by Joyce Alec
“Eliza,” Anthony whispered. “Do you ever feel these things with John?” He lifted his head to look into her face.
“No,” she breathed, seeing a faint smile on his face.
“What about with me?”
Eliza studied him, knowing she had to be honest. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, Phillip, I do.”
At her words, Anthony kissed her full on the mouth, his lips both soft and insistent at the same time. Instead of standing, frozen in place, Eliza found herself responding in kind, clinging to him as her body and heart cried out for more. Too soon, he stopped, pulling himself away as they both stared at one another, breathless.
“I am sorry, Eliza, I am sorry. I must stop before I forget myself.”
Eliza, her heart thumping loudly, stared at Phillip in astonishment. He had revealed to her a depth of emotion and a greater level of desire, and she could not deny her feelings for him. ‘On the path to love,' he had said. Was that true? Was she falling in love with Phillip?
They walked back to the house, stealing glances at each other, but being careful not to let it go any further. Eliza was embarrassed by her behavior, but she could not change her thoughts from the handsome gardener.
Later that evening, Lord Stockton seemed eager to spend as much time as he could with Eliza, most likely in an attempt to make up for his previous lack of decorum. On the whole, Eliza remained silent, struggling with all manner of emotions.
Her afternoon with Phillip had opened her eyes to a great many things, and she knew she could not face a future of banality with Lord Stockton. Mayhap, she thought to herself, if John kissed her, just as Phillip had, she would feel the same things. Then she would know for certain whether or not he aroused such feelings within her. There was no future with Phillip—she knew that—but that didn’t stop her from daydreaming about meeting him again.
"John," she began, completely interrupting his unheeded conversation. "Might we take a turn around the room?" Ignoring his surprise, she took him by the arm and walked slowly round the room before exiting into the corridor, as they had done at the beginning of the house party.
"I must apologize again, Eliza, for my behavior earlier today; it was most discourteous of me."
“You left me alone, John. Did you forget to tell my mother?”
A look of guilt crossed his face as he moved his gaze to somewhere over her left shoulder. “I must confess that I did, my dear. Your dear sister called me to join her party, and before I could explain myself, we had departed. I became so caught up in the conversation, I must confess that I quite forgot.” He hung his head. “I have behaved quite despicably, my dear. I must ask your forgiveness twice over.”
Eliza studied him for a moment, knowing that these next few minutes would determine her life’s path. “John, I want you to kiss me.”
His reaction was immediate. “Kiss you? Even after…?”
“Yes,” Eliza replied, keeping her voice steady. “Just be gentle, John.”
“I shall,” he murmured, enfolding her in his arms and leaning down to kiss her. It was gentle and slow, just as she’d requested, but Eliza felt nothing. After her experiences with Phillip, she knew that she would never be happy with John. A few moments later, John lifted his head, released her, and stepped back.
“Was that more satisfactory, my dear?”
Eliza smiled at him gently. “Yes, John, it was. Nevertheless, I must be honest with you. I do not think we shall suit.” His expression changed slightly, but she continued on, “I care about you very much, but I know that nothing will come from our relationship other than friendship, and I yearn for love.”
John said nothing for a few moments, Eliza scrutinizing each and every emotion that flickered over his features. He took a deep breath.
“Eliza,” he replied, taking her hand. “I must be honest. I am vastly relieved to hear you say those words.”
“You are?” Eliza’s surprise was obvious.
“Indeed, my dear, for I, too, long for love. I thought that I had found it with you, but these last days have shown me that my heart belongs to another. As things stood between us, I felt compelled to remain by your side.”
"John," Eliza replied, shaking her head at him in mock dismay. "You mean to say that we would have become engaged, and even married, if I had not said anything?"
"Of course, my dear," he answered. "My manners never fail me—most of the time." He gave her a rueful smile as she let out a sigh of relief, glad that their familiarity would not end in bad feeling. "Now I am free to pursue the one my heart is calling for," he finished.
