An Earl’s Broken Heart by Ella Edon

Chapter Twenty-Four

Alexander didn’t move or speak. He pretended that he hadn’t heard the cotton soft words Isabel had whispered into his ears, but they had penetrated to the bone. At the soft rumble of her voice, his toes had curled inside his shoes.

He closed his eyes briefly and glanced at her. “When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause—there’s the respect that makes calamity of so long life.”

He met her eyes and was struck by their desirous glint. He followed her neck and found his eyes arrested by her bosom. She was a woman possessed of godly shape, every muscle and curve in precisely the right place.

He couldn’t help himself; it was as though some unseen lever had been pulled within and he had been transported to a time when they would chase one another about the Lichfield Maze reciting those very words. His hand glided with slow, deliberate care up her spine and she locked eyes with him, her face a picture of desire.

For that moment, Alexander didn’t care that he was missing the show. Isabel was the real spectacle. He wanted little more than to leave with her in that moment and kiss her as though it would be his last day.

He smiled. Prior to that moment, he had considered whether his decision to go to the theatre with Isabel had been drastic. Now the decision had been undoubtedly redeemed.

It had been Mr. Wilson that informed him of Isabel’s intention to visit the theatre upon his return from Michael's office. At first, he didn’t care about the information but with time it began to settle over him and he became interested. Why had she not informed him? If for no other reason than she knew he was fond of Shakespeare.

The play for that night was one of his favorites one’s ever, Hamlet. Growing up he had loved reading Hamlet and watching it had proved to be twice as delightful.

Isabel's actions had left him flabbergasted for he thought that he had long since pushed her away for good. Yet here she was persevering, making an effort to love him, when she owed him nothing of the sort given how much he pushed her away. It was brave, in a way. A different kind of bravery to that required to brave the war. This was courage of the heart an ebullient surrender to the dominion of love. For a second, he wondered if it was enough reason to let himself embrace her again.

Her hand tightened around his grip. Her skin was baby-soft against his. Her hand fit with his perfectly and their fingers interlocked seamlessly. The sheer familiarity of her body gave him a strange feeling every time they came into physical contact. It was as though a subtle undercurrent of recognition passed between them. Not solely on account of having met before but as though they were enmeshed in some more ethereal, eternal way. Like two paths that were built for intersection. Familiarity settled before him, and he squeezed her hand in acknowledgment of whatever that marvelous energy was that existed between them.

The play continued and Alexander managed to completely split his attention between the actors and Isabel. When the time came, he repeated the play by speaking her favorite lines into her ears.

"There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." Alexander said, grinning. When his eyes and Isabel's locked, they shared a laughter.

"The first time you'd repeated that line to me, I had been quite lost as to what that was." Isabel whispered.

Alexander chuckled. "I do recall the look on your face when this had happened."

Isabel laughed. "You made me read every Shakespearean play that there was just so I could find out which one bore those words."

Alexander was quite pleased by her eidetic memory. He remembered that day as well. Isabel had been so curious that she'd asked and asked but he never responded. This was because he had wanted her to share his obsession in order for him to be able to discuss it with her. The first of the Shakespearean plays that she had ended up reading had been The Twelfth Night.

"The Twelfth Night was my favorite," she said.

Alexander, of course, remembered. "That was because it had been your very first."

Isabel cocked her head to the side. "Not quite, it was because I found the story intriguing."

He shook his head with fondness. "You also found King Lear intriguing. I guarantee that if you had read that first, it would have been your favorite. Deny me if I am wrong. "

He saw that he was right when she stared ahead, smiled but said nothing. He chuckled then and so did Isabel. She peeked at him from the corner of her eyes, and it just made them both laugh again.

The way Isabel's lips curved into a smile enchanted him. He was completely mesmerized by the action that all he wanted to do then was kiss her. Her laugher rang out in his ears like a melody. More so, the fact that she recalled his interests from years ago, baffled and amazed him. She brought to him an innocent memory of his past so that all he remembered was the times when he had been exceedingly happy.

While they spoke on about the plays and their past, Alexander trailed his fingers over her palm. He knew that this had an effect on her because of her sharp intake of breath and the way her eyes became clouded. All he could think about then was devouring her. For this reason, he could not wait to return home.

Watching the rest of the play was difficult for him because his mind kept racing and thinking of what he wanted to do to Isabel the moment they got to the Manor. He thought about her hard nipple in his mouth and how she’d moaned when he rolled his tongue over it. She must have read the thoughts through his smile for she shook her head in gentle reprimand.

“Must you look at me like that?” she whispered.

Alexander feigned surprise. “Like what?”

“I think you know what I mean, Lord Carter.”

He smiled, lowering his eyes. “I will do my best to stop.”

His mind ventured back to a time long ago to when they were both young and free of responsibilities. They would sit together and he would read the words to all their favorite pieces aloud while she listened attentively, her eyes never leaving his. It was one of their many rituals, one of the things they did together almost all the time.

“Are you enjoying the play?” Alexander whispered to Isabel.

“I am having the best of time,” she chuckled, they both had a bright smile on then Alex winked at her.

“Wonderful, simply wonderful,” announced Lord Blackthorne, rising to his feet with applause as the curtain fell.

“Incredible,” Lady Elizabeth agreed joining him in ovation.

Alexander and Isabel rose as one to applaud the wonderful performance, lending their cheer to the ecstatic audience.

