The Lady Confesses

chapter Ten

‘There is no need to look quite so stricken, Elizabeth,’ Nathaniel murmured as he stood beside the fireplace, the force of their lovemaking, and the pain from his now aching ribs rendering him completely sober. He had righted his pantaloons in the past few minutes and pulled on his shirt to leave it hanging loosely over the top of them to hide his still-burgeoning arousal. No doubt it would remain that way for some time to come!

‘How can I not be stricken?’ Elizabeth had refastened her gown, but her curls were still in disarray and her face was now flushed with mortification. She could not even meet his gaze as she stood across the room from him. ‘What if Mrs Wilson had decided to come into the library to say goodnight to you?’

‘She did not,’ Nathaniel said soothingly.

‘But—’

‘There are enough things to worry about tonight, without troubling yourself over something that did not happen,’ he said wryly, reaching for his brandy glass and downing the contents in one swallow, welcoming the burning sensation down his throat before that warmth hit his stomach.

Elizabeth breathed in indignantly. ‘Of course I must trouble myself—what things…?’ she prompted warily as the rest of his comment obviously pierced that indignation.

Nathaniel eyed her with a touch of exasperation. ‘Such as how we are to continue here together in future.’

‘Continue?’

‘Really, Elizabeth…’ he sighed ‘…you are not usually so lacking in intelligence.’

‘I am not in the least lacking in intelligence now, my lord—’

‘Call me Nathaniel!’ he ordered as he moved forwards suddenly. Only to come to an abrupt halt as she instantly took a step away from him. His eyes narrowed. ‘Have I shocked you so much you are now frightened to even be near me?’

It was not Nathaniel whom Elizabeth was frightened of, but her own responses to him!

As for being shocked? How could she not be shocked at her own forwardness? How could she not wish to run away to her bedchamber and hide beneath the covers on her bed at the thought of the intimacies they had just shared? That she had allowed herself to indulge in?

For self-indulgence it had certainly been to give in to the desire she had known to not only touch Nathaniel with her hands, but with her lips and tongue… Elizabeth could still taste him now, that addictive, salty-sweet taste. Could still feel the velvet softness of his skin as it encased the long and throbbing length of his arousal, a living, moving entity almost beyond his control.

All of it so much…different, to what Elizabeth had imagined it might be. And all of her behaviour was so shocking to herself that she could not even look Nathaniel in the eye, but instead concentrated her gaze somewhere over his left shoulder. ‘I will tell Mrs Wilson first thing tomorrow that I must leave her employment—’

‘Why must you?’ he demanded.

Now Elizabeth did look at him, her heart faltering in her chest at the coldness of his expression as he looked down the length of his aristocratic nose at her. Looking so unlike the man who had made love to her only minutes ago and who had become lost in the pleasure of her hands and mouth upon his body…

She looked quickly away again, her face aflame with memories of those intimacies. ‘One of us must leave—’

‘If that is true—’

‘You surely cannot doubt it!’

‘—then surely that one should be me?’ Nathaniel finished coolly.

Elizabeth gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘Mrs Wilson would far rather her nephew remain here than the young woman she hired as companion to her dog.’

‘I would not be too sure of that if I were you,’ Nathaniel drawled. ‘I have no doubt that my aunt loves me, but she adores Hector!’ he added drily in answer to her questioning glance.

He had meant to make her smile—instead, those deep blue eyes filled up with tears. This was a mess to be sure, Nathaniel accepted heavily, at the same time as he accepted he was the one to blame for it. Bad enough that he had touched Elizabeth so intimately, but to have encouraged her to return those intimacies, by undoing his pantaloons and guiding her hands onto his naked body, was surely unforgivable!

The shocked bewilderment on her pale young face surely attested to that…

Nathaniel released a heavy sigh. ‘I will explain to my aunt in the morning that business necessitates I leave Hepworth Manor immediately.’


‘She will then wonder why did you not mention it this evening,’ Elizabeth pointed out.

His mouth thinned. ‘To which I shall reply that I am unaccustomed to having to explain myself. To anyone,’ he added grimly.