“Oh, John,” Eliza breathed, as suddenly everything fell into place. “Do you mean to tell me that your heart belongs to my sister?”
She remembered the passing looks between them, the way John had used her sister’s given name with such a familiarity, Sophie’s blushes as she indicated it was not the earl’s attention she wanted to catch.
He nodded, almost crying with relief. “It is, it is, my dear Eliza, and she feels the same for me, I know she does.” He took her hand. “There has been nothing said between us, nothing of any affectionate nature, such was my loyalty to you. Oh, Eliza, you do not hate me?”
Eliza shook her head, marveling at the wonder of the situation. "Not at all, John. I think you will make my sister very happy. May I suggest you go and find her to give her this wonderful news? I shall be along momentarily."
John bowed over her hand before taking his leave, a lightness in his step that she had never seen before. Thinking hard, Eliza leaned against the wall, alone in the dim light. Propriety meant that John would have married her, regardless of his feelings for her sister. A marriage such as that would have been bound for disaster, no matter how much they respected one another. Propriety be damned!
She thought of Phillip, and how his kisses made her feel more than she ever thought possible—and she made her decision. She would pursue something, anything, with Phillip, regardless of what society thought. They were on the path to love; she was sure of it. Hugging herself with happiness, she began to make her way slowly back to the ballroom, thinking she'd barely sleep a wink that night.
Anthony slammed the door to his study so hard, it rattled on its hinges. He'd been walking along the hallway, only to see Eliza and John embracing in a corner. It had been like a knife to his heart. He'd given her so much of himself, believing himself half in love with her already, when she was playing him for a fool.
Perhaps it had all been a charade, a chance to practice the art of love before ensnaring Lord Stockton. The stories of Lord Penn, the sobbing, the crying—it had all been a show, enticing a humble gardener who would be all too willing to comfort a lady of quality. Throwing back a glass of whiskey, Anthony relished the feel of the sudden warmth in his belly, the fire burning his throat. He suddenly could not wait for tomorrow's ball. He'd show Eliza who he really was and see the chagrin and shock on her face as she realized she'd thrown away the chance to be a Countess. He'd relish the moment, enjoy her shame, and then turn away, never to see her again. A grim smile crossed his face as he poured himself another glass. She'd never see him coming.
8
Eliza trod back to her room, feeling bereft. Phillip had not been there, even though she'd waited for him. She thought back to the previous day when he'd promised, his lips close to hers, that he would see her again in the morning. Why had he not come? Her anticipation had kept her awake most of the night, as she longed to confess her love for him, knowing she would promise to be with him no matter what. Instead, she had been left lonely, so many unanswered questions filling her mind. She could not imagine that the Earl of Bessington had seen them, for they had left the woods separately, and Eliza did not think he would care, even if he had.
She remembered Phillip’s eyes, so open and honest, whispering words of love in her ear, not for one moment doubting him. There must be a perfectly reasonable explanation, Eliza told herself, climbing the stairs. She would simply have to wait until tomorr
ow.
No sooner had she stepped back into her room, then Sophie appeared at the door.
“Where have you been?” she exclaimed, launching herself at her sister. “I have been waiting and waiting for you!” She hugged Eliza, before twirling them both round and round. “I must tell you how, once more, grateful I am for freeing John,” she continued as Eliza stopped the spinning, struggling to catch her breath. “I have such wonderful news.”
Eliza sat down, a smile touching her lips. “May I guess what it is?” she asked, laughing at her sister’s obvious joy.
“No, no,” Sophie cried, throwing herself into a chair opposite. “I must say it myself, out loud, for I hardly dare to believe it. John – Lord Stockton – and I are betrothed!” She giggled, hiding her face in her hands before looking up at Eliza. “You are happy for us both, are you not?”
"I am delighted," Eliza replied, rising to hug her sister. "Truly, you need not worry about me. I am glad that John and I can be friends, but he was meant for you." The tears flowed unchecked now as, marring her joy, came the realization that she would have to give Lord Penn the Williams necklace. She could not afford for her sister to be caught up in any scandal, particularly now that she was betrothed. “When are you to make the announcement?”
