Chapter Eleven
At twilight, Hugh headed off to pay his call on Eleanor. Since he knew she often dined with her parents, he was afraid she might not be home after the dinner hour commenced. He set off carrying a basket in one hand, with the kitten he’d chosen tucked into the crook of his other arm.
Candlelight shone from the windows of the cottage. His spirits leaped, even though he’d no idea how she would receive him. Ah well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He opened the gate, marched up to the door, and rapped lightly. Eleanor opened it, and for a moment, he thought she was going to slam it in his face.
He spoke before she had the chance. “Good evening, Eleanor. I wouldn’t blame you if you barred the door against me, but I was hoping you might allow me to apologize.” When she said nothing, he went further. “And explain.”
Hugh could see she was thinking it over, even though there wasn’t a hint of forgiveness in her hazel eyes, and her pretty lips didn’t curve even minutely. He didn’t blame her. He’d been an ass, after all. Finally, she relented. “I’ll come out. There’s really no room inside for us both to sit down.”
They claimed their usual spots on the bench. “And what’s that you’re holding, Sir Hugh?”
“That, Eleanor, is a fine specimen of female tabby cat fresh from weaning.”
“And you brought her here for what purpose, if I may ask?”
Hugh gently set the kitten in her lap. “Peace offering? Olive branch? You must admit, she’s a fair lady. Look at those green eyes.”
Eleanor picked her up and held her at a distance, looking her over. “She’s a beauty, I’ll grant you that, but I don’t need a cat, Hugh. I’ve already got one bothersome pet, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I haven’t. But they could be great friends.”
Eleanor plunked the kitten onto Hugh’s lap. “Enemies, more likely. I don’t think so.”
“But—”
“I was preparing to walk up to the house when you arrived. What did you come here to say, Hugh?”
Having hoped she would be more receptive, her abruptness of manner rather crushed him. Time to come to the point. “Look, Eleanor, I humbly ask your forgiveness for my behavior yesterday. It was unpardonably rude.”
“Then why should I forgive you?”
For a moment, Hugh was at a complete loss for words. And then he said what seemed like the truth to him. “I think you need a friend.”
Eleanor sighed. Deeply, obviously, so he couldn’t miss it. “And that would be you. The man who said, only yesterday, that I knew nothing about him and had no right to question him about…well, anything.”
“That is not precisely what I said. I was referring to my family. To Adam and Deborah.” The kitten had crawled over to Eleanor’s lap and was batting at the fringes on her shawl. While Hugh watched, the green-eyed little minx crawled up Eleanor’s bosom and made herself right at home. He hid a smile, thinking how he’d love to do the same.
“I see.” She attempted to lift the kitten from her person, but its claws were embedded in the bodice of her dress. No sooner did Eleanor pry one paw away than the other one stuck fast. She was flustered, and even in the dim light, he could discern a flush on her cheeks. When she glanced at him in befuddlement, his laugh barked out. She tried to look annoyed, but her eyes were laughing. “It’s not funny. My dress will be ruined.”
Still laughing, he said, “I beg your pardon. May I help?”
Eleanor narrowed her eyes at him, but said, “Please do.”
Hugh moved closer, turning so that he faced her. She held quite still, her hands at her sides. He would need to go slowly. Taking advantage of the situation would not serve, except to put him squarely in the category of overeager swain stealing liberties. Wrapping one hand around the kitten’s body, he began to pry her claws away with the other. He tried, but it was damned near impossible not to brush her breasts with the back of his hand.
He glanced at Eleanor. She was trembling. He could feel her breath on his face, and blood rushed to his cock. Sweet Jesus, this was torture. God, he’d love to kiss her…
“This is taking a long time, Hugh,” she said, though she giggled, breaking the spell.
“Apologies. Almost done.” He freed the kitten and set her on the ground. “My pardon for intruding on your evening, Eleanor. I apologize for my…” Try again, man. “My sincere pardon for what I said to you. I have a blind spot where my mother and Adam are concerned. When someone challenges me on it, I become somewhat irrational.”
The gloaming was fading to darkness, and it was hard to make out her features. But he sensed a softening of her demeanor. “Ah, at last we’re making progress. I won’t press you on it, Hugh, but you just admitted your attitude toward them is unreasonable.”