Elizabeth gave a wan smile. ‘Your aunt is not just anyone. Neither is she accustomed to being refused.’

Nathaniel could not miss the emphasis on the word she. Neither could he deny the claim; his Aunt Gertrude was indeed a formidable and forthright woman who would demand more explanation than he might wish to give. He also realised his aunt still had concerns over his injuries, despite them starting to heal nicely.

What a tangle. What an awful mess this was, to be sure. Maybe if he had not been so angry with Elizabeth for having changed her mind concerning accompanying Tennant on a drive tomorrow, then he would not have drunk the brandy, would not have encouraged her to come into the library at all, would not have kissed and caressed her, before encouraging her to do the same to him—

Damn it, yes, he would! Nathaniel knew he would have done all of those things whether or not he had imbibed brandy; the fact that he was now completely sober showed he had not drunk anywhere near enough brandy to blame his behaviour on that. He had wanted to make love to Elizabeth, had wanted her to make love to him in return.

God, the way she had kissed and caressed him…

Nathaniel had never experienced anything like it in his life before. Oh, he had been with women during his years in the army, and since, all of whom were experienced in every way there was to give pleasure to a man, but never before had he felt such uninhibited pleasure at the hands and mouth of an innocent young lady.

Never had he been so lost in pleasure, so out of control in a lady’s presence that he was in danger of releasing himself into the heated moistness of her mouth!

And he had been in danger of doing exactly that, he acknowledged self-disgustedly. Had been on the very brink of losing all control when he’d been brought to his senses so abruptly by his relatives’ voices.

Just looking at Elizabeth’s mouth now, imagining those soft and delectable lips about his shaft, was enough to make him pulse and ache anew, warning him that he must leave here as soon as was possible, if for no other reason than to find a woman, an experienced woman, to ease that ache before he made a fool of himself again!

He turned away from even looking at the enticement of Elizabeth’s pouting pink lips. ‘I will speak with my aunt in the morning and make my excuses.’

‘I really wish you would not, my—Nathaniel,’ she corrected swiftly as he shot her another scowling glance. ‘I had not intended my employment with Mrs Wilson to be of long duration in any case.’

Dark eyes narrowed. ‘Why not?’

Elizabeth frowned at him. ‘I do not have to explain my reasons to you—Nathaniel!’ she gasped as he crossed the room in two long strides to take a firm grasp of her arm.

‘Do not “Nathaniel” me in that recriminating tone.’ He looked at her intently. ‘If you leave here tomorrow, where will you go? To whom will you go?’ he added suspiciously.

She met his accusing gaze calmly. ‘Once I leave here it will be none of your business where I choose to go.’

His mouth compressed. ‘Or to whom?’

‘Exactly.’ Elizabeth nodded.

He raised arrogant blond brows. ‘I think you underestimate my powers of persuasion.’

‘I think you underestimate my own ability to withstand that persuasion, my lord,’ she came back just as firmly, her expression defiant as she deliberately freed herself from his grasp.

He released a frustrated breath. ‘I refuse to allow you to just leave here without saying where and to whom you will be going.’

‘You do not have the right to refuse me anything,’ she insisted vehemently.

This young woman was going to be the death of him, Nathaniel decided grimly. The slow and agonising death of him!

How could it be any other way, when she pleasured him to the heights of release one minute, before then sweeping him to the depths of frustrated impatience the next? When just the thought of her disappearing as completely and as suddenly as she had entered his life was enough to throw him, a man who rarely if ever lost his temper, into a state of such dissatisfaction it could not be called anything else but that?

For all that he might now play the part of the fashionable man about town, his years in the army had made him a man accustomed to action; Elizabeth’s decision to disappear back from whence she had come, with no intention of telling him or anyone else where that might be, rendered him totally impotent. A situation that was totally unacceptable, to both the soldier and the earl.

He looked down at her between narrowed lids. ‘Perhaps in that you are right, Elizabeth.’

‘Of course I am right—’

‘I am, however,’ he continued firmly, ‘completely at liberty to tell my aunt that my actions this evening are the reason for your decision to leave her employment.’

