"A séance?" Colin asked in disbelief as he stared at his eager bride. 

"I know it wasn't quite what I had in mind when I first suggested a gathering," Eliza admitted, tucked into the corner of the settee in the secret room. "But Margot is so eager, and I think earning her approval will help me win over the rest of Nottinghamshire."

It was well past midnight, and they had paused their conversation, along with their kisses, when Colin's lips wandered down the nape of Eliza's neck, sending a warmth through her that made her feel both bold and improper. Flushing at the realization, she gently pushed at the shoulders of her adventurous fiancé, a silent plea for restraint.

They both knew they had to put some space between them before their passions overtook their better judgment. Colin settled beside her, taking her bruised hand in his. He inspected her tender knuckles with a soft frown, then pressed a gentle kiss to them before she pushed him away once more with a playful but firm nudge.

Colin stood near the small rectangular window, where a sliver of moonlight seeped into the room, casting a faint glow on his contemplative face. He was several steps away from Eliza, his posture casual but his expression lined with concern.

"Margot is not yet twenty," he said with a frown. "I don't think you need to seek approval from the youngest Whitman."

Eliza propped herself up on one elbow, and her navy robe slipped open, revealing the cream linen nightgown beneath. She noticed Colin's gaze dart away from her chest, a faint blush darkening his cheeks.

"Miss Whitman is friendly with everyone in town," she countered, adjusting her robe with deliberate nonchalance. "If she and I were to host, the entire town would feel inclined to attend."

Colin's brows furrowed as he replied plainly, "You are going to be a marchioness, Eliza. Everyone would accept an invitation to Elsick House for that reason alone."

Eliza let out a soft huff of frustration, shifting onto her back and staring at the ceiling. Colin's pragmatic tone grated against the enthusiasm she had felt earlier when planning the event. 

"Margaret already said she would speak to Lady Dupree to see if the French thespians were still guests here."

Colin shifted his gaze from the moonlit-covered gardens to Eliza's challenging eyes before he asked, "You've already spoken to my aunt? Blimey, why are you seeking my approval then?" 

"I wasn't. I was rather telling than asking, hoping you'd commit to being here when I host."

Even in the dim lighting, Eliza found Colin's smirk. He took a step toward her as he said, "Are you sure you have not yet met my mother? I worry you have more rebellion in you than she."

"It's not rebellion, it's accepting my duties, my lord. Your mother and aunt wanted me to be more social and educate myself on hosting. That is precisely what I am doing." 

"And you are comfortable doing so?" Colin asked with his dark questioning eyebrow arched high on his forehead. 

"Not in the slightest. But that's what Margot and you will be there for. Support. And to ensure Cecilia doesn't gain access to our dining room." 

Colin let out a deep laugh as he crossed back to Eliza. Dropping down beside her on the sloped lounger, he leaned in close, his dark eyes locking with hers.

"I will be there, my darling," he said softly, his voice laced with amusement. "Even if I think summoning the dead is utter hogwash."

He placed a feather-light kiss on the tip of her nose, pausing to gauge her reaction before leaning closer. Eliza responded instantly, pulling him into her embrace, her fingers tangling in his dark, slightly sticky hair.

Their kiss deepened, a charged warmth passing between them. Colin's hands found her hips, his touch firm yet reverent. When his thumb grazed her upper thigh, her breath hitched. But just as the moment threatened to spiral further, Colin pulled back abruptly, his chest rising and falling as he steadied himself.

"This may have been a poor idea," Colin confessed, his voice uneven as he caught his breath. "It's far harder than I anticipated."

The flickering candlelight danced across the darkened room, casting an intimate glow. Eliza felt emboldened in the secrecy of their hidden space, the outside world forgotten. Here, she could be bold, seductive, and wanting. But she reminded herself that what happened in this room carried consequences beyond its walls.

"What is?" she asked, her voice breathless.

