Beyond the usual run of questions, mostly from Lady Hanbury herself, there had curiously seemed very little for them to talk about. Lady Hanbury had done no more than ask for the briefest details; who had told Daniel the news? And what had happened?
But once Daniel had parted with his information, telling them that Lady Caroline Harker, her eyes full of excitement, had given him the news that the Duke of Lytton had died very shortly after suffering a severe seizure the previous evening, there seemed to be nothing left to discuss.
The truth was, of course, that there would have been much to discuss if the two of them were alone. She would have admitted to her fears that her husband, seeing his wife running from Lytton Hall with his attorney, had risen to his feet to give chase and immediately fallen to the ground in the grip of a seizure that would, moments later, take his life.
She still did not entirely know the details of it all and wondered if she ever would. And the fact was, had her husband not treated his own body so badly and for so long, his anger would never have ended fatally.
A change in the Reverend’s tone brought Eliza back to the here and now, and following the direction of his gaze, she realized it was time for her to take a handful of the small mound of prepared earth to throw on top of her husband’s coffin as it was lowered into the ground.
Reaching out for the fine, dusty earth, Eliza could see that her hand was shaking violently. So much had happened of late that she could hardly pinpoint the thing which had made her feel so anxious, and in the end, she simply had to settle upon the idea that she was still so shocked that Augustus had died.
Throwing the earth onto the coffin with a little too much haste, she rose to standing again and watched as the new Duke and Duchess of Lytton performed the same little ritual.
Shortly thereafter, the service came to a merciful end. Eliza stood staring blindly down into the hole, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the earthen walls and not Augustus’ coffin. She was aware of people moving away and the gentle rumble of conversation as her fellow mourners came out of the trance that seemed to traditionally affect people at a graveside.
“Was it very awful, my dear?” Ariadne Holloway was suddenly at her side, her little hand quickly gripping Eliza’s.
“I can hardly believe the last days have happened at all, Ariadne.”
“It is shocking, my dear, but I do not think that it is entirely surprising. From everything you have told me about the old Duke, he was never going to live a long and healthy life.”
“But you know the rest of it, Ariadne,” Eliza said in a whisper. “You know what happened. You know what really caused it.”
“I know what happened before he was taken ill, my dear,” Ariadne also whispered. “And I am bound to tell you that I burned your letter. There is nothing in my possession to give any hint of it.”
“Thank you. I just had to tell you. I had to say it, if only in a letter.”
“But everything you told me still does not add up to this,” she said, and her eyes darted briefly in the direction of the grave. “Augustus did this to himself, Eliza. You have suffered enough this last year without adding erroneous guilt to it all. He was the one who chose not to listen to reason. He was the one who chose to let his emotions flare out of control. And he was the one who chose to drink himself unconscious night after night. I will not have you turn yourself inside out with questions that can never be answered.”
“I do not know what I would do without you,” Eliza said truthfully, her eyes filling with tears. “And I know you might not believe me, but I am sad. I am sad that Augustus did not live a better life, and that he died knowing that I had never loved him and never would.”
“I know, but that was something he knew well himself before he even married you. Never forget his part in all of this.”
“Yes, you are quite right. This is not the life I asked for, not the life that I had chosen for myself.”
“My dear, your mother and father are peering over. I do not think you can let them leave without at least having a few minutes conversation with them. Forgive me, but I think you must.” Ariadne squeezed her hand firmly.
“Oh yes, of course,” Eliza said and nodded gravely. “Will you wait here for me?”
“Of course I shall.”
Eliza slowly walked the short distance to her family, aware of the eyes of her mother and father on her the whole time. Her brother Henry was standing at the side of his love, Penelope, looking embarrassed as if he could not quite meet her gaze.
“Eliza, my darling.” Her mother was the first to speak. “What a very awful day for you.”
“Indeed,” Eliza said neutrally.
“You are so very young to have suffered so much.” Eliza could see the tears welling in her mother’s eyes, and for a moment, she wanted to put an end to her misery and discomfort. “I wish there was something I could say to make it better. But I think that there is no right thing to say in this circumstance.”
“I daresay it is awkward,” Eliza said in a tone that was so flat she sounded utterly exhausted. “After all, how does one commiserate with a widow who never wanted to be married in the first place? How does one say they are sorry for such a loss to the person who could never have loved the man she was sold away to?”
“Eliza, this is hardly the time, my dear,” her father said in a tone which reminded her of the hundreds of other times he had gently chastised her in her life.
“Then when is?”
“Perhaps your father and I could call upon you? You will be in the Dower House now, I suppose?” her mother went on nervously.
