This was unlike her sister, which worried her. Elizabeth had expected to receive an earful today about what a terrible sister she was, or perhaps even the cold shoulder.
“Forgive me if I appear confused, but I do not understand your present mood. Do you plan on exacting revenge on me through feigned kindness?”
To her surprise, Cecilia laughed. Now she was most worried. Perhaps her actions had broken her?
“Eliza, you fret without reason. Why should I remain angry and morose for what has happened in the past?”
“That has always been your nature, Ceci. I deserve your anger for I have most certainly wronged you.” She peered closely at her sister. “You appear to be another person this morning.”
"People can change, it happens every day."
“Yes, but not this rapidly. I do not know whether to be relieved or worried.”
“I wish you to be happy, Eliza.”
To Cecilia’s obvious dismay, Elizabeth burst into tears. It was all too much for her. Her sister immediately ran to her, putting her arms around her.
“Eliza, whatever is the matter? Why do you cry so?”
Elizabeth shook her head, too overcome with emotion to respond. Cecilia patted her back, murmuring words of assurance to her. “Do not fret, Eliza. All will be well, you will see.”
“How?” she cried. “I have made a mess of things, Ceci. What can possibly happen for everything to go back to the way it was before? I wish we had never come to London!”
“Surely you do not mean that?”
“Oh, I do not know! Father should have granted you the marriage and let me do as I wanted with my life instead of sending us here.” She pulled away from Cecilia. “What do I to say to them once we return home? What will they think of me? The only one who will have all that he wished for is Anthony. I cannot be mad about it because I agreed to the plan knowing that there were risks. But I never thought that I would get my heart broken in the process!”
Her sister pulled her back, this time stroking her hair as their mother did usually did. “There, there, Eliza. Would it help if I said that I have forgiven you?”
Elizabeth cried all the more harder. She moved away from Cecilia and ran to her bed, throwing herself upon the covers. The bed dipped slightly as her sister sat down beside her.
“I know that you are hurting, Eliza, but I promise you that all will be fine.”
“How? It is no use, Ceci. I have made a blunder of everything. Why did I take that risk?”
“Well, I am glad that you took a risk.”
Still sniffing, Elizabeth sat up. “I do not understand. How can you be glad that I took a risk? If the plan had worked, then it would have been worth it. But it has not, has it?”
"You met Anthony who showed you that there was more to life than your music."
“What good did that do me?”
Cecilia smiled. “More than you know.”
“I fail to see how you can be so optimistic about this. Surely a heartache is not something to be happy about?”
“It depends on how you look at it.”
Elizabeth covered her eyes, falling back onto the bed. Her sister was thoroughly confusing her. “Ceci, I think that I should like to be alone.”
“Oh no, there is no time for that. You must come downstairs.”
“I am not hungry.”
Her sister tapped her on her thigh, making her remove a hand to glare at her with one eye. “Elizabeth Ramsbury, get off this bed this instant. I shall not allow you to wallow in your tears.”
“I am certain that this is not how you cure heartache.”
“Well, it is for you. I need you to get up, wash your face, fix your hair, and come downstairs with me. I shall not push you to change your dress, although it does look hideous.”
“Ceci, I am not in the mood for your fashion advice. Besides, it is not as though we will be receiving any visitors. And if we do, then I shall say that I am unwell.”
Cecilia shook her head and tapped harder on her thigh.
“I shall drag you if I must. You have been in this room since our return from the garden party. Do you not think that you should come out? What of our uncle and aunt? They are worried about you as well. Would you have them fret for nought?”
That made Elizabeth feel guilty. Her aunt and uncle had been nothing but kind to her. She did not wish for them to fret.
“Very well. Give me a moment to gather myself before I come down.”
“I think that I should wait for you. I do not trust you to do as you have said.”
“You have my word.” She sat up. “Look, I am up. If you kindly move to the side, I can get off this bed and get started.”
Cecilia stood up. “All right. Ten minutes should be ample time for you.”
“You wish to time me?”
“If you have a goal to work towards, I believe that you will ensure that you keep your word. Ten minutes, Eliza. I shall see you in a moment.”
