabeth's head now rested on its side, no longer elevated by the pillow but by the back of one hand. She watched him place his jacket over a chair and then unwind his cravat. He did so with an economy of motion that was a pleasure to watch. His hair gleamed in the firelight. That brightness was in perfect contrast to the shadow that overlay his features.

He came to the bed still dressed in his shirt and trousers.

His knee made a deep depression in the mattress as he climbed on and straddled her thighs.

Elizabeth's head shot up and she craned her neck to see him. "What are you—"

North leaned forward and pressed her head back. "Close your eyes. You want to sleep, do you not?"

She did. Not just for a few hours. But for days and days. She was not at all certain that she wanted to wake from wherever a sleep like that could take her. The thought of what she was really considering did not overly frighten her any longer. Was she braver, then, or more of a coward?

Elizabeth emitted a soft sigh as North's hands pressed gently on the small of her back and worked their way up her spine. His fingers kneaded her naked shoulders with tender but firm pressure and slowly traveled down the sides of her back. He repeated the path three more times, each time dipping a little lower so that he was finally pressing the heels of his hands into her hips and taut buttocks. He adjusted his position so that he was over her calves and then massaged the backs of her thighs. By the time North returned to her back, Elizabeth was sleeping deeply.

* * *

North rose from his chair as Elizabeth entered the dining room. "Forgive me," he said politely. "I did not anticipate that you would join me. You were still abed when I inquired of your maid not an hour ago."

Elizabeth nodded. A servant held out a chair for her and she took her seat at the table. She had dressed with some care in spite of the speed with which it was accomplished, choosing a lavender gown with a wide neckline that she could accent with pearls. It seemed important to Elizabeth that she look her best this evening. It was a matter of pride.

A fine powder covered the shadows beneath her eyes and a touch of rouge put color in her cheeks and lips. She hoped that if he noticed her application of cosmetics he would say nothing of this small deceit. It paled in comparison to so many others.

North waited while Elizabeth was served consommé. He noticed she made a credible effort to pretend she was hungry at the beginning of the meal, but with each subsequent course her enthusiasm flagged. In the end she could only manage a few bites of the flaky steamed trout before she asked for her plate to be taken. Matters were not helped by the fact that he could think of little to say. Engaging her in conversation for its own sake seemed pointless, and the things he wanted to tell her were perhaps better left for another time.

For her part Elizabeth was satisfied with the silence. She had not come to dinner to sate any hunger save the one that demanded she spend these last hours in the company of her husband.

"Will you join me in a glass of wine?" North asked when the table was cleared.

She nodded. "Yes... I'd like that."

"In my study, then." He stood, waving back the servant who stepped forward to help Elizabeth from her chair. He assisted her himself, then escorted her on his arm to the study. "You are looking very fine this evening," he said. "Your sleep was restful, I collect."

"Indeed it was."

"Good." He released her arm and dismissed the butler, who had arrived to serve them. North poured them each a glass of Madeira. Elizabeth was standing in front of the fireplace and he carried hers to her. "You're cold?" he asked.

"A little." She took the glass. "This will warm me."

"Do you want a shawl?"

"No." Elizabeth sipped her wine. It sent immediate heat coursing through her veins. Her laugh was a trifle shaky. "You will not want to refill this for me, even if I ask."

North smiled. "Very well." He placed his glass on the mantel while he poked at the fire. Elizabeth thanked him for his thoughtfulness and then they fell silent again. It was not wholly uncomfortable. She slowly walked the perimeter of the study, taking note of North's books, while he remained standing at the fireplace, content to watch her.

"I see you have added some Gothic novels," she said. "You have certainly broadened your reading interests."

"Actually I purchased those from the bookseller for you."

She glanced over her shoulder, surprised. "You did?"

"Yes." North was already regretting the admission. He had made the purchase the day before he found the bottle on Elizabeth's vanity. The books arrived after the confirmation of the bottle's contents. In light of more important concerns, he forgot about them. One of the servants must have shelved them. "You may take them with you to Rosemont."

