Eliza folded the handbill without a downward glance. ‘Sir Brenley is wrong. There is to be no more work on lengthening the tunnel. Wheal Karrek is not extending under the ocean.’
Eliza waited until they were alone in the office before she gave vent to her fury. She pulled off her gloves, one fierce finger at a time, trying to hide her irritation, her hurt, and Eaton ached for her. This was another whole betrayal she had to face—loyal workers backing away from her, unsure who to take orders from—and it was worse than anything Brenley could have printed in his handbill. ‘Give me the paper, Eliza.’ Eaton took it, his own temper rising as he read. The man deserved to be called out for his vicious lies.
‘Is it awful?’ Eliza’s cool sangfroid did not fool Eaton. He crumpled the paper and threw it into the fire. It was bad enough that Brenley had called her a trollop for her ‘immoral’ association with the Marquess of Lynford. She didn’t need to see what else had been written. Cade Kitto would not be pleased, nor would the parents at the conservatory if word of this reached that far. Eaton doubted it would have teeth in the long run. A man like himself was allowed his peccadilloes, but in the short term the conservatory could founder until this was resolved.
‘It is what we expected.’ Eaton shrugged. ‘Shall I send a man down to gather the pamphlets up and burn them? We could have a bonfire on the beach.’
‘Like the king in Sleeping Beauty, who burns all the spinning wheels?’ Eliza gave a tired sigh. ‘The worst has probably already been done. Everyone will have read them by now.’ Eaton hoped not. If anything happened to the conservatory, Eliza would blame herself and Eaton didn’t want to be in the position of being forced to remove her from the patrons’ list. To choose between Cade and Eliza would be an impossible situation.
‘Perhaps I’d like to burn them for my sake, then, if not yours.’ Eaton smiled his reassurance. ‘Inigo arrives today. In the meantime, remember that Brenley’s words can’t hurt you. You control the company. He can do nothing but rant.’
‘And people can do nothing but listen,’ Eliza warned. It was hard to be patient. Waiting carried with it its own risks—the school’s viability, a scandal that would last longer than it needed to. He wanted to quash it now before it ran rampant, before Eliza could be hurt further. Perhaps he should have framed his offer differently in the Trevaylor Woods. He’d just thrown it out there haphazardly as a contingency. Would it have been better to have asked her seriously then, before she’d seen Brenley’s vicious pamphlet calling her a whore? If anything, the situation was more desperate now than it had been yesterday. He didn’t want her facing his proposal from a vulnerable position. Perhaps he should ask her tonight after the meeting with Inigo. She would be more desperate still tomorrow, his window of opportunity slipping away exponentially.
Each day that passed weakened his own position. She would not believe he asked out of love instead of duty. And each day his doubt grew. Was proposing to her the right thing or the expeditious thing, a selfish knee-jerk reaction to a problem? It could solve her immediate problems, fulfil his own wants, but it did not change what he could offer her. He wasn’t yet convinced either of them could live with that no matter how much his heart wanted it.
Chapter Nineteen
Eliza waited nervously in the grand salon of the school for the arrival of Eaton’s friends. Sophie was in her element, thrilled at the chance to play on the Sébastien Érard piano. Eaton sat beside her, reading through documents. They’d decided meeting at the school would draw less attention and provide neutral ground. Anyone might think the arrivals were here as potential new patrons instead of in town to unseat Gismond Brenley.
‘They’re here, my lord,’ Johns announced in hushed tones just after the clock struck four. Classes were done for the day and the boys were outside taking exercise on the back lawn. They would have the place to themselves. ‘All four of them. Shall I show them in?’
‘Four?’ Eliza shot a querying glance at Eaton. ‘Did you invite others?’ They’d only been expecting two. But Eaton seemed as surprised as she.
‘The Duke of Bude and the Duchess are with your friends, my lord,’ Johns supplied and Eliza’s nerves tensed. Eaton’s parents were here! But there was no time to panic. The duchess sailed into the room.
