Truce: The Historic Neighbor from Hell

Chapter 11

“Good morning, Lady Elizabeth,” he heard a footman say in greeting to the woman that hadn’t left his thoughts since the moment he’d laid eyes on her in the orangery.

He paused mid-chew, wondering if he should do them both a favor and sneak out the servants’ door and leave for the day, but the maid carrying in a fresh platter of eggs took the decision out of his hands.

With a putout sigh, he got to his feet and picked up two of his empty plates and headed for the sideboard. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth enter the breakfast room, come to an abrupt halt when she spotted him, take an anxious step back before a look of determination took over her features and she forced herself to walk into the room. So, she wasn’t a coward, he thought with a spark of admiration, that was good to know.

Because he just couldn’t help himself, he took his time loading both plates with food. He ignored the rather adorable homicidal glare that she was sending his way as she stood to the side of him, holding an empty plate as she waited for him to get the hell out of the way. When she started to tap her foot impatiently, he decided that perhaps he should add a third plate now, to save time later and to annoy the little brat. He took his time making his selections, wondering just how far he would be able to push her before she started screaming at him or threw her plate at his head, but to his surprise she didn’t say a word while he made her wait.

Feeling slightly disappointed, he picked up his plates, careful not to drop a single delicious morsel, and carried them back to his seat at the table. As he ate, he watched her make her selections, wondering if she was going to leave the room entirely or sit at the far end of the table to get away from him. She did neither, surprising him once again.

“Couldn’t stand to be away from me?” he asked when she sat down across from him, because apparently he was an idiot. He should be avoiding this woman and figuring out a way to convince his mother that he needed to leave before he did something foolish like throttle the woman sitting across from him or bend her over the table, lift up the skirts of her light pink dress and relieve the ache between his legs that was now making itself known.

Instead of answering him, she simply sat there eating quietly as she pretended as though she hadn’t heard him. He wasn’t sure why that pissed him off, but it did. Given their history it would probably be for the best if they ignored each other, but he really wanted to get a reaction out of her. He really loved it when she reacted, he thought, remembering last night when she’d been beneath him, fingernails digging into his back as he slid in and out of her incredibly tight sheath.

With a muttered curse, he focused his attention back on his food as he shifted in his chair to try and adjust his already too tight pants. Lusting after the pain in the ass wasn’t going to help him. She’d ruined his life and he’d be smart to remember that, no matter how good she’d felt in his arms.

“Good morning, Elizabeth,” his brother said as he walked into the room, sounding genuinely pleased and drawing Robert’s glare.

The betraying bastard, he thought, as he watched his brother walk over to Elizabeth, who was smiling up at the bastard, and press a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Good morning, James,” she said, smiling and not pissing him off.

Not. At. All.

When his brother reluctantly stepped away from Elizabeth to fill a plate at the sideboard, Robert’s eyes narrowed on him, taking in the well-fitted jacket and pants that fit him to perfection and then down to the borrowed clothes that he now wore and hated. They were too small, too tight and, unfortunately, too short. He looked ridiculous while his brother looked every inch the lord that he was.

All of their clothes had been ruined in the fire and the clothes that they’d worn last night had been unsalvageable. This morning he had been faced with the choice of wearing the borrowed clothes from God only knew or staying in his room wearing his drawers until some new clothes could be made and delivered to him. He should have stayed in his room, he realized with an annoyed grunt as he returned his attention back to his food.

“What are your plans for this morning?” James asked.

“Work,” he grunted, not bothering to look up from his food as he answered the bastard.

“I was talking to Elizabeth,” his brother drawled, reminding Robert that the dumb bastard was infatuated with the little pain in the ass.

Elizabeth cleared her throat before she answered. “I thought I’d go for a walk in the park since it’s such a beautiful day.”

“It’s far too cold for a walk,” his brother explained with a light chastising tone. “Why don’t I take you for a ride this afternoon in my carriage instead?”