Elizabeth gasped in horror. ‘You would not!’

‘I believe you know me better than to believe that,’ he drawled.

Elizabeth knew this man more thoroughly, more intimately, than any other man alive! As he had said, that was the whole point of her decision to leave Hepworth Manor—it was because of the intimacy that had just occurred between them that she could not stay.

‘Why would you do such a thing?’ She glared up at him.

He shrugged. ‘I will know myself to be wholly responsible if you leave here so rashly and find yourself in difficulties. And I find guilt is not an emotion that sits easily upon my shoulders.’

And they were such broad shoulders too, Elizabeth acknowledged privately. Broad and muscled shoulders that she had moments ago caressed and—Lord, she must stop this! Must put those intimacies firmly from her mind or she would send herself mad thinking about them.

She straightened proudly. ‘You would only succeed in shaming us both if you were to tell Mrs Wilson of the real reason for my departure.’

Nathaniel became very still, his expression unreadable. Shame them? Elizabeth considered their lovemaking to be shameful? Ill-advised, perhaps, even shocking in its intensity, but shameful? No, unlike her, he did not consider their time together as being in the least shameful. But perhaps she was looking for more from him?

His mouth twisted. ‘Do you expect to hear my name, rather than Tennant’s, read out in connection with yours at church on Sunday?’

Elizabeth gasped. ‘I beg your pardon?’

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at her. ‘A single word of tonight’s events in the right ear—Viscount Rutledge’s, perhaps?—and I would be expected to make an offer for you.’

Elizabeth drew herself up haughtily. ‘I have no intention of my name being read out in church on Sunday in connection with either you or Sir Rufus.’

This young woman never ceased to surprise him, Nathaniel realised ruefully. Most women in her circumstances, when faced with the choice of casting herself back out into the capriciousness of the world, or the possibility of compromising an earl into marriage, would surely have chosen the latter. Not so Elizabeth…

‘Now if you will excuse me…’ She turned to leave.

‘Elizabeth!’

She turned slowly, unwillingly to face him, her chin nevertheless proudly high. ‘There is nothing more to be said, Nathaniel.’

There was much that still could, and should, be said, he acknowledged honestly. But he knew this was not the right time, with emotions still running so high.

He nodded curtly. ‘We will talk again in the morning.’

‘I will be leaving in the morning,’ she announced emphatically.

‘And what of your carriage ride with Tennant in the afternoon?’ Nathaniel asked quietly. ‘Sir Rufus will no doubt be very disappointed if you send him a note informing him that not only are you not accompanying him, but that you are leaving the area completely.’

In truth, Elizabeth had forgotten all about Sir Rufus Tennant and her agreement to go for a carriage ride with him tomorrow afternoon.

Of course she had forgotten him; Elizabeth defied any woman not to have forgotten such a plain and uninteresting man as Sir Rufus Tennant after knowing the pleasure of Nathaniel Thorne’s lovemaking!

‘I am sure Sir Rufus will perfectly understand.’

‘Somehow I doubt that very much,’ Nathaniel drawled. ‘I have never seen a man quite so set upon capturing a woman’s affections.’

‘You are deliberately exaggerating his interest in me in order to cause me embarrassment.’ Elizabeth’s face was flushed with displeasure.

No…Nathaniel did not feel he was in the least exaggerating Tennant’s single-minded interest in her. In fact, he did not believe he had ever seen another man quite as determined in his pursuit as Tennant was with regard to Elizabeth these past few days. Well, her decision to leave Devonshire would at least remove her from that cloyingly unpleasant situation…

‘If you choose to think so,’ Nathaniel said curtly.

‘I do,’ she stated firmly before once again turning to leave the room.

Nathaniel watched her go, his expression thoughtful as he turned back to gaze down at the fire. His behaviour tonight had not only been ill-advised, but recklessly out of character, to the point that it would have been completely his own fault if Elizabeth had been the type of young woman to take advantage of the situation and demand that he marry her forthwith. Much to the delight of the gossiping and malicious old biddies of the ton, no doubt; the Earl of Osbourne trapped into marriage by a young lady without money or title!


