The Emerald Viscountess

~21~

With a sigh, Eleanora set down her weapon. "Out of the countless difficult situations, which one are you referring to?"

"The other morning," Anthony answered softly.

"When I was stung?"

"After which you put my hand to your bosom."

"To help with your breathing!" she argued. "You were overcome. You were the one who then looked at me."

"You looked at me!"

"Not in the way that you did," Eleanora scoffed.

"And exactly how did I look?"

For a moment, Anthony glanced at Eleanora's pursed lips as she tried to find a way to answer his question.

Leaves rustled in the distance, and Eleanora quickly held her gun erect and closed her one eye.

"It'll signify little if you mean to hold your gun in that way," Anthony criticized.

"Well then show me!" Eleanora hissed, expecting Anthony to use his own rifle to show her.

Instead, he held her elbow to prop the rifle against her shoulder the right way, before using that same hand to cover hers and help pull the trigger when it would be the right time. His other hand was over her hand holding the barrel of the gun, and in this position, Anthony's face was closer to hers.

In that close proximity, one can cover much skin on a person with their lips. The neck, shoulder, cheek, forehead, and lips. That was all Anthony wanted to do at that very moment. Damn that stag, it mattered no more in that moment.

Eleanora's breath grew shaky, closing her eyes and enjoying the moment, ever so slightly leaning into Anthony's touch.

The sound of the party grew closer, immediately separating Anthony from Eleanora before quickly standing up. Eleanora set down her rifle, shaking her head in order to shake away the feelings that stirred inside of her just then.

"There the two of you are!" Benedict called, beside Kate. Anthony and Eleanora both had to carry themselves as if nothing had happened behind that log, much like how nothing (everything) had happened in the garden. "Well, you better rejoin us before the rain ends our pursuits."

~~~

"Miss Fitzwilliam, how was the hunt?" Daniel asked, as Eleanora entered, drenched, into Aubrey Hall.

"Lord Price, I'll tell you of it in the morning, for now, I am quite exhausted and would like to turn in for bed," Eleanora said hastily, walking past Daniel and made her way upstairs to her room.

"Good night . . ." Daniel said quietly.

~~~

That night, the thunder and lightening of the storm kept Anthony awake. In bed, every so often he wished for Eleanora to be beside him, before forcing himself to envision Edwina laying beside him: his viscountess.

He decided that tomorrow at the ball, he would tell Eleanora of what Lord Featherington had told him. But for now, he couldn't get a wink of sleep. He laid on his back, his arm acting as a pillow for his head as he gazed up at the ceiling art that lit up every so often from the lightening.

Meanwhile, Eleanora was also experiencing insomnia, an issue that hadn't crossed her mind since arriving at Aubrey Hall. Too many items were running through her mind: Anthony and the situations she found herself in, first with the bee sting and then with being instructed on how to hold a rifle.

She couldn't help but open her nightstand drawer to fish out the poem that Anthony wrote for her. She unfolded it and read it to herself quietly a few times.