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“He kissed me!”
“You allowed him.” Her friend rose and continued undoing her hair. She removed the small helmet that sat like a crown. “I will help you stop him from courting Irene if you require my assistance, but you must fight your attraction alone.”
She was right, and Elizabeth did not like it. “You were supposed to comfort me,” she complained.
“Comfort will not help you now, but the truth will.”
She sat on her bed and stared at the fire for a long while after Stella had gone. No man had ever shown her desire, and perhaps that was what had drawn her to Guildford. She had to fight this, and the only way she knew how was by allowing her dislike of him to dominate her thoughts.
She climbed out of her bed and went to her escritoire, where she sat and began to write everything she knew about him that made her dislike him. She had written two things when a knock sounded at her door.
“Come in,” she called. The door opened, and Irene stepped into her bedchamber. Her blue eyes gleamed in the candlelight, and her cheeks were flushed.
“I think the Marquess is very charming, Elizabeth,” she said. “Father was right. He might make me a good husband.”
No! He is not good for you, Irene!She wanted to say, but the words would not leave her lips, and her heart sank. Her work had become much more difficult than she had anticipated.