“Tonight, at the ball,” Sophie squealed. Eliza nodded. It made sense; she and John could pass off their relationship as simply good friends, nothing more, and she would make sure to tell everyone who asked how much she was looking forward to having John as a brother-in-law.
“You are not sad, Eliza?”
Aware she had been lost in her thoughts, Eliza smiled up at Sophie. “Not in the least, Sophie. I wish you and John a lifetime of happiness.”
“Thank you, Eliza,” Sophie said, suddenly serious. “I do hope you will find the same happiness as I have found with John, one day.”
Eliza smiled softly, not saying anything. She believed she had found it with Phillip, but couldn't find words to express it to her sister. Now was not the time. Let Sophie enjoy her whirlwind of love, engagements, and other delights. Eliza's time would come.
Taking a deep breath, Eliza studied herself in the mirror. Her maid had worked a miracle! Her hair was pulled back in an intricate twist, with small curls left here and there to soften the appearance. She was dressed in a stunning blue ball gown, one that had been made for a previous engagement, but that she had never had the chance to wear. It complimented her eyes perfectly.
Sighing heavily, she walked to her wardrobe and picked up a small box, pulling out the Williams necklace. It was heavy in her hands, full of dazzling jewels that caught the candlelight. She had been so desperate to find a way to keep the necklace away from Lord Penn’s grasping hands, but there was no other path she could take. With a heavy heart, she placed it securely in her reticule. Mayhap a sudden inspiration would save her from her dreaded task. Lifting her chin, she left the room, making her way down the staircase and on into the ballroom. She was already late.
Anthony saw her enter, his breath leaving his body as he took in her appearance. He hated that he had been waiting for her and that she could have such an effect on him. She looked like an angel, but he knew she was nothing of the sort. He pictured the moment when he would introduce himself to her, see the shock on her face. But not yet.
He watched her as she found her sister and Lord Stockton, bowing to John and embracing her sister. A little odd, given her understanding of the man. Her mother had told him there was to be a formal announcement of an engagement tonight, a ‘Lord Stockton to Miss Williams', she had trilled, and he had found he couldn't breathe. Whilst the announcement would bring joy to his mother, for him, it would twist the knife that had not yet left his heart.
John looked so different; Eliza almost did not recognize him. He had a joy about his being that lit his entire face, almost as though it radiated from him.
“I am delighted to hear your news,” Eliza told him, honesty in her profession. “I am sure you will both get along very well together.”
“I thank you, Eliza,” John replied, his gaze on Sophie who was practically glowing with happiness. “I am certain that we will.”
“When will the joyous event take place?”
“As soon as I can arrange it,” John blurted, inciting a laugh from the two ladies. Turning to Sophie, John bowed and took her hand, as they excused themselves for the next dance. Her hands clasped in front of her, Eliza watched them dance together, glad they had found their way together.
“You have allowed him a dance with your sister, I see.”
“Phillip!” Eliza gasped, shocked to see the gardener dressed so finely. “Whatever are you doing here?”
"Ah, my dear Eliza, I must confess a little deception on my part." He saw her eyes grow wide, her gaze never leaving his. "I am not the gardener, as I told you. I am the Anthony Phillip Russell, the Earl of Bessington, at your service." He gave her a mock bow, seeing her face turn white with shock.
"Phillip? Are you not, Phillip? You are…"
“Anthony,” he replied, grimly. “You may have fooled me, Miss Williams, but you, too, have been made a fool.”
Eliza could only stare at him in disbelief, the surprise at his announcement throwing her completely off balance. He was not Phillip; he was the earl. She had kissed the earl. She had been in his arms. She could barely take it in.
“Why did you not tell me?” she whispered, swaying slightly.
Anthony shrugged, grasping her arm and leading her to a chair. “It seemed more entertaining to keep up the disguise. Besides, it showed me who you really are, so you need not keep up the pretense."