‘There you are, my darling.’ His mother entered, tall and graceful. Anyone could see that Eaton got his looks from her and his bearing from his father. She crossed the room straight to him, embracing him warmly. ‘Inigo tells us there’s quite the stir down here.’
His father followed, shaking his hand. Inigo and Cassian clapped him on the back in turn. Cassian shot him a look that said, I couldn’t stop them.
‘We do apologise for surprising you,’ his mother offered.
‘I’m always happy to see you, Mother. Let me introduce one of the school’s leading patrons, Mrs Eliza Blaxland, and her daughter, Miss Sophie.’ Eaton ushered Sophie forward, keeping a hand on her shoulder. Sophie wasn’t normally a shy girl, but one never knew when faced with so many strangers.
Introductions made, Eaton gestured for Johns to take Sophie to the kitchens for gingerbread and milk and to close the salon doors on the way out.
Eliza found herself with Inigo Vellanoweth on her left, Eaton on her right, and the Duke and Duchess of Bude across from her on a sofa. She was surrounded by powerful men on all sides. A frisson of foreboding ran down her spine. It was as she’d feared when Eaton had originally put his scheme to her. Had she simply traded one board of shareholders for an even more powerful one? How would she ever wrest power from these men if she needed to? She simply wouldn’t be able to buy them out as she had some of the previous board. What else could she have done, though? She needed Eaton’s friends. The board was still corrupt, it still plotted against her. Without them, she could not unseat her enemies.
Inigo was eager to share his information, ‘Brenley has stocks in other mining ventures. He’s buying up everything he can get his hands on. My sources tell me he’s looking to establish his own cartel. If he succeeds, it will be a virtual monopoly.’
‘Then Thorp and Blackmore are in on it, too,’ Eliza mused out loud.
‘It would seem so,’ Inigo affirmed. ‘You, Mrs Blaxland, are all that stands in his way.’ It was not an enviable position to be in. ‘Given what we now know, it’s not surprising he made such a generous offer to buy you out, or that he’s so angry you’ve refused.’
Eliza held up the sheaf of documents. ‘Then we have to confront him now. We tell him we’ll have him brought up on charges of attempted fraud, that he’s buying me out because he knows there’s more money to be made. My shares will be worth five times this next year. We’ll tell Thorp and Blackmore, too, and see if we can’t divide and conquer.’
Eaton nodded his approval. ‘It looks as though we all have some writing to do. Inigo, you can draft the letters today informing Brenley of what we know about his actions. Eliza, you should send a letter of your own as well, introducing the new shareholders. Inigo tells me he deposited their funds in the bank at Truro where they are awaiting your permission to proceed.’
The sooner the better, Eliza thought. If they could arrest Brenley and expose his crime, there would be no more threat. If she could get the new shareholders in place quickly, Eaton needn’t sacrifice himself for her. The group rose, preparing to go their separate ways, she to the kitchens to retrieve Sophie. Bude smiled at Eaton. ‘My son, if I might have a word?’ Ah, Eliza thought. Speaking of dividing and conquering.
* * *
‘I can see you’re taken with her and why that might be the case. She’s attractive and intelligent. She’s certainly in need of protection. Even if we’re successful in repopulating her board, her reputation may never recover without the benefit of marriage,’ Bude said once the room had emptied.
Eaton blew out a breath. ‘I can’t give her that.’ And the realisation was tearing his heart out. ‘I can’t do
that to her. She wants children.’
‘She has one.’
‘She wants more. She dreams of a big family, but she insists on not remarrying in order to preserve her autonomy. Even if she were considering marriage, I can’t take her hope from her.’
‘You’ve told her?’
‘Yes. She knows.’ Eaton began to pace. A simple marriage would be the final coup de grâce to cut off the burgeoning scandal before it was out of control.
‘Even so, most women would leap at the chance to marry a man of your assets,’ his father pressed. ‘Perhaps you underestimate her? She comes with her own limitations as well. She’s older than you are. She’s had her best childbearing years. It may be she won’t have any more children regardless.’
Eaton studied his father. ‘What are you saying?’