Elizabeth watched her sister leave the room before getting up and pouring water into a bowl to freshen up. She hoped that the cold water would lessen the redness around her eyes and nose, as well as reduce the swollen look that crying always seemed to give her. It was one of the reasons she seldom cried – she looked terrible while doing so. Elizabeth often admired and envied the women who could cry so prettily. Even a red nose and swollen eyes looked good on them.
She finally looked in the mirror, taking note of the damage her crying had done.
Ugh, red splotches. She looked as though she had been stung by a bee.” Her eyes, nose, and mouth were swollen, and her cheeks were a bright pink. And what on earth had happened to her hair? It was a tangled mess. Mama would not be pleased. This would not do – she could not go downstairs in this condition.
She plunged her face into the water, hoping that the coldness would take some of the swelling and redness away. When she could no longer hold her breath, she came up for air, spluttering slightly. Looking in the mirror, she tried to see a difference, but there was none. She plunged her face in for the second time, this time making sure to take a deep breath. The second immersion yielded more results, so she started on her hair, wincing as the brush came into contact with knots. Thick hair is both a blessing and a curse.
Elizabeth could vaguely hear a carriage draw up to the house and stop, but she paid it no mind as she knew that the postmaster often arrived at this time to deliver mail. A quick plait of her hair, a smear of face cream, a spray of perfume, and she was ready.
Ceci could not say that she had not put in an effort to look more presentable. Satisfied with her appearance, she put on a brave smile and made her way downstairs.
*
Cecilia could hardly contain her excitement as she skipped down the stairs. All was going as she had planned, now it was for Anthony to come and take over. She paused on the last step, composed herself, and continued the rest of the way to the parlour. There she found her aunt and uncle in playful conversation. They both looked up when she entered the room.
“How is she?” Aunt Deborah asked.
“As can be expected, but she will be coming down shortly.”
“Poor thing, to be rejected so early in the courtship,” her uncle commented.
Cecilia longed to tell them that everything would be resolved soon, but she had given her word to Anthony. Besides, this was fun. Finally, she was doing something meaningful for her sister. Cecilia was aware that she and her sister were miles apart in personality, but that did not mean that they could not be as they were before their differences drew them so.
“I believe that everything will work out in the end.”
“Scoundrel,” Uncle Noah exclaimed. “Leaving our Elizabeth for that Jezebel.”
“Uncle!”
“Is it not true?” he continued. “I may be old, but I have heard things about that Diana Lambert, her father too. That man is a fool to choose her over our Elizabeth.”
Cecilia smiled. “Uncle Noah, do you listen t
o gossip?”
“Gossip?” he asked. “Not me, child. It is information to me.”
Aunt Deborah laughed. “Tell the truth, Noah dear. You are quite the gossiper.”
Uncle Noah picked up his tea, mumbling as he did so. This only made them laugh harder. A knock at the door had them all turning as a maid entered.
“A Lord Cavendish is here to see Miss Ramsbury.”
Uncle Noah suddenly sprung out of his chair, making them jump.
“Noah dear!” her aunt cried. “Your back.”
"There is nothing wrong with my back, my dove. What is wrong is that man thinking that he can come in here and expect to see Elizabeth after he publicly rejected her. That she-devil did it to him, and he would do it to our Elizabeth? I shall not allow him into my house, or my name is not Noah Shepherd!"
Cecilia looked at her uncle. She had never seen him so heated before in her life. He was usually a calm man, one who would laugh sooner than become angry. Her aunt looked shocked herself, her face one of worry and a bit of excitement. The situation would surely escalate quickly if she did not step in, so she stood up, clearing her throat.
“Uncle Noah, Aunt Deborah, it is all right. Anthony is here for a special reason.”
“A special reason?” her aunt asked. “Do you know something?”
“I do, but I cannot speak of it yet – it is a surprise. Please, let Lord Cavendish in.”
Uncle Noah narrowed his eyes. “Let him in? Do I look as though I have taken leave of my senses? I shall tell that young man what he can do about his surprise. Where is he?”
He looked at the maid whose eyes were enlarged.
“He said that he would remain at the door until he was allowed in by the master of the house.”
