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Authors: Elizabeth Moss
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lord.’
‘I am sure,’ he drawled, noting her pronounced use of his title. Did her smile have to be quite so inviting?
Nathaniel tucked her hand firmly over his arm, in command of himself again. She was a woman like any other, and he had resisted many women before, some of them far more sensual and alluring than Miss Faversham.
He only realised his mistake when her hip brushed lightly against his as they passed through the doorway, her flesh soft and tantalisingly feminine. It seemed to him as though Eleanor had swayed deliberately in his direction, forcing Sallinger into an aroused awareness of her body.
Eleanor glanced up at his sharp intake of breath, and Nathaniel schooled his expression to give nothing away, staring straight ahead with a stony face. She must not be allowed to know his weakness where she was concerned. To suffer another rejection at her hands ...
His fists clenched at the thought like a prize fighter’s and had to be slowly, consciously relaxed before she noticed.
No, such a humiliation could not be permitted. Better Eleanor thought him cold and uncaring than a fool. Better he stood apart from all the rest she had so casually rebuffed by not appearing to care.
Nathaniel led the way through into the dining room and bowed with formal precision, silently indicating where a place had been set for her. He seated himself at the head of the table, with Charlotte at the other end and Eleanor to her left.
It had been some time since they had last entertained in such style at Sallinger House, the dining table glittering formally with candelabra and elegant silverware.
Settling back in his winged, high-backed chair, Nathaniel looked down the full length of the table in the candlelit room, such finery suddenly stifling and unreal. The damask napkin laid so carefully across his lap felt rough as sackcloth under his fingers, crystal glassware glinting at him in the candlelight, reminding him of formal dinners in their past.
His hand trembled slightly as he tasted the decanted wine but he ignored it, nodding to Allenby to serve the ladies. He had let his emotions run wild for this woman once, and had nearly ruined both their lives by it. That madness would not be repeated, however much her presence might vex him and test his self-control.
‘Little Robert has already dined,’ Charlotte was explaining cheerfully as she made herself comfortable at the other end of the table, apparently oblivious to the tension in the air. ‘He takes his meal in the nursery at five o’clock and is usually abed by now. I will go up after dinner to kiss him goodnight. He will not settle to sleep until I have done so, poor little thing.’
‘He must miss his father badly,’ Eleanor murmured, keeping her gaze firmly on her bowl as the servant ladled a thick, delicious-smelling vegetable soup into it.
Charlotte began to say something in reply, then stopped, her breath catching in her throat as though unable to continue. ‘Indeed,’ she managed falteringly. ‘Indeed, so do I.’
‘You must stop distressing yourself with this constant pining, Charlotte,’ Nathaniel heard himself saying, and only then realised how harsh his voice had sounded. He forced a smile at his sister, softening his tone. ‘I am sure Henry will return as soon as your letter reaches him. But these things take time. You must try to be patient.’
‘Yes,’ his sister said, gulping. ‘You are right, of course.’
‘I’m sorry, but I must disagree.’ Eleanor seemed to rush at once to her friend’s defence, anxious perhaps to put him in his place, no doubt as she did so many of the young bucks in London. ‘It is only natural for Charlotte to want her husband home again as soon as possible. In her condition, surely we cannot blame her for being anxious and very much in need of her husband’s reassurance?’
Sallinger looked
‘I am sure,’ he drawled, noting her pronounced use of his title. Did her smile have to be quite so inviting?
Nathaniel tucked her hand firmly over his arm, in command of himself again. She was a woman like any other, and he had resisted many women before, some of them far more sensual and alluring than Miss Faversham.
He only realised his mistake when her hip brushed lightly against his as they passed through the doorway, her flesh soft and tantalisingly feminine. It seemed to him as though Eleanor had swayed deliberately in his direction, forcing Sallinger into an aroused awareness of her body.
Eleanor glanced up at his sharp intake of breath, and Nathaniel schooled his expression to give nothing away, staring straight ahead with a stony face. She must not be allowed to know his weakness where she was concerned. To suffer another rejection at her hands ...
His fists clenched at the thought like a prize fighter’s and had to be slowly, consciously relaxed before she noticed.
No, such a humiliation could not be permitted. Better Eleanor thought him cold and uncaring than a fool. Better he stood apart from all the rest she had so casually rebuffed by not appearing to care.
Nathaniel led the way through into the dining room and bowed with formal precision, silently indicating where a place had been set for her. He seated himself at the head of the table, with Charlotte at the other end and Eleanor to her left.
It had been some time since they had last entertained in such style at Sallinger House, the dining table glittering formally with candelabra and elegant silverware.
Settling back in his winged, high-backed chair, Nathaniel looked down the full length of the table in the candlelit room, such finery suddenly stifling and unreal. The damask napkin laid so carefully across his lap felt rough as sackcloth under his fingers, crystal glassware glinting at him in the candlelight, reminding him of formal dinners in their past.
His hand trembled slightly as he tasted the decanted wine but he ignored it, nodding to Allenby to serve the ladies. He had let his emotions run wild for this woman once, and had nearly ruined both their lives by it. That madness would not be repeated, however much her presence might vex him and test his self-control.
‘Little Robert has already dined,’ Charlotte was explaining cheerfully as she made herself comfortable at the other end of the table, apparently oblivious to the tension in the air. ‘He takes his meal in the nursery at five o’clock and is usually abed by now. I will go up after dinner to kiss him goodnight. He will not settle to sleep until I have done so, poor little thing.’
‘He must miss his father badly,’ Eleanor murmured, keeping her gaze firmly on her bowl as the servant ladled a thick, delicious-smelling vegetable soup into it.
Charlotte began to say something in reply, then stopped, her breath catching in her throat as though unable to continue. ‘Indeed,’ she managed falteringly. ‘Indeed, so do I.’
‘You must stop distressing yourself with this constant pining, Charlotte,’ Nathaniel heard himself saying, and only then realised how harsh his voice had sounded. He forced a smile at his sister, softening his tone. ‘I am sure Henry will return as soon as your letter reaches him. But these things take time. You must try to be patient.’
‘Yes,’ his sister said, gulping. ‘You are right, of course.’
‘I’m sorry, but I must disagree.’ Eleanor seemed to rush at once to her friend’s defence, anxious perhaps to put him in his place, no doubt as she did so many of the young bucks in London. ‘It is only natural for Charlotte to want her husband home again as soon as possible. In her condition, surely we cannot blame her for being anxious and very much in need of her husband’s reassurance?’
Sallinger looked
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