She did not want to finish the sentence any more than she wanted to entertain the notion of Frances being institutionalized. This time it was Frances who stopped and she peered defiantly at Elizabeth as she pulled her arm from her sister’s grasp.
“What fantasy? Mr. Barlough and I speak often!”
“If you say so,” Elizabeth muttered, unwilling to begin a fight she could not end on good standing. “I believe you.”
“I speak the truth!” Frances insisted. “Mr. Barlough told me! We will all go to Pembroke together and I will be with my love soon!”
“Perhaps you were dreaming again,” Elizabeth suggested softly, not wanting to upset her. When Frances got an idea in her mind, it was oft difficult to change it, no matter how unreasonable it might be. Elizabeth did not wish to create a scene in the marketplace when the townsfolk were already regarding them with such scrutiny and disgust.
“Come along now, Father awaits us.”
“Liza, I am not daft nor am I as simple as you and David would believe!”
There was sternness to her tone which surprised Elizabeth. A vivid clarity shone in Frances’ yellow-brown eyes and she narrowed her lids in anger.
“I do not believe you are daft,” Elizabeth answered defiantly for she truly did not believe her sister was a simpleton. “You are kind and wonderful—”
“I have not lost my senses!” Frances cried. “I will show you the letters when we return to the manor.”
“I would like very much to see them.” Elizabeth hoped her tone was placating enough but she could see Frances was becoming agitated.
“Come along, Franny,” Elizabeth urged. Around her, the stares of the townspeople were becoming more distinctive and Elizabeth worried that she was already whetting their wagging tongues. Elizabeth wondered what they thought when they saw the ladies of Gordon walking through the streets.
To them we are a hussy and an imbecile, she realized with great sadness. It matters not that we are sensitive and loving beneath the titles and innuendo.
The ride back to the house was silent and Elizabeth could see her sister was angered by how she had reacted to her news. Elizabeth reminded herself that Frances’ emotions were akin to that of a child and must be treated accordingly.
If she wishes to believe she is receiving letters from Mr. Barlough, who am I to dismiss her imagination? It is good to see her happy.
It was only a short trip back to the manor and when they stopped, Frances did not wait for the coachman to escort her down. Frances all but leapt from the coach, stunning the coachman as he rounded the carriage, and disappearing into the house as Elizabeth stared after her.
“She seems quite upset,” David commented. “What happened?”
Elizabeth had not seen her young brother nearby. His bow and arrows were slung over his shoulders.
“She got particularly worked up over a matter I am not certain is real,” Elizabeth confessed, sighing heavily. “I will give her time before I seek her out.”
She nodded at her brother’s gear and chuckled.
“Have you been practicing? I daresay you look just like a soldier of days past.”
“Indeed,” David confirmed. “I have been practicing my shots.”
“I cannot recall the last time I saw you with your archery tools. Are we going to war?”
It was a jest but David shook his head and widened his hazel eyes.
“No, but Father has promised to take me on a hunt.”
“How wonderful,” Elizabeth said sincerely. She was pleased to know the Viscount was making an effort to bond with his only son. Her father often grew too busy to do such things with David and she knew her brother enjoyed the time spent with him.
“When will you leave on this trip?”
“We will all go,” David explained and Elizabeth laughed, believing her brother to be joking.
“I daresay, Franny and I are terrible marksmen. Unless you are considering using us as bait, I think you and Father will have much better luck than we will.”
“You will not hunt, Liza,” David told her with mild exasperation. “But you will travel with us. Has Father not told you?”
Elizabeth realized he was not jesting and her brow crunched in confusion. A pang of uncertainty touched her heart as Frances’ earlier words echoed in her ears.
“Travel where?” Elizabeth asked slowly. Elizabeth was beginning to wonder if she was the one dreaming. The conversations she was having that day appeared to possess a surreal quality and lack sense.
“See?”
Before David could answer her query, Frances reappeared and thrust a fistful of pages into Elizabeth’s arms.
“What is this?” Elizabeth sighed, willing some clarity in all matters surrounding her.
“Mr. Barlough has been writing me, just as I said.”
Slowly, Elizabeth gazed from her sister’s insistent face to the handful of letters in her hands.
“You may read them!” Frances insisted. “Go on.”
“I…” Unable to resist, Elizabeth glanced down and saw to her shock that her sister spoke the truth.
Has she written these to herself?
The penmanship was not Frances’ but what other explanation could there be?
“How in God’s name did you receive so many letters in such a short time?” Elizabeth wished to know. “It had only been a fortnight!”
“Oh,” David chuckled, saving his sister from responding. “Mr. Barlough has been sending them via messenger.”
