“I am not here for that, Celeste,” he said, his tone cool.
“Oh?” Her smile faltered a little as she rested back down on her heels. “But you always come for that.” She curled a lock of her dark auburn hair around her fingers, obviously trying to offer him a sweet look.
Elliot felt ashamed as he turned his back on her and looked around the attic room. One glance hardly left much to the imagination of what went on here. The bed pushed into the corner was ruffled from where she had recently risen, and on the other side was a table full of gifts that had been sent from her gentlemen callers.
When Elliot had first returned to the country and heard of the financial difficulty his parents had left him in, seeing Celeste had given him a reprieve from worry. Many a time had he spent in this bed with her, losing himself to pleasure, but that time was at an end now.
“Your Grace,” she said, moving around him and trying to catch his eye, “something is troubling you. Let me make it better for you. I warrant I can offer a good distraction.” She reached for the lapels of his tailcoat, trying to draw it off him. He clutched the tailcoat further down and held it fixed in place.
Hearing Celeste talk in such a way was only making him think of Ophelia, the wife he had left tucked up in bed alone. When he thought of making love, it was with her he pictured himself, not Celeste now.
“My apologies, Celeste, but I have come here to bid you goodbye.” He kept his voice level. “It is time you and I parted ways.”
“Parted?” Celeste’s voice squeaked a little in surprise as she stood back from him, her hands dropping from his tailcoat. “But… you have always been so fond of me.”
“Times change,” he explained slowly. “I have recently married, and I intend to be faithful to my wife.”
“Many a gentleman says that.” Celeste was suddenly smiling again. Walking around him, she headed for the table that was full of gifts and pulled out a wine bottle. “They do not often stick to such promises. Here, let me pour you a glass, Your Grace. I am sure I could make you forget all about that lovely wife of yours.”
“No, thank you,” he refused, even as she pressed the spindly glass toward him. “I have merely come to say goodbye, Celeste, not to share a drink with you.”
“This cannot be goodbye, just like that.” Again, the smile vanished. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she clearly held back some of her anger. “It cannot be.”
“Why not?” Elliot gestured to the gifts on the table. “You have many admirers; I am sure any one of them can take my place.”
“But none of them is…” She trailed off, her chin dropping. Elliot realised what word she wanted to say.
“Let me guess. None of them is a duke?” At his words, she didn’t deny it. He scoffed and shook his head. “Well, thank you for letting me know why you have enjoyed my company these last few months.”
“The fact you are a duke is not the only reason.” She reached toward him again, putting down the wine glass first and moving to him with eager hands. Elliot backed up, maintaining a distance between them at all times. “We enjoy each other’s company, do we not?”
Elliot was suddenly seeing the last few months in a completely different light. He had distracted himself from the real world with Celeste, and she in turn had hoped that by being mistress to a duke, she could elevate herself from the position she found herself in. He half-wondered if there had ever been any tenderness between them at all, or if it had all been heat and nothing more.
I must get out of here!
“No more of this.” He put the table between them. “I have come to say goodbye. I do you the courtesy of at least doing that, for many a man would not have come at all.”
Celeste did not look pleased. Her brow furrowed deeply, and her hands curled around the back of the chair.
“It cannot be over like this. It cannot be!” Her voice grew louder.
“It is. Goodbye, Celeste. I wish the best for you.” He moved his top hat back to his head and crossed to the door, but her angry footsteps followed him.
“No. No, I will not let you leave me.” She reached for his arm, but he tore it from her grasp.
“Goodbye,” he said again.
As he reached for the door and stepped through it, he heard glass smash beside him. He flinched and looked round, to see Celeste breathing heavily, her face red and her arm outstretched. She had thrown the wine glass in his direction, where it had smashed against the doorframe.
“Thank you for making this so easy,” he said, his voice cool, before he turned and left.
Elliot hurried down the stairs toward the street, a lightness in his step. Free of Celeste, he felt unburdened of his worries, as well. Before he went back to his wife, though, there was one more thing he needed to do. If he was going to woo Ophelia, then first, he had to arrange for some flowers.
Chapter 15
She has not mentioned the flowers, not once.
Elliot was confused. As he sat at the head of the dinner table, with Ophelia on one side and Grace on the other, there seemed to be a strange atmosphere between him and his wife, one he couldn’t understand. It was an air that Grace seemed unaware of, for she kept talking at length of the new piano that was to arrive soon.