"Abstaining," Colin admitted, pushing himself up from the settee as though distance might quell the storm within him. "I have never wanted a woman more badly than I want you right now."

"Really?" Eliza replied, her tone teasing as she squinted at him. "More than any woman you've had previously?"

 "There is a reason I put a ring on your finger. I want you, Eliza Winter. All of you. Forever," Colin declared, his voice steady despite the storm raging in his eyes. He began pacing, tugging at his rumpled shirt in a futile attempt to restore some semblance of composure.

Eliza watched him, her heart pounding. She had felt the same pull, the same undeniable desire, ever since their first stolen kiss in her London bedroom. The yearning had only grown stronger here in the countryside, where the quiet solitude amplified every lingering glance and whispered word.

"I will admit," she began, her voice trembling with honesty, "that declining your advances is becoming...tedious." Her cheeks burned crimson as the words left her mouth, and she was suddenly grateful that his back was turned. "I had no idea urges of this nature could be so time-consuming."

But Colin spun around instantly, his devilish grin spreading wide. "Tedious, is it?" he repeated, his tone teasing yet low with intent. "You think about your urges quite frequently do you?" 

"You consume my mind far more than I'd care to admit. Especially when I should be thinking of far more important things," Eliza teased, but Colin stared at her flustered face with a grin on his. 

"I'll gladly admit that many of my thoughts are of you," Colin confessed, taking a deliberate step toward her, his dark eyes glinting with mischief and longing.

"Thoughts that a sincere gentleman should not be having until married?" Eliza asked, arching a brow. 

"Unfortunately," he muttered, the frustration clear in his tone. His hands dropped to his waist as though grappling with his restraint.

Eliza shifted, pushing herself into a seated position, both of them clearly fighting the same internal battle. She released a sigh, her gaze fixed on him as her heart swelled. She had never imagined she could feel so deeply for a man, and the sheer force of her emotions momentarily overwhelmed her.

Her hand fluttered to her chest, an unconscious attempt to steady the storm within, before quickly moving to her fraying braid. 

"How did it go with the constable in town today?" Eliza asked, steering them firmly into safer territory. Murder always seemed to break the spell.

Colin sighed deeply, dropping his hands from his waist. "He wouldn't say who requested the investigation be reopened, only that there's apparently new evidence suggesting her death was a homicide rather than an accident."

Eliza's eyes widened, her breath catching. "More than a year later?"

He nodded and began pacing again, his chin resting thoughtfully in his fingers. "I told them I'd offer my support, though I'm not sure how much good it will do. There wasn't an inquest at the time. Most believed she simply fell off that decrepit ladder and broke her neck in the fall."

"And this mysterious concerned citizen, why are they questioning the incident now?" 

"That is what I intend to find out. I do know, that it was not the Duprees." 

Eliza nodded. "She seemed genuinely stunned at the suggestion that something sinister was at play." Her pacing fiancé finally halted, his slippered feet wearing down the ancient carpet beneath him.

"Make sure to invite the Duprees and Mr. Hartwig to the next séance," he said, his tone firm.

Eliza instantly shook her head. "Cecilia is currently a guest at the Hartwigs'. I will not extend an invitation there, not if she assumes she's welcome again as his companion."

"Eliza, my darling, you know he is invited to the ball. It would be unkind to not invite him to your gathering if the rest of the town is planning on attending." 

"It wasn't going to be the town, my darling. Mostly just acquaintances of Margot."

"That is the entire town. The Whitmans are the most social family in Nottinghamshire. Your little gathering was always going to be a large one with a Whitman involved," Colin replied as her shoulders slumped. 

"What have I gotten myself into?" Eliza nervously asked with her long finger touching her chin. 

"I guess Lady Eliza Winter is about to host her first social event as a future marchioness." He dropped down to kiss her on the forehead, but before he could pull away, she met his gaze and replied, "I suppose I will need a dashing dress."

"I suppose you will."