“You must be joking!” Elizabeth gasped, again looking at the neat, even scrawl on the pages. She did not wish to invade Frances’ privacy but she could not stop herself from reading the sweet words Herbert had written to her sister. Nothing in the pages was improper nor crude. They appeared to be written by a man seeking nothing more than the attention and friendship of a woman whom he called “angel” in every letter.
“You see?” Frances demanded again and Elizabeth could see she awaited an apology for being doubted.
“I do see,” Elizabeth replied. “Forgive me for believing otherwise.”
A smile lit Frances’ face and Elizabeth could see it was already forgotten. She reached back to take the letters from her sister.
“He is smitten with her,” David laughed. “I have never seen a man as endeared.”
“I do hope his intentions are pure,” Elizabeth murmured but it was meant more as a private thought than one her brother needed to address. Frances had already skipped away and out of earshot.
“I do not believe Herbert Barlough has one poppyseed of ill in his blood—even if he is a barrister”
The siblings exchanged a grin but Elizabeth felt a pang of regret in her gut. She was happy her sister had found someone who adored her so well but she could not forget the way she had felt under the steadfast gaze of the Duke of Pembroke. Reasonably, she knew she was nothing more than a passing fancy for the Duke but she could not forget the way he had protected her from Lord Cooke at the wedding. Nor could she forget that he had ended his engagement in the middle of a wedding ceremony. Elizabeth had never been so conflicted over forming an opinion of a person in her life. Frances’ words echoed through her mind.
“The Duke asks of you.”
Elizabeth reasoned if he did, it was of politeness rather than interest.
Although he did end his engagement to Miss Priscilla in the most public and humiliating way. Was that for my benefit or—
“Where have you drifted off to?” David asked and Elizabeth blushed, worried that her younger sibling could read her thoughts.
“I cannot say,” she fibbed and turned her attention back to her brother. “Come along. It is time to eat.”
“You did not ask where we will go on our hunt,” David complained but he did follow his older sister toward the house where Frances had disappeared.
“I imagine you will tell me regardless,” she teased.
“Ah! There you are!” Lord Gordon proclaimed as they entered. “Elizabe
th, you must have the servants pack your trunks. We leave in the morning.”
“Leave for where? This hunt which David is anticipating?” she asked. “Where is it and why should I have to go?”
She also wondered why she had not been told earlier but she saved that query for later. Lord Gordon smiled enigmatically.
“It is a family affair, my dear daughter and I assure you, one which you will enjoy.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows rose dubiously.
“Hunting? Father, I would much rather remain at the house, if you do not mind.”
The sense that she was dreaming was becoming more valid. More inane conversation, discussions which made little sense to her, followed by a series of covert smiles among the rest of her family made Elizabeth feel as if she had been excluded from a secret.
“In fact, I do mind very much,” the Viscount replied. “It will not be a family affair if the entire family is not in attendance, will it, Liza? Come along, daughter. I have already spoken to Isabella who has begun to gather a trunk for you.”
“Father!” Elizabeth groaned in exasperation. “I do not understand what is happening. Why must I come on a hunt?”
“You will not be hunting, Liza. You and Frances may go shopping and explore the virtues of a sprawling estate in our absence.”
She waited, sensing that there was more to come, something that her father was deliberately taking his time announcing.
“Father?” she insisted when he did not add anything else. “You must be clearer. Where are we going and why have I not heard of this previously?”
Father and son shared a sly look and Elizabeth suddenly felt as if she was in the middle of a plot. It was not a feeling she found pleasurable.
“You will know when we arrive,” Lord Gordon offered mysteriously but the secret way he spoke did not alleviate Elizabeth’s concerns.
“Father, I do not wish to be contrary but if you do not tell me, I am afraid I must refuse.”
Elizabeth could think of nothing she wanted less than to embark on a trip to parts unknown, not when David and the Viscount were acting furtive.
“Shall we tell her, David?” Lord Gordon asked and his son shook his head.
“I daresay we insist she wait.”
Elizabeth’s patience wore thin and her head was beginning to ache with the bantering going on about her like a swirl of fairies.
“Father! David! I do not wish to wait! You must tell me what this is about!”
Frances danced through the front foyer and her giggles met Elizabeth’s ears. She continued to clutch the letters from Herbert Barlough to her chest as she moved.
“Father, are we ready to leave yet?” she cried. “I have a trunk packed and I wear my heart on my sleeve!”
Elizabeth looked from sibling to sibling before resting her eyes on her father. Suddenly, she understood where her father aspired to travel and she began to shake her head at the thought.
“No…” she mumbled. “No, Father, I cannot go there.”
“I told you we should have made her wait,” David grumbled. “Now she will not come.”