“We should see you again,” said Lord Blackthorne. “Perhaps you should like to join us riding soon.”

“Yes,” Lady Elizabeth added excitedly. “You simply must.”

Isabel did not answer, instead she looked up to Alexander waiting to see if he would want to go.

Alexander smiled. “That would be lovely, thank you,” he said.

They exchanged their hearty goodbyes and left for their separate carriages with a promise of joining them for a ride soon. Alexander rubbed his chin as he led Isabel into the carriage. How had he allowed himself to treat her so poorly? It was so evident that the spark that existed had not died. All this time he should have been nurturing that spark encouraging it because it brought the best out of him. He was not a hateful person. To try to love others had always been his way and every attempt he had made to pretend he could hate had only made his heart revolt. All his hostility towards her had to fade and it was high time he allowed himself to say the truth. He was still madly in love with Isabel.

* * *

As they rode back to the Manor, Isabel wondered why Alexander was so quiet. It had not been long since they had whispered lines from Shakespeare to one another with hands clasped in a lover’s lock. Why was he being so cold all of the sudden? A wave of dread made Isabel wet her lips. What if he was going back to the way he was before? To that place of isolation where he treated her as though she was barely within the realms of existence?

“Alex… Alex,” Isabel said bringing him back to reality.

He glanced at her, his eyes bright. “Yes, Isabel?”

“Nothing, it’s just… you have been quiet. I was wondering if you were alright.”

“I am fine. I was just thinking about the last few weeks. You must forgive me, Isabel, I have been ten ways a fool for treating you as I have these last few days. It was completely uncalled for, and for any pain or distress I may have caused, I am truly sorry.”

Isabel smiled and leaned forward. Compelled by pure instinct, she kissed him. His mouth possessed hers filling it with warm sweetness. His scent, fresh and beguiling in her nostrils sent her into a heady paradise as she pressed her lips harder against his. He anchored her body with a firm clasp about her waist and she leaned into him as the carriage swayed on its way. Just as she thought she might lose every last wit she had, he released her, and they sat staring and smiling at one another.

“Goodness me,” he said with a sharp exhalation of breath.

Isabel laughed. “Indeed.”

* * *

Alex visibly relaxed, the lines on his forehead disappearing. Her kiss had always been a soothing balm to him; soon before they got home, he had a cheerful face. As they climbed down from the carriage, they were attended by the butler.

“Hello Mr. Wilson,” Alex said, his fingers interlaced with Isabel’s.

“Good evening, Sir.” Mr. Wilson said, a look of bewilderment in his face at Alexander’s cheerful disposition.

It was warm and balmy night and as they climbed up to their separate bed chambers, Alexander bristled with anticipation. Isabel’s door came first, and she lingered in front of it, running her eyes over it.

“Is this goodnight, Alexander?”

Alexander’s heart lurched. He knew he shouldn’t. He couldn’t. But want had overtaken all good sense.

“Not yet,” he breathed, pressing himself against her back.

A soft rumble sounded in her throat as she pushed her door open. They entered the room together and he ran a finger up her spine. She turned to him with a look of pure desire in her eyes. He gently closed the door behind them.

“My Lady,” Alex whispered to Isabel, stroking her by the side. He placed a hand on the hem of her bodice as though asking a question.

Her smile was a warm invitation. “As your lordship pleases.”

Alex watched her bite her lips and felt his insides roar with arousal. He pressed his lips to her neck and felt her throat vibrate with sudden alertness. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him close.

Within moments their clothes were on the floor and her naked back was pressed up against the bed. He gave her a look of pure hunger as he kissed her neck again and she gasped, leaning forward.

His tongue slid down her neckline and she writhed with shuddering pleasure. His lips came to her chest, and he took her nipple in his mouth. She threw her head back and gasped. He knew he should think about the way she had hurt him, the letter she had sent, how he had once been seen as beneath her. But when he felt her lips on his all he could think about was his desperate desire for a woman who had smashed his heart into pieces. He locked his hands in her hair and with a single finger, he touched her wetness. Her breath caught sharp in her throat.

He brushed again and she reached instinctively for the pillow, anchoring herself as they locked eyes.

She locked her fingers around his wrist and looked him dead in the eye. “Alexander,” she breathed, “don’t stop.”

He obeyed and stroked her to the brink of sputtering climax. When he knew she could take no more, he entered her with one slow slide of his hips. She gasped and knocked the pillow aside with a spasming hand. He narrowed his eyes and grinned as he continued to thrust, each time harder. She closed her eyes in pure liquid bliss.

The night seemed to be a degree colder but that didn’t stop them. The cold dried off their sweaty bodies while they made more heat. Alex showed deep emotions while making love to her; he fulfilled her desires and showed her what amazing was over and over again as they both came to their sweet release.

The night went by quickly and soon, Isabel had gone to sleep, her head on his chest as their bodies still found a way to be entangled with one another.

He stayed in the bed with her for a while as his mind wandered, processing and replaying all that had transpired between them. He still couldn't believe how bad he had treated her and how unforgiving he could be. He looked at her to see that she was sleeping. Carefully—because he didn't plan on waking her up—he climbed out of the bed and stood by her bedside.

Isabel’s eyes were shut, and she looked even more beautiful like that. Her chest heaved up and down; he stared at her for a long while. His fingers itched to reach out to her, he wanted to hold her again, to have her soft skin against his but he didn't. Instead, he made his way out of the chamber, thinking about how happy he was.