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Authors: Emma Wildes

Our Wicked Mistake (31 page)

BOOK: Our Wicked Mistake
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“It has?” She’d come to talk about Miles, but having Regina introduce the subject in such a way still startled her.
“Think about it. He’s always been rather in your pocket, hasn’t he?”
“We were children together,” Elizabeth said loyally. “He is a little older, so naturally he watched out for me.”
“Certainly, when you were younger. I’d say, though, that he
watches
you is more appropriate now.”
If she didn’t think that was exactly true, Elizabeth wouldn’t be sitting in her sister’s rather eclectic drawing room at this very moment. She got to her feet in a con vulsive movement and walked over to stare blankly at what appeared to be a drawing of—of all things—an In dian elephant, long trunk, tusks, and all. It was actually a very striking piece. She confessed quietly, “He kissed me.”
“Good for him. How was it?”
When she turned around, Elizabeth was blushing. “How do I know how it was? I’ve never been kissed before.”
“I don’t know if prior experience is a prerequisite for knowing if a kiss takes your breath away or not.”
Surely Regina, with her lustrous dark hair and voluptuous figure, had attracted her share of men. Elizabeth had always been curious as to why her half sister never married. Legitimate or not, she was the daughter of a viscount.
“I might have been a bit breathless,” she confessed. “It hardly helped that Luke saw us and came outside. He ordered me to go into the house. I have no idea what he said to Miles, but now Miles is staying away from me.”
“And you miss him.” It was put forth as a statement.
Did she? Yes, absolutely. She nodded. “So . . . what should I do?”
“You are assuming I’m not just older, but actually wiser.” Regina’s brow quirked upward. “I know I am one, but not sure of the other, not when it comes to men. However, I can offer an opinion, if you want it.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“It depends on what you want, Liz. What is most important? Titles? Money? Social standing?”
“None of that.” She said it firmly, and it was true.
“Do you believe in your heart Miles can make you happy? He certainly seemed a perfect companion when you were children. No one could keep you apart. Friendship like that is different from romance, but if you could combine the two . . . I think it might be miraculous indeed.”
Miraculous.
She could still remember the feathering of his lips against hers, and the warm, possessive clasp of his hands.
“It might be.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “But you still haven’t told me what to do. I don’t . . . well, I have no idea how to
approach
this.”
“Darling,” Regina drawled dryly, “you know him better than anyone. From what I understand just from this conversation, it will take very little to convince Miles that if he wishes to declare his ardent devotion, you would be receptive to his suit.”
“He’s hardly ardently devoted.”
Or was he? Elizabeth knew she’d never forget his poignant expression when they broke apart.
“The only way to know for sure,” Regina said with absolute conviction, “is to talk to him about it.”
The last time she’d tried talking to him, it hadn’t worked at all. Instead, he’d kissed her.
Actually, she realized, that was a good argument for trying it again.
 
