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“Adonis?” Good God, was that his voice? He’d never known he could sound so peevish.
“Face of an angel,” she elaborated. “Manners of an ox.”
He nodded, feeling much better. “Fellport.”
“Who?”
“Sir Bertram Fellport.”
“Ah. The one who drinks too much.”
“Precisely.”
“How do you know these people?”
“I told you, I used to mix in higher circles.”
“If you’re such good friends with these people, don’t you want to say hello?”
It was a good question, but James had a good answer. “And let them see how far I’ve fallen? Absolutely not.”
Elizabeth sighed. She knew precisely how he felt. She’d endured all the village whispers, the pointed fingers and titters. Every Sunday she brought her family to church, and every Sunday she sat ramrod straight, trying to act as if she wanted to dress her siblings in outdated frocks and breeches that were perilously worn in the knees. “We have a lot in common, you and I,” she said softly.
Something flickered in his eyes, something that looked like pain, or maybe shame. Elizabeth realized then that she had to leave, because all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around his shoulders and comfort him—as if a tiny woman like herself could somehow shield this big, strong man from the worries of the world.
It was ludicrous, of course. He didn’t need her.
And she needed not to need him. Emotion was a luxury she couldn’t afford at this point in her life.
“I’m going,” she said quickly, horrified by the tang of huskiness she heard in her voice. She hurried past him, wincing as her should
er brushed his arm. For the barest of seconds she thought he might reach out and stop her. She sensed him hesitate, felt him move, but in the end he just said, “I shall see you Monday?”
She nodded, and hurried out the door.
James stared at the empty doorway for several minutes. Elizabeth’s scent still hung in the air, a vague mix of strawberries and soap. Innocent stuff, to be sure, but it was enough to set his body tightening and make him ache for the feel of her in his arms.
In his arms, hell. Who was he trying to fool? He wanted her under him, surrounding him. He wanted her on top of him, beside him.
He just wanted her. Period.
What the hell was he going to do about her?
He’d already arranged to have a bank draft forwarded to her family—anonymously, of course. Elizabeth would never accept it otherwise. That ought to stop all this nonsense about her marrying the first able-bodied—and able-walleted—man she could get to propose.
But it would do nothing about the muddle he was in. When his aunt had chased him down earlier that afternoon and told him that Elizabeth had gone off with Dunford, he’d felt a rush of jealousy unlike anything he’d ever dreamed possible. It had squeezed around his heart, pounded through his blood, and left him half irrational, unable to think of anything other than getting Dunford out of Surrey and back to London.
London, hell. If he could have figured out a way to send Dunford to Constantinople he would have done it.
He was through trying to convince himself that she was just another woman. The thought of her in another man’s arms made him physically ill, and he was not going to be able to carry off this charade of finding her a husband much longer. Not when every time he saw her he was nearly overcome with the desire to haul her off into a closet and ravish her.
James groaned with resignation. It was becoming clearer to him every day that he was going to have to marry the chit. That was certainly the only avenue that would offer his mind and body any measure of peace.
But before he could marry her, he was going to have to reveal his true identity, and he couldn’t do that until he’d taken care of this blackmail business for Agatha. He owed his aunt this much. Surely he could put aside his own needs for one measly fortnight.
And if he couldn’t solve this riddle within a fortnight—well, then, he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do. He sincerely doubted he could last much longer than two weeks in his current state of distress.
With a loud and unapologetic curse, he turned on his heel and strode outside. He needed some fresh air.