Ah, so the courting was already beginning, Robert realized with dread, his appetite suddenly gone. Somehow he forced himself to sit there and shovel another forkful of food into his mouth as he waited for her answer.

“That sounds lovely, James. Thank you,” Elizabeth said politely, sounding pleased and forcing him to abruptly stand, knocking his chair to the floor in the process, and walk out of the room before he did something that he might truly regret.

“It’s very cold, m’lady,” Jane complained once again through chattering teeth.

“It will feel warmer after a few minutes,” Elizabeth said absently, sending her maid a reassuring smile as she quickened her pace, needing the fresh air and peace that walking provided her.

In truth, it was quite a bit colder than it had been yesterday. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but unfortunately it was also cold enough to form icicles on pretty much everything. When she’d stepped outside ten minutes ago and was hit with a blast of cold air, she’d considered going inside and spending the day by the fire with a good book, but after seeing Robert this morning, she needed to clear her head.

This morning she’d forced herself to get dressed after a restless night spent pacing her bedroom despite her exhaustion and went downstairs, hoping to use the late night to her advantage and break her fast alone before she secluded herself in the library for the day. She would have never left the safety of her room if she had known what waited for her in the breakfast room.

When she saw him standing there, filling his plate with an insane amount of food, wearing a ridiculous suit that was too small for him, she’d felt her heart skip a beat and had an overwhelming urge to walk up to him, wrap her arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. Knowing that he wouldn’t welcome her touch had felt a thousand times worse than when James had stepped out of her life and broken her young heart.

She’d wanted nothing more than to run up to her room, throw something and perhaps cry into her pillow as she bemoaned the unfairness of her situation, but she’d forced herself to walk into that room and pretend that her heart wasn’t breaking. After reminding herself that she was dealing with Robert Bradford, the horrid boy that had once filled her bureau drawers with snakes, she was able to act like his presence didn’t bother her.

But it did.

She was torn between kicking him or kissing him, neither one a very good option if she wanted to convince her father to allow her to leave London on her own.

“M’lady?” Jane said through clattering teeth.

“I’m sorry, Jane,” she said, forcing her thoughts away from Robert. “Here,” she said, removing her shawl from around her shoulders and holding it out to her maid.

Jane eyed the shawl with longing, but her training kept her from accepting even though her lips were starting to turn an interesting shade of purple. “No, thank you, m’lady,” she mumbled, forcing herself to look away.

With a muttered curse about the ridiculousness of propriety, Elizabeth stepped behind the trembling woman and wrapped the shawl around her shoulders before she stepped away and continued walking at a quick pace, needing the exercise.

“Thank you, m’lady,” Jane mumbled, gripping the shawl tightly around her shoulders as she did her best to keep up with Elizabeth.

“You’re welcome,” Elizabeth said, looking over her shoulder to give the other woman an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry that you had to come out with me in this cold.”

“It’s no trouble, m’lady,” Jane dutifully said when they both knew that the woman would rather be doing just about anything else.

Jane hated going for walks, which was why Elizabeth never asked for her company when they resided in the country. Out there the protection of a servant wasn’t needed. She could spend her days walking her father’s land freely without worry, but in London she was required to have a servant with her anytime she ventured away from the house without the protection of a relative. It was a ridiculous rule, one she’d argued about with her father every season, but one that she couldn’t seem to get out of.

Five minutes later she was regretting giving up her warm shawl as the cold finally managed to seep into her bones, making it painful to walk or breathe for that matter. Oh, why hadn’t she stayed home and waited for James to take her for a ride later? Because, she was stubborn and foolish, she decided as a violent shiver tore through her body, making her grind her teeth against the cold assault.

“What the hell are you doing out in this cold?” Robert snapped, startling her just as something rather warm was wrapped around her shoulders.