He should be feeling both relieved and thankful at his narrow escape, but instead of that relief Nathaniel found he could only remember that Elizabeth had denounced their lovemaking as being shameful…



‘—simply cannot understand what can have happened to him!’ A distraught and anxious Mrs Wilson paced the cavernous hallway of Hepworth Manor the following morning, her face pale and lined, revealing every one of her three-and-forty years of age.

She was totally justified in her distress, Elizabeth acknowledged with a heavy heart; Hector had been allowed outside into the garden by one of the footmen whilst the ladies and Lord Thorne had finished breaking their fast, only for that young man to find absolutely no sight nor sound of the little dog when he went back outside to collect him only a few minutes later.

A comprehensive search of the grounds by several of the footmen and housemaids had not improved that situation, until the butler had felt he had no choice but to come into the breakfast room and inform his mistress of Hector’s disappearance.

Nathaniel had risen to his feet immediately, ordering his horse to be saddled as he first comforted his aunt before swiftly quitting the house.

The earl had been gone for almost an hour now, with Mrs Wilson becoming more and more distressed with every minute that passed…

Not, Elizabeth accepted, the ideal time for her to inform her employer of her decision to leave this morning. Not the day for such an announcement, in fact, when no doubt Mrs Wilson would become prostrate with relief once the little dog was found.

If he was found…

What no one had so far mentioned—would dare to mention in Mrs Wilson’s hearing—were the steep and rocky cliffs that bordered the grounds of Hepworth Manor. Cliffs that would be deadly if a little dog like Hector were to accidentally fall over one of them.

And so for the moment Elizabeth was keeping her own counsel with regard to her decision to leave, knowing there was no possibility of her deserting Mrs Wilson in her hour of need when that lady had been so kind to her.

Instead she paced the hallway at that lady’s side as she murmured soothing words of comfort and reassurance. ‘Lord Thorne will find him, I am sure.’

‘But what if—yes! Yes, of course, dear Nathaniel will find him.’ Mrs Wilson drew herself up determinedly. ‘He will return shortly, no doubt with an abashed Hector in his arms.’

It was Elizabeth’s dearest wish that this should prove to be the case. She had grown as fond of Hector these past two weeks as she was of Mrs Wilson; indeed, she could not think of one without the other.

‘Do stop snivelling, Letitia!’ Mrs Wilson told her cousin irritably as that lady sat on a chair beside the front door sobbing into a lacy handkerchief. ‘It serves no purpose whatsoever and is only succeeding in making your eyes and nose exceedingly red.’

‘But I feel so responsible.’ The older woman continued to sob inconsolably. ‘I should have gone outside with Hector. Should have—’

‘Do not be ridiculous, Letitia.’ Mrs Wilson sighed. ‘Hector is six years old, has stayed here many times and has never before wandered off on his own in this way when let out first thing in the morning.’

Which was all perfectly true; the footman always let the little dog outside first thing in the morning and Elizabeth took Hector for a longer walk once the two of them had eaten their breakfast. For Hector not to have even returned for that breakfast was unusual in itself; the little dog loved food almost as much as he loved his doting mistress.

Elizabeth, after spending a virtually sleepless night in her bedchamber, had not had any appetite for her own breakfast this morning, too disturbed by her behaviour with Nathaniel in the library the evening before to be able to think of eating.

Not that there had been any evidence of that disturbing incident on Nathaniel’s handsome face and appearance this morning as he ate his way through a large cooked breakfast and drank several cups of tea whilst conversing lightly with his aunt about mutual acquaintances.

He had even spoken to Elizabeth twice, once to comment that she was looking rather pale this morning, and the other to request that she pass him the sugar bowl. The first she had completely ignored, and the second she had done without replying.

Mrs Wilson drew in a shaky breath. ‘What can be keeping Nathaniel?’

Presumably his inability to find Hector, Elizabeth acknowledged worriedly. Quite what Mrs Wilson would do if the earl returned without the little dog—

All the ladies turned anxiously towards the door as a loud knock sounded on the other side of it, accompanied by what sounded distinctly like Hector’s familiar bark.