Truce (Neighbor from Hell #4)(37)

It was funny after all these years that feelings she thought she felt so deeply as a child, love, was nothing more than infatuation. She had no doubt that he would make a fine husband. He was kind, funny and easy to talk with. If she had met him before that night in the orangery, she would have undoubtedly fallen in love with him in truth.

Unfortunately that wasn’t how things occurred. Even though she had no plans on marrying, she’d never planned to live her life by taking lovers. Every time she thought back on that night, she was filled with humiliation now instead of the precious gift she once thought it was. She’d only kissed one man in her life before that night and that had been a quick peck on the lips and she’d known who she’d been kissing at the time. Not only had she kissed a man that she hadn’t known, but she’d also given her innocence to him, freely.

The fact that it turned out to be Robert, who’d been the boy she hated more than anything on earth, only made it worse. She tried not to dwell on what he must think of her or what he would do with that piece of knowledge if she pushed him too far. Did he think that she did that often?

No matter what she did or said, she did care what he thought. That time they spoke as strangers was one of the most enjoyable times in her life. She’d never felt so relaxed or comfortable with another living soul as she had with him that night. They connected, really connected that night and she wasn’t thinking about when she’d made love with him, that had been very pleasurable, but the way he spoke to her, smiled, and listened had melted her heart.

She didn’t want to like him or crave his touch. This was Robert after all. He was the little boy who once placed honey on her pillow and pushed her into a muddy pond when they were children. In spite of everything, she longed to be with him, near him. She often found herself pacing the upstairs landing late at night in the hopes of hearing his deep voice. She was pathetic, utterly pathetic.

At least she fought her feelings, she reassured herself. She purposely avoided him whenever he was in the house, which was not very often. It seemed that he was only here to sleep. She often wondered where he went. Was he at a club? Visiting friends? A woman? She pushed the last thought out of her mind. She did not like to think of him with other women even though she most certainly did not want him for herself. Not at all. It was this silly “ghost” that was putting her on edge.

She checked the pillow next to hers. It looked slept on. The only explanation that she could come up with was that she’d rolled over onto that side sometime during the night, because the bedclothes on that side were also wrinkled. It was the only thing that made sense.

Something caught her eye as she pulled the sheets back. Frowning, she picked it up and examined the pocketknife. Her breath caught in her throat and her stomach churned. Desperate to ease her stomach, she reached out for the tepid tea Jane had left her and took a small sip. That small sip triggered something unholy in her stomach. She dropped the cup and all but ran for the chamber pot.

After several minutes she was able to sit up straight. Her stomach twisted with worry. She was late. Three weeks late to be exact. For the first week she’d thought it was the stress of her situation. It had happened before, but never for this long. Now she was sick in the mornings and sometimes during the day. She did her best to hide it, but soon someone was going to notice. Then her life would change forever.

“I’m fine,” Elizabeth mumbled to herself in the hopes that by saying it that it would somehow make it true. Her father had been putting off allowing her to visit her north estate, but no longer. He was going to let her go in a few days. He’d promised and this time she was going to hold him to his word. Until then she had to hold it together.

She walked back to the bed, hoping she could lie down for a few minutes so that her stomach would have a chance to settle down. Before she could lie down, the odor of the spilled tea hit her hard once again. She ran back in time to the pot and finished emptying her stomach. She was fine. Everything would be fine. Things would be fine, she told herself not really believing it for one second.

* * *
Robert pulled open one of the drawers on his side of the desk. He and Elizabeth had come to an unspoken understanding about sharing the library. They each had their own side of the desk and no one peeked. It was rather comfortable. She was just as neat as he was so he didn’t mind sharing the space.

He stared at the ledger in front of him without really seeing it. His body felt ripped in half. He desperately wanted to go back upstairs and crawl back in bed with Elizabeth. Four weeks and he was addicted to her. He couldn’t fall asleep in his own bed. He’d tried several times and each time he failed miserably. As if to prove his point, he would fall asleep almost immediately when his hand rested upon her hip.

This was bad. This was very bad. He needed her too much. His body yearned for her in every possible way. He enjoyed her quick wit and sharp tongue. She could be funny and he knew that she was kind. This was beyond horrible. He hated the woman. She was his enemy.

His enemy.

He was such an ass. This situation was intolerable. He couldn’t take it anymore. Every day he had to fight back the urge to punch the suitors that came calling. He had to sit back and watch James attempt to woo her. It killed him. Sometimes he would disappear all day and night only to come back to her like a sailor to a siren and curl up with her. He needed her more than his next breath, and he hated her for it. He hated this power she had over him. He was going to leave and soon for his own sanity.