Luke watched his sister adjust her ivory silk glove at the elbow, not sure whether to be amused or to rally at the side of his fellow male.
“All I ask,” Elizabeth said succinctly, “is a few min utes alone with him.”
“Most guardians,” he said, cognizant that most guard ians of innocent young ladies didn’t have his reputation, “find it their designated duty to prevent their vulnerable charges from falling into the clutches of ill intentioned suitors.”
“Is Miles someone you’d ever think has ill intentions? Did he talk to you about it? What did you say to him? How—”
He held up a hand to halt the volley of eager ques tions. “Elizabeth, stop.”
She did, but she looked very young, standing there by the side of his desk, dressed for the evening in a gown made of some shimmering silver material Luke was sure would bring Miles to his knees. As an older brother, Luke wanted to challenge his mother’s judgment for ap proving something so revealing. Not that it was really less than demure, he had to grudgingly admit, but Eliza beth was his
sister
, and he’d have preferred a garment that buttoned up to her throat, and maybe even a veil tossed in to the ensemble.
It was somewhat different to be on the other side of the equation. He’d seen the looks Madeline’s mother and aunt had given him when he joined them at the op era that fateful evening.
He’d have to consider his own situation later. Right now Elizabeth stood there, waiting.
His sister’s expectant gaze made him think about Miles’s similarly tortured expression and ask himself how relationships between men and women could be so confoundedly complicated. He was growing more and more aware of it by the moment. With effort he sum moned a bland expression. “Why do you so urgently wish to talk to Miles?”
“Regina suggested I should.”
“Did she, now?” How the devil had their older sis ter gotten dragged into this? Though come to think of it, he’d asked Regina’s advice on the matter and she’d blithely admitted suspecting Miles’s infatuation for quite some time. “I wasn’t aware she’d called.”
“She didn’t. I went to see her.” Elizabeth tilted up her chin just a fraction. “Mother doesn’t know, though I can’t see why it makes a difference when she is invited here quite often.”
He privately agreed, but while their family—even their mother—accepted Regina, society wasn’t quite as forgiving of her birth, and maybe even less so of her un conventional lifestyle. Besides, Elizabeth shouldn’t be going out unchaperoned anywhere. “If you wish to call on her, I have no objection, but allow me to accompany you next time.”
A rebellious glimmer flashed in her eyes, but after a moment she nodded. Elizabeth said, “Can we get back to my request, please? I’ve barely seen Miles since . . . well,
since
, and I agree with Regina: I think we need to talk to each other.”
Since
meant since that tender kiss he’d happened to glance up and witness from the open window of his study. She was right, of course. They definitely needed to talk to each other, but only once Luke knew for certain what Elizabeth wanted. He’d stood politely when she’d entered the room, and he indicated a chair. “Sit down, if you please. While I won’t say exactly what he told me the other afternoon, I do promise I have the well-being of you both in mind.”
“You sound so formal.” Elizabeth sighed, but she did take one of the wing chairs, folding her hands in her lap. “This shouldn’t be about well-being. It should be about . . . love.”
There. She’d said it. Out loud.
Love.
This was the point where he should ask her outright if she loved Miles, but he already knew the answer—he’d known it for some time. Still, his knowing it and
her
knowing it were two different aspects of the situation. “I don’t pretend to be eloquent on the subject, but do you love Miles? Or is it possible you are confusing an old friendship with a new one?”
“Do you love Lady Brewer?”
The question took him aback and he sat silent, just looking at Elizabeth.
“It seems as fair as you asking me,” she murmured, upright and poised in the chair, but her jaw jutted outward at just enough of an angle that he recognized a fight when he had one on his hands.
Besides, she, infernally, had a point.
“I’m in charge of your future,” he countered, ruefully aware of how pompous that sounded. In his defense, he hadn’t asked for the responsibility; it had just fallen to him. “It gives me the right to inquire about your feelings.”
“And I am in charge of no one’s future, not even my own?”
“You’re wrong, Elizabeth. Please give me due credit for caring about not just your well-being, but also your happiness.”
“I do.” Her lashes fluttered down and she lowered her head to stare at her clasped hands for a moment. “And I suppose I don’t know exactly how to answer you. About Miles, I mean. Isn’t falling in love supposed to be accompanied by a great deal of heart pounding and flirtation and fanfare?”
“I don’t know.” That was frank and honest. What had happened with Maria had been quite different from his feelings for Madeline. He’d ceased trying to deny the latter, but still struggled to define it. “I think each ex perience is probably unique to the man and woman in volved,” he said quietly. “I also believe trying to analyze it is an exercise in futility. Poets have attempted since time out of mind, and I haven’t noticed a true definition yet. The question you need to be asking yourself is how Miles fits into your life.”
“Arrange for me to talk to him, and perhaps I
can
answer it.”
“He has a modest living at best.” Luke felt compelled to point it out.
“And no title.” Her flippant tone told him she didn’t care, and her gaze was now very direct.
Their mother might care, though. And unless Eliza beth was sure, maybe she would eventually wonder if she could have married better, though Luke was con vinced Miles would make enough of a success of himself to invest in his venture.
He wouldn’t mind seeing Elizabeth settled, and surely she could do worse than a young man with integrity and honor who adored her.
“How do you wish for me to arrange this meeting?”
“Short of creeping into his room in the middle of the night, I don’t see how I can even snatch a few moments. He’s deliberately staying away.” Her glimmering look told Luke his sister had something in mind.
Poor Miles. He didn’t stand a chance against such de liberate female determination.
“Creeping into his room in the wee hours isn’t an op tion I approve of.” Luke leaned back and crossed his arms. “What other venue do you have in mind?”
“Rather a thorny barrier, isn’t it? Hence my presence here. If he can avoid me, he will, and I sense it is your fault.”
“I never told him to stay away from you.”
“Then you won’t mind arranging for a chance for us to talk alone. As I said before, something private, please.”
He registered the firmness in her tone and thought about Madeline, with her serene confidence yet yielding femininity. He wondered sometimes if males were as in command of the world as they thought they were. “I’ll see what I can do,” he agreed.
“Thank you.” Elizabeth rose in a swirl of silken skirts. She hesitated and then came around his desk unexpect edly and hugged him. Her eyes were bright with tears. “I’m terribly nervous about this. Who would think? It’s just Miles, after all.”
When she left, Luke slumped in his chair, gazing at the empty hearth of the fireplace.
Are you in love with Lady Brewer?
The candid question had come out of nowhere, or perhaps it hadn’t. Naturally his family would be curi ous. His mother had made no secret of it. Elizabeth, at nineteen, had a romantic view of the way it all worked, of course.
He’d naively thought he could keep the affair be tween himself and Madeline. He should have been more worldly. Lady Brewer was completely unlike his usual casual bed partners.
And there it was. As he sat there, he realized it
was
between them, but neither did it stand alone. She had a past. A son.
He
had a past.
A secret.
Chapter Twenty-three
 
 
 
H
e was doing it again. Not particularly well either, but as luck would have it, as far as he could tell, no one was paying any attention to him or his clandestine observation.
Certainly Elizabeth didn’t seem to notice his covert surveillance.
Miles edged past the French doors on the terrace, pretended great interest in the drinks table when he hadn’t had a drop in the past week, and surreptitiously shot a look at the dance floor. She whirled gracefully in a circle of silver silk that exactly matched her eyes, and he simply couldn’t look away.
Even if she was in the arms of another man. It had been foolish, probably, to go ahead and attend the ball.
“Whiskey?”
Miles glanced up sharply, caught fairly in the act. Luke stood there, his smile bland.
“No, thanks,” he muttered.
“I might like one,” his cousin suggested, his tone dry.
“Oh.” Miles glanced down and found a glass, picked up one of the bottles, and dashed some liquid in it.
“I haven’t seen you much lately.” Luke accepted the glass but didn’t drink. “Your valet told me you had dressed for the evening. I hoped I’d see you here. You’ve been conspicuously absent lately.”
It was true they lived in the same residence but hadn’t crossed paths. The two of them currently had completely different schedules, though, ironically enough, for the same reason.
BOOK: Our Wicked Mistake
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