“I suppose I shall be in the Dower House when I return to Lytton Hall.”
“Return?” Her mother raised her eyebrows.
“I have been staying with Lord and Lady Hanbury. I do not think you are acquainted with them, but they have been very kind to me since I went to Lytton Hall.” Eliza had been hoping to hurt her mother’s feelings with such a declaration, and looking at her, could see that she had done just that.
However, she was not as gratified by it as she had thought she might be and had been on the point of apologizing when she saw her brother hold out his arm for Penelope to take.
She realized then, without a doubt, that the two of them must now be engaged to be married. She turned her head sharply to look at them both, and Henry, once again unable to hold her gaze, looked down.
Something about it rekindled the fire of her betrayal and anger; it reminded her that men seemed to always have their way in everything, that they would always get whatever it was they wanted.
Henry had not been compelled to marry for money, even though he would be the one to take the title of Earl when the time came. She realized then that her marriage had, ultimately, been for Henry’s benefit. Her father had chosen one child over another, and she knew that she could not forgive it.
“I shall be in my period of mourning for the next year,” she said hastily when her mother did not speak.
“But you shall be allowed visitors, close family, and friends, at the Dower House, surely?” her mother went on.
“I cannot think of it at the moment, Mama. There is too much else in my mind which currently demands my attention.”
“Then you will write to me, my dear? Perhaps just a few lines when the time is right, you will write to me and tell me that I can come?”
“Perhaps,” she said and nodded her head with almost vicious firmness before turning to leave them.
Eliza bit back tears as she walked away, hardly knowing why it was she felt so sad. After all, they had treated her so badly. They had identified her as the only member of the family who was completely expendable, whatever the circumstances.
Although she did not turn back, she knew that her family could do no other than leave, make their way back slowly to their own carriage. All she wanted was to be back at Ariadne’s side and take whatever comfort her dear friend could provide.
“Eliza, I was terribly sorry to hear of your
bereavement.” Recognizing the voice, Eliza stopped dead in her tracks and looked to her side.
Seemingly from nowhere, Miles Gainsborough had appeared. She had not seen him during the service, although it was true to say that she had not made a thorough study of all present.
To have him suddenly there returned her to the peculiar dreamlike feeling of earlier, the idea that nothing was quite real. After all, there was no reason for Miles Gainsborough to attend. Not only had he not been a friend of the Duke of Lytton, but she was certain that he had never even been introduced to the man.
“Thank you,” she said, unable to tear her mind from memories of that last, fateful meeting.
“I hope you are managing,” he said and seemed embarrassed as if casting about for something to say.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, wondering how it was that she could think of nothing more to say.
As far as she could remember when they had been together, conversation had always been a very easy thing to find. There was always something for them to laugh at, something for them to talk about.
“I really am very sorry, Eliza, but I am pleased to see you again nonetheless.”
“Thank you,” she said again and simply stood looking at him, willing the words to come.
But he had taken her so unawares, and she felt shocked to her core. To look up into his handsome face after a year was suddenly too much.
He looked as if he had not changed a bit, dressed in dark clothes with his dark hair and eyes, so tall and handsome, she was transported back to that day as if there had been no time in between. And, the more she studied him, the more she remembered her heartbreak and that jangle of feelings she had been ignoring for so long.
“I have startled you, have I not? I am terribly sorry, Eliza, for I would not have wished to add any further upset to this day. I hope you can forgive me,” he said and bowed.
“I had better make my way back to Ariadne.” She was suddenly desperate to be away from him, not trusting herself at that moment not to fling her arms around his neck and beg him not to leave her there.
If only he had not come. If only she had not felt herself back in time as if none of it had happened, her handsome dark-haired love standing in front of her with the promise of their life together untouched, unsullied.
“Oh yes, course,” he said although it was clear to her that he did not yet want to release her.
But she was at her husband’s funeral, and she knew she did not have the time or the privacy in which to formulate easier conversation with the man she ought to have married.
Daniel had been thinking about the upcoming funeral for days, knowing in his heart that it would be the next time he saw Eliza. After he had delivered the awful news, there had been nothing for it but to leave Hanbury Hall.
No pressure had been brought to bear by either Lord or Lady Hanbury, but he suddenly came up hard against his own place in things.
He had been her husband’s attorney and was doing no more than delivering the news that the man had expired. With the news imparted, his function was complete. There had been nothing left to say, especially not in front of Lord and Lady Hanbury.
It had disturbed him a great deal that he had found himself looking forward, in a perverse way, to his old employer’s funeral. Not that he had any desire to see the man finally planted in the ground, but he did want to know how Eliza was.
