Page 76 of One Night with an Earl

Oliver watched Ana leave the alley. At the entrance to the street, she glanced back, her hazel eyes meeting his.

His skin grew hot.

He prided himself on his patience. He spent hours at his desk, poring over correspondence, meeting with numerous stewards, secretaries, and staff, to manage the earldom’s many estates.

Duty always came before pleasures.

He’d grown up watching the debauchery of his brother. The late-night parties, the string of women, the drinking and gambling. He was not blind to his father’s vices or his mother’s lovers. His parents had a cold marriage, a consensual agreement to ignore each other’s affairs after the heir and spare had been born.

He’d been starved for affection as a boy, and his grandmother had been the only constant in his childhood. He was resigned to the fact that he’d marry and produce an heir. He vowed it would be a much more amicable marriage than his own parents’ union. He would not tolerate infidelity.

But duty was far from his thoughts when he’d spotted Ana in the boxing salon. She’d stopped wearing the floppy bonnets and lace caps, and he’d seen her lovely face across the vast room.

It was like a punch to his gut.

Need combined with desire had flared hot, tightening every muscle in his body. He couldn’t wait for tonight and when she’d come to him, but that was not the purpose of her visit. She feared discovery. But her reasons were entirely unexpected. He understood her sense of duty, and he hadn’t lied when he’d said he found it admirable. For a man who hadn’t received love or loyalty from his parents as a child, he knew it was rare. Ana continued to surprise him, and his feelings for her continued to grow.

He’d make their night even more memorable than their night at the Silver Chalice. She was no longer a virgin and there would be no surprises, nothing to keep her from learning all the pleasures he could give her. They could share stolen moments together before they had to return to the burdens of their own lives.

He’d known the truth for a long time, hadn’t he? What he wanted was more than one night. Ana in his bed for a week, for a month, for longer…

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Penelope was pacing the drawing room when Ana returned. Her cheeks were flushed, like she’d hurried down the street. “Where have you been?”

“What is amiss?” Ana went to the door and glanced both ways down the corridor in fear of a servant or, heaven forbid, Lady Malvern overhearing before shutting the door.

“I received word that Lieutenant Smithfield has come home,” Penelope said.

Ana blinked in surprise. “Pardon?”

“You know the letters he writes take many weeks, even months to reach me.”

“So?” Ana knew the post took time to arrive from members of the military out of the country. Spain wasn’t as far as Africa, but mail was slow and had to be received by the Regimental Office in London before being distributed to family members.

“A courier delivered this to me while you were out. Thankfully, I opened the door when it arrived.” Penelope removed a parchment from her skirt pocket.

“What does it say?”

“His request for a leave was granted, and he has returned home to fully recover from his injury.” Penelope’s face flushed with excitement. “He’s home, Ana!”

“Let me see.” Ana accepted the letter and scanned the contents. He’d been treated on the field by an army surgeon, then requested leave. It was not during a campaign, and his request was granted. He was currently at his residence on St. James Street and under a family physician’s care.

Ana looked up. “The mail he’d sent from abroad must have been delayed by weeks if he had recently written this letter.”

Penelope wrung her hands. “It’s true. He must have been wounded a while ago. And to think I had no idea he was suffering all this time.”

Ana handed the letter back to her. “No sense feeling guilty about it. You know now.”

Penelope clutched the letter to her chest and collapsed in a nearby chair. “I still cannot believe he’s back in London.”

“It’s a good sign he is able to travel, darling. He must be on the mend.”

“You’re right. It’s almost as if I can feel his presence close by.”

Ana’s disbelief must have been evident in her expression because Penelope leaned forward on her chair, her blue eyes imploring. “I have to see him.”

Ana shook her head. “Do not even think it. You cannot visit a bachelor’s home by yourself.”