She looked down to find herself wrapped in a thick wool coat. Before she could argue, which she desperately wanted to do on principle alone, Robert was standing in front of her, giving her no choice but to stop walking as he finished pulling the coat around her and fastened the buttons.

“I’m perfectly fine,” she lied even as she gripped the inside of the coat to pull it more tightly around herself.

“Then why are your lips blue?” he asked softly as he gazed down at her.

“They’re not blue,” she argued, feeling herself tremble from something other than the cold as he reached up and gently pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Why didn’t you wait for my brother?” he asked as he gently rubbed the back of his knuckles along her cheek.

Because she didn’t want to be courted by James, but she wasn’t about to admit that to him. Instead she thanked him for the use of his jacket and moved to step around him, but he wasn’t having that. He-

“Put me down!” she gasped as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, turned around and started walking back the way they’d came.

“Just as soon as we reach your house so that your father can spank some sense into you,” he said, wrapping a rather large arm around her legs when she tried to kick her way to freedom.

“Put me down this instant, Robert!” she snapped, punching his bottom to emphasize her demand.

“I really shouldn’t be surprised,” he mused to himself, clearly uncaring that she was currently trying to fight her way to freedom.

“Sir?” Jane said, sounding unsure.

“Help get me down!” Elizabeth pleaded as she shifted so that she could send the maid an imploring look that was promptly ignored as the maid took in Robert’s size and determination. Noticeably swallowing, Jane shook her head, faltered back a step and focused all of her attention on the ground ahead of her.

“Traitor,” she muttered although she couldn’t really blame the woman.

“To be honest,” Robert went on, “I thought by now that your father would have you locked up.”

“I hate you!” she snapped, punching his bottom. If her attack hurt, it didn’t show.

“Hopefully, your husband will have more sense and will keep you locked up. Maybe in a convent where the sisters could beat some sense into you.”

“Robert Bradford, you put me down this instant!” she demanded, glad that the park was practically empty and other than a few street vendors trying to sell their wares, there was no one to witness her humiliation.

“Sure thing,” he said, quickening his pace, but he didn’t put her down. Instead, he forced her to grab onto the back of the thin lawn shirt that he wore to stop herself from bouncing all over the place.

A few minutes later, she was forced to tighten her hold on his shirt as he jogged up the stone steps to her father’s house. When she saw the freshly polished foyer floor, she sighed with relief, but it was short lived.

“You said that you’d put me down as soon as we reached the house,” she reminded him as she tried to wiggle out of his grip.

“I was planning on it until a thought occurred to me,” he said, sounding amused and instantly putting her on guard.

She was almost too afraid to ask, “What are you talking about?”

“Since your father is probably still in bed, you’ll have to wait until later for that spanking that you desperately need,” he said, walking down what appeared to be the back hallway. “Since we can’t have you running around and catching your death, I’m afraid that I have no choice but to lock you up for your own good,” he said on a longsuffering sigh that didn’t exactly match his tone.

“Don’t. You. Dare,” she bit out, trying not to panic and failing miserably.

“I wish that I had a choice, Beth. Truly I do, but I’m afraid that you’ve left me with no choice,” he said, chuckling as her ears registered the sounds of the click of a lock and a door opening.

“I’m not kidding, Robert!”

“Now, you just sit in here for a while and I’m sure that someone will eventually let you out,” he said as he quickly placed her on her unsteady legs.

Before she could push past him or demand her release, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against her stunned lips. It took her a few seconds before she realized that he’d shut the door, leaving her standing there looking foolish. The click of the lock brought her to her senses. She grabbed for the doorknob and tried to turn it, but it was good and locked.

A moment later, she realized that he’d locked her in the old music room. It was located in the back of the house and hadn’t been used in years since no one in the house played an instrument. It was also far enough away from the rest of the house that no one would be able to hear her cries for help, she realized with a growl.

“You bastard!” she yelled, uncaring that the declaration was unladylike as she kicked the door. “You’ll pay for this!”