‘Ever since we’ve realised what your illness took from you, you’ve looked at it as a curse. I know it is a disappointment, not only for yourself, but to your mother and me. Not for the succession, but for yourself. If ever there was a man who should have a family, it’s you. You have so much to give in that regard. So, what I say next in no way makes up for what you have lost, but there is a silver lining.
‘If you can withstand the gossip, you are able to wed where you wish. You can marry a rich mine-owner’s widow if you choose. You needn’t consider an alliance, a bloodline or an heir. You need only consider your heart. Do you know how many men with titles can do that? Very few.’ His father’s encouragement was overwhelming. Always, his parents had supported him in whatever endeavour he undertook. It was a feature that made the Falmage family unique, one that society often misunderstood. But never had Eaton felt his father’s love more fully as he felt it in this moment.
‘There’s the family to consider. It will reflect on all of us,’ Eaton replied. He’d never fully explored marrying outside the ton for that reason.
‘Your sisters are all married and settled. I doubt your decision will affect them much at this point or that their husbands would allow any rumor against them. If you love her, don’t let your assumptions about what you can’t offer her stand in your way. Put the question to her, let her decide.’ His father put a firm hand on his shoulder. ‘You looked very natural with her daughter today. It was all I could wish for you.’
‘What if she says no?’ Eaton toyed with the inkwell. That was his greatest fear. He had to face it now that there was no longer family honour to hide behind. If Eliza said no, he would lose her. There could be no middle ground here.
‘Then it’s her loss. Eaton, you are worth loving. It’s time you started believing it. Whatever her reasons for resisting marriage, she is attracted to you, she cares for you. I watched her at the meeting today, the way she’d look at you, study you, listen to you. Go after her.’
‘I want to be sure. I don’t want this proposal to be about the current crisis. Perhaps I should wait so that she knows my affections for her are not driven solely by resolving the situation with Brenley. I want her to know my love is constant.’ But even he knew the argument was a stalling technique, a reason to delay the question. If he asked, then he would know. All would be resolved one way or the other. Eaton wasn’t sure he was keen on such finality. If she refused, for ever was a long time to live with a broken heart. He would do it at dinner tonight. He’d already planned a special supper in the school’s garden to take Eliza’s mind off the situation. Now, the supper took on an additional import. It might be the most important meal he’d ever eaten.
Chapter Twenty
Saying yes to dinner had been a sound idea in theory, a seemingly natural extension of their day. How many dinners had they shared over the past month? There had been that first dinner, dinners with Sophie at the dower house, picnic suppers in the orangery. Dinners had taken many different shapes over the weeks she’d been in Porth Karrek, but no dinner was like this one.
For starters, this supper was not held in any of their usual places—not the orangery, not the dower house—but at the school, in the gardens where they’d first kissed. Secondly, the garden looked beautiful, far too lovely for a regular meal. The place was lit with paper lanterns strung overhead and candles on the table set for two. Beside the table, two smudge pots burned, creating heat against the autumn night. Eliza stood in the doorway leading to the gardens, taking it all in and wondering what Eaton was up to. What had he and his father spoken of after the meeting?
Eaton approached from behind. He was in dark evening clothes again, his hair combed, his manners impeccable as he placed a gentle hand at her back and kissed the side of her neck. ‘You look beautiful, Eliza.’ She’d worn a silk gown of peacock blue and taken time with her hair, and she was glad she had. Regardless of what Eaton intended for this supper, she would be leaving soon. There weren’t many dinners left between them. ‘Come this way, our fairy garden awaits.’
He held her chair and poured champagne. ‘What do you think of the garden?’
‘It is stunning. This is a lot of effort for a simple supper.’ That worried her. What was this dinner really about?
Servants brought dishes and lifted the covers, revealing stuffed game hens and fresh vegetables. ‘It’s a truffle stuffing,’ Eaton explained, offering her a tiny pitcher. ‘And this is my very own truffle oil.’ He drizzled a small amount over the game hen. ‘I thought about having dinner at Falmage Hill. It’s time you see the house, but it’s been empty too long. It doesn’t feel like a home, not right now, not like it used to when I was young. And what I want to discuss, I want to do here where we first met.’ He reached for the champagne bottle and refilled her glass.