More than once he had thought to call upon her at Hanbury Hall, but he knew that such a thing was impossible. She was already in mourning, albeit not in her own home, and for a man to call upon her so early on, before her husband was even buried, would be seen by all as disgraceful, possibly even by Lady Hanbury herself.
He had watched as Eliza clawed her way through the service, keeping her eyes to the front in the little chapel in which she had been married just a year before. And, as all the mourners had taken their place around the grave in the family plot, he had seen how she could not quite look at the coffin.
What a country England was when a woman was forced to stand with strangers on such a day. She should have been permitted to stand with her own family, her mother and father, and brother.
Although he knew that there was a great rift between them, surely, they would have been more comfort to her than the new Duke and Duchess of Lytton.
And he could see throughout that Ariadne Holloway had been anxiously biding her time, waiting for the moment she could join her dearest friend.
But, more than anything, Daniel knew that he wanted to be the one to comfort her. He had been her friend, her only confidant at Lytton Hall for so long. And he had comforted her before, had he not?
He knew, of course, that no such thing could take place. He had only comforted her in absolute privacy, and it would be a foolish thing to attempt. Daniel knew that nothing could pass between them on that day beyond a brief nod and a hasty expression of condolence.
He watched with relief as Ariadne made her way to her the moment the service was complete. And he watched with consternation the awkward conversation with her parents, the look of devastation on her mother’s face as her only daughter had walked away.
How he wished that things could be different for her. How he wished she could find some way to forgive her family so that she had them, at least, in the twelve months of mourning that was to come.
Just as he had been about to work himself up into anger at the idea of a young woman of twenty being locked out of the world for a whole year for the sake of a man who had treated her so cruelly, his eye was drawn to a handsome, dark-haired young man he had never seen before.
Seeing the look of shock on Eliza’s face told Daniel exactly that the young man in question could only be the one she had been set to marry before she had been thrown onto the Duke of Lytton’s path.
And Daniel, for his part, could not take his eyes off the pair of them.
Chapter 26
Only a week later saw Daniel Winchester cautiously making his way to the Lytton Hall Dower House. He had been riding back down the long driveway from the hall itself, and as he had done more than once in the preceding days, had let his eyes stray to the little glint of white stone behind the tall foliage of the small gardens.
This time, however, he gave in to his own want and drew up his horse. He climbed down and walked it in through the large, wrought iron gateway, and quickly found himself at the front of the house.
A stable lad he did not recognize from the hall came out to take his horse from him, and he wondered if the new Duke had secured Eliza staff of her own.
When a smiling housekeeper opened the door to speak to him, he realized that Dixon Musgrave must have kept the household staff in their entirety at the hall and really had employed new servants for the Dower House.
When the housekeeper showed him into the drawing room, leaving the two of them alone, he smiled at Eliza tentatively.
She looked as beautiful as ever, her dark hair loosely secured at the back of her head and looking full and soft. Despite the grave, black gown, she still looked wonderful to him.
“Mr Winchester,” she said and rose to her feet, bowing her head a little before the two of them took their seats.
“How are you?” he said and looked into her eyes, keen to know that she was doing well.
“It all seems a bit strange, to be honest. But I must admit, I already sleep better here in this little house than ever I did at the hall. It is very peaceful.”
“Yes, and so far away from the hall that you cannot even see it,” he said with a smile.
“Mr Winchester, please forgive me for am a little nervous about your visit,” she said and fixed him with a steady gaze.
“Nervous? Please believe me I would do nothing to make you comfortable,” he said and felt suddenly as if he ought not to have come at all.
He looked around the drawing room, its muted green upholstery and its white panelled walls having something of a calming effect.
“No, I am not made nervous by you,
Mr Winchester.” She gave a light laugh, but she was clearly not relaxed. “For heaven’s sake.” She shook her head, and he took the opportunity to laugh along with her, albeit feeling a sense of disquiet. “I am made nervous by your visit. There is still so much that I do not know of my husband’s last day, Mr Winchester. And I cannot help wondering who else might be aware of my final moments in the hall before I fled at your side.”
“You are worried about Nella West?”
“Of course I am. If she tells the new Duchess about everything that happened, she is bound to tell her husband.”
“Nella West is no longer at the hall. Nobody has seen her since the morning after Augustus Tate’s passing. It seems she packed her things very early and fled. Perhaps she was worried that she would be blamed for the Duke’s seizure, given that she had caused the entire fuss in the first place.”
For the Love of a Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 20
