She looked up as if sensing him, her teacup braced almost to her lips. The breath froze in his lungs, and it was a physical thing to force himself forward. He collapsed in the chair closest to her, forgetting any sense of propriety.
“Eliza, I must beg your forgiveness.”
Her lips had been slightly parted as if she’d meant to say something, but at his outburst, she set down her cup with a precise thud.
“Whatever are you going on about?” Her frown caused a line to form between her eyes. “Carver was to take you some coffee and toast. Did you not receive it? I should hate to think your frivolity of last night will have undue repercussions this morning.”
He blinked. Undue repercussions?
She gestured with a nod to the sideboard. “Eggs always seemed to help Andrew when he sowed his wild oats in his youth. Cook makes the most remarkable eggs. Would you like me to prepare you a plate?”
She was offering to get him some eggs?
“Eliza, last night—”
“Oh, yes, I’m glad you should bring up last night. I had cause for concern that you might not recall some of what occurred while you were under the effects of the drink.”
He licked his lips. God, he could drink the entire Thames right then. “Yes, I must admit I can’t recall everything, but I do remember the important parts, and I must beg your forgiveness. I can explain what it is you overheard. I didn’t—”
She waved a hand at him, a smile coming to her lips. “Oh, you needn’t bother about all of that. We came to an understanding when you returned early this morning. There is nothing to apologize for.”
He blinked, studying her face. She was like a porcelain figurine with over-large eyes and caricature features. But it was her eyes which gave her away. Her smile never reached them, and the lines about her mouth marked a certain fragility. He hated himself then. He hated himself for his carelessness, for…everything.
“Eliza, there is. You must know—”
Again, she stopped him. “Ashbourne, please. You mustn’t go on like this.” She pushed to her feet, setting her napkin beside her untouched plate. She drifted over to the sideboard and loaded a plate with eggs and toast. When she returned to the table, she placed the plate in front of him and reached for the teapot. “Is tea all right? I had Carver bring up the only urn of coffee to you this morning. Cook is attempting to ready the kitchens for our departure, so there isn’t any more to be had, I’m afraid.” She poured a neat cup of tea for him.
He could do nothing but watch this soulless pantomime. Eliza was doing everything she could to show him she was all right. That she was unfazed by what she had overheard the previous night. He had suspected deep within her was a steel forged of the disparaging remarks and cutting actions directed at her by those members of the ton, but he couldn’t have guessed she was this determined.
She resumed her seat. “Now then. While you break your fast, I will go over the arrangement you agreed to last evening upon your return.”
“Arrangement?”
Now her smile held a degree of something else, something calculating. “Yes, arrangement. I did have to wake you from your stupor. I do apologize for that.”
“You doused me with cold tea.” He didn’t know how he knew that, but suddenly, he understood why he was still damp.
She had the audacity to appear chagrinned. “Yes, there was that. I do apologize. However, I think we were able to come to a wonderful arrangement. Don’t you agree?”
Whatever this arrangement was, it seemed to placate her somehow, so he nodded along. “Yes, a wonderful arrangement.”
Now her face broke into a real smile, and he realized he’d just again agreed to whatever it was she had in mind.
“Splendid.” She got to her feet again. “I must finish packing, and there’s Henry to see to. One of the footman has taken him into the gardens for a romp. I must say the staff are rather enamored of him. I do hope the servants of Ashbourne Manor will feel the same.”
She was almost to the door before he remembered to stop her.
“Eliza, what arrangement have we come to?”
She turned quietly, her hands held calmly before her.
“You’ve agreed to do your part in producing an heir for the title.”
What little blood was left in his head drained immediately out of his body.
“I bed your pardon.”
She straightened, facing him fully, her head canted just enough to show she was enjoying this.
“You’ve agreed to visit my room every night until an heir and a spare to the Ashbourne title have been created at which time your duties are fulfilled, and you must never visit my room again.” She gave a shrug with a smile so tinged with sadness, it wrenched his heart. “It’s a wonderful arrangement, don’t you agree?”
He thought if he were to stand and go to her, wrap his arms around her and kiss her the way he had that day in the Ravenwood drawing room, she would dissolve directly under his touch. She was so carefully holding herself at that moment, he couldn’t bear to torture her any longer.
“Yes, I do agree.” He kept his tone low, and he could see understanding in her eyes. She knew he understood just how much this was costing her.
He wanted to say more. He wanted to get her to agree to more. He wanted her to know he was going to do his damndest to make her understand how much he wanted to be with her, how much he enjoyed being with her. But he knew right now was not the time for such truths. It would take time for her to heal from what she had heard, for her to trust him again if she had ever trusted him at all.
He used the chair to help him stand. “I should like to begin tonight when we arrive at Ashbourne Manor.”
She blinked, and he realized he’d startled her. So she hadn’t been quite convinced of his earnestness. A spark of something dark and instinctual burned low within him. He was going to enjoy this little arrangement as long as he kept his wits about him and didn’t do something foolhardy like fall in love with his wife.
“Tonight would be most agreeable.”
“Then we’re agreed.”
“Yes, agreed.”
If either of them used the word agree once more, they would be hauled to Bedlam.
She nodded. “I’ll leave you to your breakfast.”
He was pleased to see she stumbled the slightest bit as she left the room.
Chapter 8
She sat on the forward-facing bench, Henry perched at her side, and she settled her features into a mask of neutrality, prepared for Ashbourne to join her in the carriage.
It was hardly past noon, and the footmen had loaded the last of their trunks some moments before. She’d kept her carpetbag with her watercolors and travel writing desk in the compartment with her in hopes they’d distract her during the journey. She wasn’t sure how far Glenhaven and the Ashbourne seat were from London, but she was prepared to ignore absolutely everyone and everything for the duration.
She was still shaken by their encounter in the morning room earlier. While she had prepared herself for their first true interaction after learning of his hurtful plan, she wasn’t at all ready for his emotion-filled apology. She’d almost believed him.
However, she couldn’t quite believe he was sorry for what he had said. He was more likely he was sorry he had been overheard. It needn’t matter. She had no whimsical ideas of herself. She knew just how plain and unworthy she was. It was best that they didn’t flit around the subject. A straightforward marriage predicated by structure was much more to her liking.