The Electrifying Exploits of the English Three. Elysabeth Williams
remember correctly, I called you that after finding you in my study with your rump in the air. Which reminds me, why exactly were you in there?”
Eliza swallowed hard and thought fast, taking a step backward and lowering her arms. “My shoe came unbuttoned and I had to attend to it.”
Silas narrowed his eyes at her and sat in a chair, pulling her onto his lap. “Why would you need to attend your own shoe, lady?”
She swept her hands dramatically. “Hello, Silas Willoughby, welcome to my home. I do everything myself. Positively everything. I know such a thing is completely unheard of in your position–but in my home I am the lady, the man, the maid, the cook and butler. Though annoying at times, it does have its high points.”
“What high points are those, Miss?” He pressed his hips upward, making his point known. She grinned and lowered her lashes.
“There are fewer ears in the home to repeat my business needlessly.”
“Ah, I see. Well, my most humble apologies. I hope the ‘man’ part of the list of duties is at least satisfying.”
Eliza’s smile spread wide over her face. “I know I do leave something to be desired, but I try my hardest to accommodate.”
“Perhaps you need someone to...fill in the gaps, as it were.” Silas brushed a stray lock of hair from her shoulder and kissed her neck. Eliza smiled and closed her eyes.
* * * *
His hangover dawned just as the sun broke through the horizon. Silas rubbed his temples and quietly shut the door behind him. Starting down the sidewalk, he pulled an envelope from his vest pocket. The note had been found in his study yesterday. Eliza must have been digging for it while she was there, but he couldn’t place his finger on exactly why. Well, he’d placed a few fingers directly on Eliza, but that was beside the point.
He opened the envelope and tried to read the elaborately scrawled words. Muttering an oath, he returned it to his pocket, unable to focus. Silas cursed himself for drinking entirely too much the previous night. Usually he was able to stave off the morning’s pains with a proper breakfast–but today, he refused to ask Eliza to help him with something as trivial as a meal. Instead he’d left the slumbering beauty alone while he ducked out into the rising sun. She’d been a sight to behold, sprawled on the sheets with her hair spread out on the pillows behind her. Her lips were red and plump from a full night of kissing, her cheeks flushed from passion and from his late night stubble.
Even though he’d spent the night in her bed, mostly in a state of undress, they’d never moved passed the initial “touch and feel.” Silas, generally described as a rake by his peers, still had some sense of propriety, and found he was perfectly satisfied to just be with her, surveying and enjoying every inch of her body. Not to say he didn’t hope to approach her later, but for now he had the reminder of their evening still fresh on his lips.
Unfortunately for him, the neighbors were already out on their doorsteps, retrieving newspapers. As he walked away from Eliza’s abode instead of acting guilty or trying to hide his identity, he merely tipped his hat and grinned. The prudish passers-by scoffed, and he had to chuckle at their surprised expressions. This wouldn’t be the last of it.
Once the glaring neighbors faded into the distance behind him and he reached the end of the street, he pulled the envelope from his pocket again, hoping for better luck. He unfolded it and immediately recognized the familiar scrawling script on the yellowed parchment. The message was short.
Watch Eliza.
Silas stopped walking and frowned. There was no salutation like his other letters. It meant more than the simplicity suggested, and for certain, Silas took it very seriously. He was downright concerned. He never received less than a page of instruction from the colonel. Over the last few years he’d come to expect over-verbose descriptions, bloated with information.
Silas, still holding the paper in both hands, turned around to stare toward Eliza’s home.
“What does the old man want me to do?” he whispered.
Cuthbert never sent him with the sole intent to spy on women. The lavishly intricate notes previously held secrets and plots. Silas never spent his off-season days in the country, lazing about like most of the gentlemen of his stature. Instead he gallivanted the world over, searching for missing women to bring home safely.
This stumped him. His head pounded harder than ever. He tucked the note back into his vest and turned toward home. Before he thought of anything else, he needed some food.
Chapter 3
Noon arrived, and Eliza rolled over in bed. She ran her hand over the sheets, still wrinkled from the visitor who’d shared it with her. Stretching her body, she relished its soreness. She smiled at the fond memories of the one involved. She could get used to the baron being around, even if it was to “fill in the gaps,” as he’d said.
She snickered to herself. It had been quite some time since she’d enjoyed a man’s attentions. There was something to say about a grand seduction with sharp wit and genuine feeling, as opposed to just being the dutiful wife. She longed for what had transpired the evening before with Silas, yet knew it was quite out of her reach–which saddened her. Companionship was paramount in her life–not only with males, but with friends in general. She kept up with them as much as possible.
She sat up, mentally cataloging the extent of her exhaustion and began to dress. Someone banged furiously at the door. She rushed to pin her hair and bounded down the staircase. As Eliza flung the door open, Miriam practically ran into her.
“Rumors have already surfaced about how Baron Willoughby was in your presence last night.”
“Which warrants my interest...how?” Eliza propped her hand on her hip. “Tell me, what exactly are they saying about town?”
Miriam pushed past her and shut the door. “They saw him leave his house last evening, quite late, yet still not late enough for all the other musicale attendees to have made it home. The same people saw him leave your home–oh, just a few hours past.”
“They sure are nosy gits.” Eliza crossed her arms.
“Yes, they are, but too much attention could hamper our extracurricular activities. I wish you would take it into consideration next time. Start later, and pitch him out before sun-up at the very least.”
“I know. I shall pay more attention from now on. I was asleep when he left.”
“I don’t even want to know, my friend. I hope it was worth it.”
The corner of Eliza’s mouth turned up in a grin. “Very well.”
“Oh, that reminds me–what did the good colonel say in his last missive?”
“I thought I’d wait and explain once Jillian arrived.”
“Fine idea,” Miriam agreed.
“Would you care for tea?” Eliza asked, walking toward the kitchen.
“Do you have anything stronger?” Miriam rubbed her temples. “I cannot ease this headache.”
“Yes, of course.”
Eliza opened a cabinet, removed a glass and copper contraption, and placed it on the counter. She returned to the cabinet and retrieved a cloth bag of beans and another cast-iron coffee grinder. She ground the beans, placed a handful in the top of the copper half, and poured a pitcher of water over the grounds Placing a teacup under a small silver spout to one side, she turned a crank on the opposite side, bringing the machine to life. Steam spat out the top for a few moments as the women waited. Soon, fresh coffee filled the glass container and poured out the side into the fine china.
“Splendid,” Miriam said while adding two sugar cubes. “Where did you procure this thing? I must have one.”
“It’s but another extremely useful gift from our colonel.