Elizabeth's hand tightened on the stem of her wineglass. "No, thank you," she said stiffly. "My father does not approve of romantic twaddle. If it will not improve me, then I should not read it."

"Hang your father."

She made no response to that. Turning away, she continued to regard the books but with only the pretense of interest. Her circle of the study concluded when she reached the fireplace again. In spite of what she had told North about drinking more, she topped off her glass. He made no move to stop her. "I should like a day to manage my affairs," she said quietly. "There has been no time to visit Louise and explain that I am to leave London."

"That can be accomplished by post," North said.

It was what she expected him to say. She nodded, not offering any argument. If the weather was not improved she would have time. "There is also your mother. I did not speak of it at West's. Did you?"

"No. It would have been ill-timed."

"That is what I thought." Elizabeth sipped her wine. "You would prefer to tell her, I imagine."

"Yes."

She nodded slowly. "And what will you say?"

"That Isabel has asked for you, I suppose. I have not given it much thought."

"Just so," she said. "It is understandable. You are anxious to have me gone." She watched a shutter close over his features. "Do not worry that I will beg you again to reconsider. I have no wish for any unpleasantness this evening. I would ask that you explain to your mother that I was called away suddenly. I have a great affection for her and would not have her think I cared so little that I would say nothing."

"Of course."

"And I'm certain that in time you will be able to find some reasonable explanation for the divorce."

North frowned. His cobalt blue eyes darkened and pierced her."Divorce? Why do you assume there will be a divorce?"

Elizabeth blinked. "I cannot stay at Rosemont forever, my lord. And I cannot very well live in London apart from you, though I am certain Louise will allow me to stay with her in spite of the inconvenience and scandal."

Anger mingled with disbelief. "You would live with the baron and baronness?"

"I just said I could not, didn't I? I would have to establish my own residence."

This did little to appease Northam. "That's absurd. You will live here when you return to London."

"Not if we are divorced."

North sucked in a breath and forced himself to let it out slowly. "There will be no divorce, Elizabeth. We will not discuss this further."

His arrogance made her chin come up. "I would know what your plans for me are. I thought I was being banished to the country. I cannot live there forever, my lord. I will not."

"You will stay until I send for you."

"And when will that be? A fortnight? A month? A year from now?"

It pained North to admit, "I do not know."

"Then, pray, do not be surprised when I am not there to receive your summons."

"Are you threatening me, Elizabeth?"

It shocked her that he could think so, yet it was pain that filled her eyes. "No, my lord. It is no threat." Elizabeth set her wineglass down on the tray. "This was a poor idea. Coming downstairs, I mean. Forgive me." She started for the door and was halted halfway by North's quiet entreaty.

"I require time," he said. "How can you not know that?"

Elizabeth waited, her back to him, in anticipation that he would say more. When he did not, she nodded once and let herself out.

* * *

She did not turn away when he reached for her. Elizabeth had wondered if he would and she made up her mind then that she would deny neither of them this bittersweet union.

His large hands caressed her breasts, her thighs. He pinned her wrists to the bed while his mouth captured hers. He sucked on her lips, ran his tongue along the ridge of her teeth. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, biting gently on her skin, worrying it, raising a mark that she would see in her mirror for days to come. His fingers made brief prints in her flesh as they trailed from her wrists to her shoulders. He caught the lobe of her ear and tugged and then kissed the hollow just below. His whisper was soft and husky and tickled her skin.

Elizabeth moved restlessly. Nothing he did satisfied her, yet it was all of a piece, leading her toward that end. His mouth closed over her breast. Her nipple grew hard. He took it between his lips and teased it with the damp edge of his tongue. Her fingers slipped into his hair. She held him close, arching as he drew a response from deep in her womb.

It was the first time she made love to him knowing that she loved him. She wondered if the difference in her response was only inside her, or if North felt the hesitation and uncertainty that loving him introduced. There was a certain amount of awe in her touch, a need to remind herself that he was flesh and blood, and to know it by the weight and heat of his body on top of hers.