The Blue Drawing Room by Erin Rye

Author:Erin Rye [Rye, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B073X5XYB1
Publisher: Scarsdale Publishing, Ltd
Published: 2017-07-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Soft as Candlelight

Eliza stood rooted to the spot, her lips still burning from his touch. What was he doing to her? Their social positions set them worlds apart. He knew that. Why toy with her like this? She looked down at Oliver sleeping in his bed, clutching the apron to his chest. He was tempting her because he was a man. Charlotte and Oliver were evidence of his rakish ways. Her heart softened. Yet, time and again, she’d witnessed his honorable, gentle side and, unlike many men of his station, he was taking responsibility for his illegitimate offspring, even if it was late in the game.

Given his smoldering looks and magnetism, she was honestly surprised he hadn’t fathered more than these two children. He had merely to walk into the room and her heart skipped a beat. He’d turned her insides molten hot when he’d waltzed her across the nursery room floor. Just the memory of his lips on her forehead sent butterflies skittering across the insides of her stomach.

She released a sigh. Why torture herself like this? The devil with that. She wanted him to kiss her, crush her to his chest, and… Her head whirled with thoughts of him gently laying her on his bed and coming down on top of her. Her heart beat fast. This had to end. He was her employer—nothing more.

Eliza tucked the covers more closely around Oliver before checking on Meg and Charlotte. She found them fast asleep. She padded about the nursery for a time, setting things to rights, and then banked the fire for the night. When she was done, she dusted her hands and started toward her room, but stopped when the nursery door creaked open.

Her heart leapt. Alistair? Unable to stop the smile, she took a step toward the door. The smile died on her lips.

Captain Edwards, coatless and swaying on his feet, entered.

“Sacre-bleu,” she swore. “Why are you here?”

“Why elshe?” he slurred the word.

“You’re drunk,” she said in disgust.

As he stumbled toward her, she retreated. “Leave, now.” She pointed to the door.

“Leave? You need me.”

“The devil I do. Get out.”

He lurched forward and seized her by the waist.

“Get your hands off me!” Eliza batted his chest.

He drove her backwards. Her back hit the wall. Pain lanced through her left shoulder blade. Fear spiked, but she forced a hard voice. “Don’t be a fool.”

“You want me,” he whispered hoarsely. “You’re my mistress, Eliza. Come to bed.”

“Your mistress?” He’d gone mad. “I am not your mistress.”

His fingers dug into her shoulders. Eliza twisted in an effort to break free. He grabbed her chin, forcing her mouth upward and mashed his mouth against hers. Bile rose. Tears threatened.

Think, she ordered herself. Think. Steeling her nerves, Eliza willed her muscles to relax and she started to fall. She ripped her mouth from his and drove her forehead into his nose. A sharp pain stabbed deep into her skull. The captain yowled and stumbled back, clutching his nose.

Eliza’s vision blurred. She glimpsed the poker leaning against the hearth.

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