‘Do you mean to seduce me with champagne?’ Eliza asked, feeling off balance.
Eaton merely smiled. ‘Perhaps, in my own way.’ His eyes held hers and Eliza felt a frisson of desire course down her spine. No one would ever look at her the way Eaton did. No one would ever see her the way he did. ‘I want to fill Falmage Hill with a family of my own—with you and Sophie. Brenley cannot defy a duchess. Put Brenley’s threat to rest before it truly takes hold. What I am asking you is to let me be a husband to you, Eliza. Let me be a father to Sophie. I cannot give you other children, but I can love you with everything at my disposal: my money, my influence, my name and my heart.’ He reached for her hands. ‘Marry me, Eliza.’
This was the purpose of tonight; a true proposal, one not as easily brushed off as the one in the woods. He wanted to marry her. He wanted to bind himself to her. She could not allow it. He was doing it for the wrong reasons. She was reeling, her thoughts turning in fragments like Brewster’s kaleidoscope. ‘You can’t marry me. Dukes marry debutantes with immaculate pedigrees.’ She was groping for arguments, for ways to protect herself, to protect him. How would she find the strength to resist, to say what she must when he was touching her? Reminding her of how he made her feel—strong, invincible, as if the world and its narrow-mindedness could indeed be overcome, as if she didn’t need to fight alone. But the world didn’t work that way. She couldn’t work that way. To accept would cost her too much and him, too, if he stopped to think about it. He wasn’t thinking now. He was worried about Brenley and he was reacting in the only way he knew how.
‘You aren’t meant for me, Eaton.’ She locked her gaze on him, forcing him to look at her, as if her gaze alone could make him understand. ‘You can’t marry me, I’m not duchess material.’
‘You will be a splendid duchess.’
She gave him a hard, querying look. ‘A mine-owner’s widow? Who would accept me? Maybe it doesn’t matter here in Cornwall so much, but it will matter in London. I will not be an asset to your ambitions there.’
‘Then we won’t spend time in London,’ Eaton answered easily. Didn’t he see it wasn’t that simple?
‘You can’t just say that. You will eventually have obligations in the House of Lords.’ Eliza sighed. How did she make Eaton see reason when she didn’t even want to?
‘You will come to hate me, Eaton. I will be a barrier to the life you have now and the life you were raised to have. I don’t belong in your world.’ She gave him a soft smile. ‘I will miss you, though.’ Her heart was breaking. Couldn’t he see this wasn’t easy? That she hadn’t the will for these arguments?
‘The life I was raised to was drastically altered when I was a boy. Yes, I will be a duke, I will sit in the House of Lords, God willing, years from now after my father has had a very long life. But I will not be the usual kind of duke, Eliza. I needn’t concern myself with heirs. I can marry where I choose and I choose you.’
She was silent. ‘You are sacrificing yourself for me. It’s too much. I can’t allow it.’
‘This is about love. I love you, Eliza. I would want this even if Brenley didn’t threaten.’ Eaton gripped her hands. ‘What more can I do to show you that I care for you? Why won’t you fight, Eliza? Why won’t you fight for us?’
‘Because there is no us, Eaton. I am just someone you are helping. You are doing this because you don’t want to lose to Brenley. You want to protect me. You don’t really want to marry me.’
‘The hell I don’t,’ he growled. He pushed a frustrated hand through his hair, his carefully combed waves tousling under his fingers. ‘You are exactly what I want.’ He paused, eyes narrowing in thought. ‘Why don’t you want to marry me? Do you know what I think? I think you’re the one who’s afraid to lose. You think by marrying me you lose control, you lose the mines, your independence. But that’s not how it would be. Eliza, you would be freer, more powerful than you’ve ever been. The mines would be yours entirely, Sophie’s legacy protected always. Your money would be your own. I have no desire for it. Everything you’ve wanted—safety, security—would be yours. Think of the mining schools we could build. I can’t give you children, but we can have a life together based on love and respect.’
The Secrets of Lord Lynford Page 18