“From your perspective, I’m sure it’s difficult to comprehend. Permit me to say I’m working toward adjusting my attitude.”
Her eyes warmed. He could easily lose himself in those eyes. There wasn’t much he would not do to earn the sweet softness of that look.
“What is in the basket?”
It was such an abrupt change of subject, he wasn’t sure at first what she was talking about. “Ah. The basket.” He set it down. “Open it.”
She did, smiling when she saw the contents, which she removed one by one. A jug of milk. A saucer. A ball of catnip. “You were very sure I would accept your gift, Sir Hugh.” The kitten pounced on the ball, then rubbed against it.
“Will you?”
“She’ll wreak havoc inside, with the fabrics, trims, spools of thread, and the rest. I suppose I could keep her in the back room. And out here in the garden.”
“Good lord, I didn’t think of that. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”
She smiled wryly. “It’s all right. I accept your gift. Lili will love her.”
“Who is Lili?”
Her smile disappeared. “Minnie. I said Minnie, my assistant. She loves cats, and so does Jane.”
Hugh was quite sure she’d said Lili, but since he knew of no one by that name, he let it drop. “I’ll walk with you to your parents’ house if you’re ready.”
He thought she would protest, but instead she asked, “What about the kitten?”
Hugh opened the jug of milk and poured some into the saucer. “Leave her here in the garden. I’ll check on her on my way back to Longmere. She’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? She might be cold.”
“It’s a warm evening, and she’s a hardy little thing.”
“Wait one minute.” Eleanor hurried into the cottage and returned with a worn coverlet, which she placed on the bench. “There. She can curl up on that.”
“Ready?” Hugh asked.
Eleanor nodded and grasped the arm he held out for her.
…
Oh, damn and blast! What had she done? She’d gone and mentioned Lili by name, for pity’s sake. She hadn’t fooled him for a minute with her pathetic cover-up, but for whatever reason, he’d chosen not to inquire who Lili might be. Never had she let down her guard to such an extent. Not before Jane and Minnie or Cassandra Grey. It was second nature for her to never mention her daughter, but somehow Hugh had managed to disarm her so thoroughly with his kitten, she had forgotten herself.
Too late to worry about it now.
The evening was lovely, with a light breeze grazing their skin and muted animal sounds in the distance. Birds settling for the night, weasels prowling, raccoons scurrying through the grass. “The night is so alive, isn’t it?” she said. “I usually don’t have time to notice.”
“It is. Let’s hope we don’t scare up a skunk.” Just then, something scurried across their path. Eleanor let out a little shriek and grasped Hugh’s arm more firmly. “Only a bunny,” he said. “I was joking about the skunk. In all the years I’ve prowled these woods, I’ve never come across one.”
Somehow, she’d moved closer to Hugh, so that the length of her body on one side moved against his with every step they took. Eleanor knew it would serve her best to put more distance between them, but she didn’t want to. Touching him felt so good. Her body tingled with awareness and longing.
When he spoke, she was forced to emerge from her fog of desire. “Thank you for letting the topic of my family lie for now. It’s something I never discuss, and I’m not sure that will ever change.”
Eleanor was taken aback by this. Thanking her was almost as good as if he’d confided all. So she should respond in kind. “You were right about me, Hugh. I do need a friend. But even though friends confide in each other, they never make demands. They sense when the other person is ready to reveal things held close.”
They were approaching the stables and the rear of the house. Hugh stopped and, grasping her arms, spun her to face him. “You are a remarkable woman, Eleanor Broxton.” He leaned toward her, and she knew he was going to kiss her. And this time she would not stop him.
He pulled her close and slowly lowered his head. She felt as if she’d been waiting years for this, even though it had been just a few weeks since their kiss on the terrace. When his lips brushed hers at last, her knees begin to give. She slid her arms up and around his neck and pressed as close to him as she could. This was not wise, but clearly her heart had, for the time being, overruled her brain.
Now his kiss became more heated, more insistent. He stroked her lips with his tongue until she opened her mouth and allowed him in. Their tongues clashed, tasting, stroking, inviting. Jolts of desire shot through her, demanding and insistent. When Hugh gripped her bottom and drew her against him, the hard swell of his arousal pressed against her.
Abruptly, he pulled back, breathing hard. “Eleanor, if you don’t want this, walk away now, because I don’t think I can stop.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Hugh.”