He marched forward, Cecilia running after him. Her aunt followed, crying after them.
“Noah!” her aunt cried. “Think of your heart.”
“I am as strong as an ox, woman! Do not deter me from teaching that scoundrel a lesson!”
“But you will be hurt,” Aunt Deborah countered. “He is much younger.”
“But I have experience.”
Cecilia realised then that she had to say something or things could turn ugly.
“Uncle Noah, he is no longer with Miss Lambert. He is here to propose to Elizabeth.”
Everyone stopped.
“What is this?” her aunt asked.
“Yes, it is true,” she insisted. “He asked me not to speak a word of it, but as you both had become quite... excited, I realised that I had to say something.”
However, Uncle Noah was not yet satisfied with her explanation. “Oh, so he has had second thoughts? I see, Miss Lambert was not treating him well? It has only been a day – a record in my old eyes.”
Her aunt went to him and laid a hand on his arm. “Noah dear, let us hear what Lord Cavendish has to say.”
“Lord Cavendish?”
Cecilia heard her sister's stricken voice behind them. They all turned to look at the stairs where Elizabeth stood frozen.
“Yes,” Cecilia said. “He is here to see you. Will you accept his visit?”
Her sister remained silent.
“You do not have to see him, child,” Uncle Noah said.
"Noah," her aunt whispered. "Do not interfere. Allow the children to deal with this."
Cecilia looked at her sister, worried that she would deny him. Finally, she spoke.
“I shall see him in the parlour. Will that be acceptable?”
“Of course, dear,” her aunt replied.
Her sister nodded her head, but there was something in her eyes that Cecilia felt the need to reassure her.
“Eliza?”
“Hmm?”
“Everything will be all right.”
Elizabeth smiled. “You have said that already.”
Cecilia watched her sister walk to the parlour, her back straight but her head down. Then she turned to her uncle. “Uncle Noah, please open the door. It is rude to keep our visitor waiting. What would people say?”
“When did I start caring about what people say? But I shall open it – God help him if he hurts her again.”
“We will have to see,” she replied.
The door was opened, letting in the man who would either be her sister's happiness, or her pain.
*
Elizabeth's palms were sweating. Why should Anthony wish to see her? They had said all they needed to say yesterday.
Against her better judgement, she felt her hope rise. Was there a small chance that he had decided that Diana was not the woman for him? She became still when the door opened. Her back was turned, but somehow she knew that it was him.
“Why are you here, Anthony?”
“I have made a terrible mistake.”
Could it be...?
She took a deep breath, exhaled, and turned to face him. Her breath caught in her throat as soon as she saw him. How could her treacherous heart still beat wildly for him?
“And what mistake would that be?”
Her voice was surprisingly level, but she could not mask the emotions running through her. He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to change his mind. Instead, he walked to her, dropping down to his knees before her. With his head bowed, he spoke.
“Forgive me, Elizabeth.”
She found that she could not move, but she could speak. “What do I need to forgive you for? You have done nothing wrong.”
He looked up. “I have hurt you and hurt myself in the process. Going back to Diana was the worst decision I could have made, but even worse was letting you walk away from me.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes, hardly believing what he was saying. “I do not understand,” she whispered.
“Please, my love, look at me.”
My love? Silent tears started to stream down her face, but she did as he asked. On one knee, he held a beautiful ring to her. But she could not let herself give in to her feelings, she needed to know what he wanted from her.
“What is this? Why are you doing this?”
“Elizabeth, every moment spent with you has left an impression upon my life. From that moment at the balcony, I knew that there was something, but I could not understand then that my heart had begun to link itself to yours. Every smile, every laugh, every word you have uttered I have stored in my memory to think over when I am alone. Even when I am not with you, I think of you, planning when I might see you again. At first, I explained it away by saying that it was all part of the plan, but the heart does not lie. Yesterday at the fountain, I wished to tell you how I felt, but I believed that you did not feel the same way, so I remained silent. When I saw Diana, I shall admit that I did not know what to do. But when you walked away from me, I could feel my heart lose the peace and joy you had brought to my life."
Lords to Be Enamored With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 54
