Page 51 of The Earl’s Marriage of Convenience

Eliza stepped back at once, her gaze flying to the doorway, noting that Pere had spoken before she had even entered the room. Pere stood there in the doorway, her expression caught somewhere between astonishment and understanding.

“Well,” she continued, blinking as she took in the scene, “why do I feel as though I have just interrupted something?” Her gaze moved from Eliza to Edwin, then back again. “I have questions,” she added thoughtfully. “I do not require answers—but I do have them.” She hesitated slightly, as though searching for the proper phrasing. “However … if I am interpreting this correctly—and I believe I am—then something must be decided. Because I was not previously aware that this was … a situation.”

The word seemed to fail her.

“Do you require a moment?” she asked, glancing toward the door, then back again, clearly uncertain whether leaving would be wise.

Eliza could scarcely think.

Her mind returned again and again to a single thought—

What have I done?

Her gaze darted to Edwin.

His expression reflected her own disarray.

He stepped back. “No,” he said quietly. “You may remain. Lady Eliza is in need of your comfort.” There was the faintest hesitation on the last word. “I will take my leave.”

He paused only briefly, his gaze lingering on her as though searching for something he could not quite resolve.

Then, with a crisp bow, he turned and departed.

Eliza watched him go.

Only after the door closed did she turn back to Pere.

“And to think,” she said faintly, “I believed matters had already become complicated.”

Pere crossed the room and drew her into a gentle embrace. “Oh, my dear,” she murmured softly, “if there is one certainty in life, it is this—things may always become more so.”

Chapter Nineteen

Edwin was not entirely certain what he had done with the past two days.

He only knew that it had been both inevitable and necessary that he attend the Smith ball that evening. So, with no more clarity than when he had begun, he dressed in his evening clothes, entered his carriage, and prepared to continue his courtship of Lady Molly.

What had possessed him to kiss Eliza?

All of his carefully laid plans were now at risk.

He had avoided Hawthorne House entirely since the moment he left it after that stolen encounter. He had half expected Pere to call upon him and deliver a well-deserved reprimand, but even she had remained silent. That, perhaps, should have unsettled him more than anything. Yet he found himself incapable of entertaining additional emotion. He was already full to the brim with confusion.

What had occurred in the library could not happen again.

Of that, he was certain.

And yet, he owed Eliza an apology. More than that—he owed her clarity. They were both walking separate paths. She pursued Langshire in earnest, and he had every intention of offering for Lady Molly.

It had to have been a moment of madness.

There could be nothing more to it. No future could be carved from such behavior.

He knew this. He could reason it, articulate it, defend it—

And still, some part of him refused to accept it.

That, above all, troubled him most.