He took her hand and led her off the path toward a giant old oak. In one move, he pushed her against it and claimed her mouth again. His hands were at her waist, then slid upward until they cupped her breasts. When she arched, he found the tips and gently rubbed them between his fingers.
He paused long enough to say, “This would only be improved if I could see you.”
Eleanor laughed. “Yes.” Her voice was raspy. In the next moment, Hugh had gathered her skirt in one hand and was pushing it up. Higher and higher, above her garter. His fingers moved toward her most intimate place, and that was exactly where she wanted them.
And then she heard voices. Worse yet, lanterns were bobbing along toward the path. “Hugh. Someone’s coming.”
“Christ almighty,” he said. “Your father must have been worried about you.” He picked up her shawl, which had fallen to the ground, and wrapped it around her shoulders. Lightly kissing her cheek, he whispered, “Good night, Eleanor. Go now.” His warm breath caressed her ear.
She hurried out onto the path, not daring to turn around and glance at Hugh, even though she sorely wanted to.
Eleanor lay wide awake in her small bed at the cottage. Her mother had wanted her to stay the night, practically demanded it, but Eleanor said she had to get back to feed Bobby and see to her new kitten. She’d been evasive about how she’d come into possession of a kitten.
During the meal, she’d conversed with her parents in a desultory fashion, because all she could think about was Hugh. His kiss, his hands caressing her body. How alive she’d felt. And that they’d forged a bond. She’d told him she needed a friend, and it was true. So deep in thought had she been, she nearly missed it when her mother said, “You spent quite a long time with Hugh Grey at the garden party, Eleanor. What was that about?”
She hadn’t anticipated the question, but she should have. A friend had offered to take Eleanor home from the party, because Kitty Broxton had not been ready to leave. Sick at heart over her squabble with Hugh, Eleanor had desperately wanted to escape, and so she’d accepted the offer. She hadn’t seen her mother yet today, so she should have known this was coming.
Between bites of pudding, she said “He is a friend. I’ve run into him several times since he’s been back, including the dinner party in Town.”
Her mother had given a slight frown. Eleanor had long ago coined a name for that expression. The fake puzzlement look. It was mean to mask disapproval, but failed on every level. “What, Mama? Is there a problem?”
“Like father, like son. That is the problem.” Her mother took a tiny sip of wine and dabbed at her lips with her napkin.
Remain calm, Eleanor. “An entirely unjust assessment, in my opinion. He is every bit the gentleman.”
“And he’s been knighted, don’t forget,” her father put in.
Her mother continued as though her husband hadn’t spoken. “Even Deborah Grey’s conduct is lacking. Leaving her home to live the life of a Society belle in London.” She clucked her tongue. “Very poor taste.”
“Enough, Kitty!” Sir William said. “You know perfectly well the woman had few alternatives.”
Eleanor glanced from one parent to the other. They were looking daggers at each other. What on earth…?
“Was it of no consequence to you, Eleanor, when he left you sitting alone on that bench by the lily pond? He seemed riled by something you said, dear.”
Aware that her mother was simply fishing for information, Eleanor was determined to reveal nothing. What occurred between herself and Hugh, past and present, was no one else’s business. “No. He needed to speak with someone.”
“I see. The various matrons and their offspring, I collect.”
Ignoring the sarcasm, Eleanor had changed the subject. “Did Papa tell you that Lili is sick? I’m worried about her. She has an earache.”
Surprisingly, that took her mother’s mind off Hugh. “You suffered terribly from them when you were a child.”
“You nursed me through them all. I remember sitting in your lap for hours in the nursery, and you rocking me and singing. I would give anything if I could do the same for Lili.”
Her mother had made no comment.
And now, in her lonely bed, Eleanor felt guilty that she’d been ruminating about Hugh all evening, hardly sparing a thought for her beloved child. She hoped Edith Abbot would have the sense to call a physician, if necessary, and contact her if Lili’s condition worsened. And that Jacob Abbot would stay out of it.
Sir William had escorted Eleanor back to the cottage. After he’d gone, she opened the door and glanced around the yard. It was ridiculous, but she’d been hoping Hugh would be there waiting for her. Her brain was growing addled, no doubt about it. She curled up on her side, said her prayers, and finally drifted off.