Page 67 of A Single Obsession

The possibility of her refusing him made him feel sick. Not just for the sake of his horses. He could always marry someone else to save his stud. Miss Whitlow would certainly jump at the chance to become a viscountess.

But he didn’t want anyone else. He wanted Eliza.

Even more than he yearned to get Romeo back—and that was saying something. He could start over with his stud, but if he lost her? It was too painful to contemplate.

From the moment he first touched his lips to hers, he knew he never wanted to kiss another woman. And when she had melted in his arms, such warmth flooded through his being that he thought he might ignite.

It pained him somewhere deep inside to think of her kissing anyone else. What if that someone was Ant? He could never face his friend again.

But he didn’t just desire her kisses. He wanted more. Her smiles, her trust, her love.

Because he was in love with Eliza.

And it was unlike any love he had experienced before. He knew his life would be empty without her.

Why had it taken him so many months to realise?

Because of his mother. For as long as he could remember, she’d been trying to marry him off. It was like being prodded with a pointy stick so that he instinctively recoiled every time marriage was mentioned.

Would he have come round to the idea earlier if his mother had not pressed him so hard? Probably.

She’d invited Miss Whitlow to the house party to push him into Eliza’s arms—and she’d succeeded. He hated to think Eliza was his mother’s choice before she was his.

How would he ever convince Eliza he was not marrying her just to keep his horses? After all, he had more or less told her as much.

And now, what did it look like he cared about most? He’d raced over here to check on the stables, leaving her alone in the dark.

All at once, Beau roused himself. “Come down to the house with me, Jem, and I’ll send for a surgeon. We must get that arm set before any lasting damage is done.”

“What about Romeo?”

Beau sighed. “People are more important than horses.”

“Are you feeling all right, my lord?”

Beau gave a wry laugh. “No, but I’m hoping I will be.”

Chapter 30

The next morning, Eliza awoke at her usual hour feeling as tired as when she went to bed. But though her body was weary, her spirits were wearier.

After creeping into her room shortly after two o’clock in the morning in something of a daze, her feelings too jumbled to comprehend, Eliza had cried herself to sleep.

How could Beau leave her like that? Alone. In the dark.

The rejection she felt at his desertion was overwhelming.

She lifted a hand to her mouth and remembered the feel of his lips on hers. When they had kissed, she had dared to think he was falling in love with her—but she had been mistaken. If he had cared for her, he wouldn’t have left her like that.

And for what? His horses.

They would always come first. She was simply the means to provide for the true love of his life—and she would have to get used to it or give him up.

Eliza yearned to be outside, but she refused to risk facing Beau before breakfast. Not while the pain was still so raw. Instead, she stayed in bed, delaying her morning ride in case he took it into his head to join her. It would do him no harm to be kept waiting. To taste what it felt like to be left alone.

Indeed, it was a shame she would not be there to witness his disappointment—if he was disappointed. She stifled a sob. If he even turned up to ride with her.

After sipping a cup of hot chocolate as slowly as she could, Eliza couldn’t cope with being in bed any longer. She needed to be outdoors. To go for a ride and blow away these feelings of dejection.