Eliza was confused, not understanding the cryptic words he spoke. "I have no pretense, Phillip – I mean, Anthony." She covered his fingers with her own gloved ones, hurt and dismayed when he swiftly pulled his away.
"I said, there is no need to keep up the pretense," he snarled. "I am done with you, Eliza, done, do you hear me? I am not to be mocked anymore. Once this evening is over, I intend to put you from my mind, never to think of you again!"
If Eliza had not been sitting, she was sure she would have fainted. This could not be the same man who spoke so tenderly to her in the garden. It could not be.
“Phillip,” she wavered, tremulously. “Why do you speak to me so?”
He let out a mocking laugh. “It is no more than you deserve,” he said, getting to his feet. “Goodbye, Eliza. I hope we shall never meet again.”
With that, he was gone, leaving Eliza feeling as though her entire world had gone to pieces. The gardener had been a ruse, a shallow disguise. The earl did not care for her, as she thought he had, his words tearing holes in her heart. She felt emotionless, as though he had torn every last bit of feeling from her.
With nowhere else to go, she stumbled her way up the stairs and closeted herself in the nearest room. She needed to be alone, to compose herself enough to return for her sister’s announcement. Thereafter, she would plead a headache and return to her room. Even the thought of seeing the earl made her want to weep, as she struggled to hold the tears back. It was of no use. Giving in, she felt the tears drip down her cheeks as he curled herself into a ball, sitting on the floor in the earl’s drawing room.
Anthony wished he felt better. Instead, he felt worse, guilty even, over his treatment of Eliza. He had thought her shock on learning who he truly was would have been enough for him, but instead her face dogged his mind. His words had been cruel, but he kept telling himself she deserved it.
“May I introduce my son, Lord Bessington,” his mother beamed, bringing over a woman and, he presumed, her daughter. “Anthony, this is Mrs. Williams and her youngest daughter, Miss Sophie Williams.”
“How do you do?” Anthony replied, all decorum as he bowed over each lady’s hand.
“I am sorry I could not introduce you to my eldest daughter,” Lady Williams began. “I simply cannot find her anywhere.”
“We have already been introduced,” Anthony sai
d quickly, wishing to change the subject immediately.
“Indeed!” Mrs. Williams looked surprised. “How fortunate. Well, if you do come across her, my lord, I would be vastly obliged if you would tell her I am in search of her. We cannot do the announcement without her.”
He felt sick to his stomach at the mention of the betrothal announcement. “Of course,” he mumbled, bowing to take his leave.
“Mama, I am sure she will not mind,” he heard the daughter say. “She has already given us her congratulations.”
Anthony froze in place, feeling his heart miss a beat. Dread filled him as he walked back to the ladies, bowing briefly.
"I apologize for the interruption," he began quietly. "But what is to be announced this evening?"
"Oh, you had not heard," Mrs. Williams laughed. "I do apologize, my lord. Lord Stockton," she gestured in his direction with her fan, "is recently engaged to my daughter, Sophie."
Anthony saw the beaming smile on the face of Miss Sophie Williams, and his heart sank. What had he done? Without a word, he left Mrs. Williams and Sophie behind, leaving them both surprised and slightly offended.
“Well,” Mrs. Williams said to her daughter. “For an earl, he certainly lacks manners.”
“Never mind, Mama,” Sophie replied, taking her mother’s hand. “Let us go and find John. I am most anxious for our engagement to be announced!”
Anthony walked through the swirl of guests, desperately looking for Eliza. He did not know what he would say to her or how he would explain his actions, but he would crawl on his knees if he had to. What a fool he had been. Such cruelty towards the woman he loved. He had to find her; he had to. She was not here, not hidden away in any corner and not in the powder room either, the maid told him. He suddenly recalled her story about Lord Penn and that this was the very evening she was to give him the necklace. Anthony stood for a moment, breathing hard, completely lost as where to go or what to do. He needed to find Eliza. Turning to one of his footmen, he began to ask some questions.