“She will go. We have been invited,” Lord Gordon insisted firmly. “It would be rude to refuse.”
“You must go without me then, Father as you were the one who was invited,” Elizabeth insisted.
“Out of the question.”
Their gazes met and Elizabeth could see she would not win such an argument but she tried one last time.
“Why, Father? Why must I go?”
A coy smile broke out across the Viscount’s face and he laughed lightly.
“Because, my dear girl, the Duke of Pembroke has specifically requested your presence.”
Chapter 9
It had not been a restful fortnight in Pembroke but Leonard had expected as much upon returning from Fife. There had not been a moment of calm before he had been forced to have an audience with Christian, Baron of Argonshire regarding the disillusion of his engagement with Priscilla.
Leonard had grown dizzy watching the man mutter and sigh, gesticulating wildly and rudely as he tried to make sense of what had happened between the Duke and his daughter.
“I do not understand!” the Baron cried. “What could possibly have changed in a few short months? Plans have been made! Invitations are being drawn!”
Leonard did not know how to explain to the distraught man that he simply could no longer bear the thought of marrying his spoiled daughter. That Priscilla did not hold a candle to Elizabeth Follett in any way. He opted for a graceful out instead, no matter how much the truth burned to escape his mouth.
“You must not take this as a slight to your house, Lord Argonshire. Miss Priscilla and I are not a suitable match, after all. She is a fine article and you will have no trouble finding her a good husband forthwith. There will certainly be no ill spoken of her from Pembroke.”
“I had found her a good husband!” the Baron exploded, unable to keep his temper subdued. “Is there any truth to the rumors of another woman?”
Leonard studied him impassively but he was annoyed by the question.
“And if there were another that interested me more? What then?” he challenged. The Baron’s face turned red with fury, taking the queries as an admission of guilt.
“That would make you most dishonorable, Duke, with all due respect.”
Leonard understood Baron Argonshire’s angst but he could not let the man forget his place.
“I would say that statement lacks respect,” Leonard countered. “And I daresay that it shows a great deal of character to end an engagement rather than commit to a farce when my heart belongs to another.”
The Baron’s eyes widened in shock.
“Then you admit there is another!”
“I admit nothing and you would do well to remember that I said no such thing. It would be in extremely poor taste for a man of your stature to add to the silly rumors already flying about like pollen, gossip I suspect your own daughter has started. I am loathe to believe I nearly wed a woman who is capable of such pettiness.”
Christian’s mouth became a fine line of fury but no protest sprung forth as even the Baron knew his daughter was adept at doing far worse than fuelling the rumor mills. When he was certain he had Christian’s undivided attention, Leonard continued.
“I will ensure that your expenses for the union are recompensed plus additional for your troubles, sir.”
“There is not enough money to recoup the losses on my troubles,” Christian spat with disgust but Leonard was finished with the conversation. If he did not end the talks abruptly, he had no doubt that the Baron would keep him there all night, begging, cajoling, and threatening.
“Good day, Lord Argonshire.”
With that, Leonard gestured for his guards to escort the incensed Baron from Brookside but the Duke had the sense that the matter was far from over. The House of Argonshire was not known for their subtle nature. It was not surprising that Priscilla was the intense shrew that she was.
In that moment, however, Leonard did not know why he was thinking about Baron Argonshire. The last person who should be occupying his thoughts that afternoon, as he stared out the window of his study, anxiously anticipating the arrival of the House of Gordon to the manor. His mind had been on little else but Elizabeth’s impending arrival since he and Lord Gordon had made their arrangements. He idly considered that he worried what would happen if the House of Argonshire learned that Elizabeth and her family stayed at Brookside.
I imagine this will need to be another poorly kept secret, Leonard commented to himself ruefully, his thoughts returning to the family’s arrival. It troubled him little that the House of Argonshire might learn about Elizabeth’s arrival but Leonard suspected that the Viscount’s daughter would feel quite differently, knowing she was the subject of such animus.
“I would prefer to keep this holiday quiet from Elizabeth for the time,” Lord Gordon had explained. “I fear if she learns of our intended trip, she will fi
nd cause to talk her way out of it.”
It had surprised Leonard slightly, possibly stinging him. Had it occurred to him that Elizabeth might be forced to visit Pembroke, he wondered if he would have arranged for it in the first place.
I likely would have, he thought dryly. But I perhaps would have asked for her blessing in the matter.
It was meant to be a hunting excursion but unbeknownst to Lord Gordon, Leonard planned to abruptly become “plagued with a terrible headache” and remain at the manor while the men continued on their trip. Leonard, in turn, would be free to openly visit with Elizabeth and learn more about her.
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