by Jen Turano
Gloria muttered something undetectable under her breath before she smiled. “Don’t you look pretty as a picture in lavender? Hamilton will be completely delighted.”
Obviously that had been a glint in Gloria’s eyes, and apparently the woman was already scheming. Eliza took a deep breath, but before she could get a single statement out of her mouth, such as the fact that she was not in the market for a man, Gloria turned on her heel and strode out of the room.
Now, that was odd and more than a little abrupt.
“Aren’t you coming?” Gloria asked, poking her head back through the door. “The morning is almost gone, and I, for one, am famished. We’ll join Piper and Ben in the dining room.”
She’d forgotten all about Piper and Ben. “Surely they won’t still be there, will they?” she asked as she moved across the room and walked with Gloria down a long hallway.
Gloria smiled. “I have not heard any sounds of disaster, so I’m hopeful they are indeed still in the dining room.”
“What if they’re not?”
“It might be best not to even consider that idea,” Gloria muttered.
They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Eliza took a moment to glance around, appreciating the tasteful, yet luxurious décor surrounding her.
“It is quite lovely here,” she finally said.
“Could do with a woman’s touch,” Gloria said with a wide smile and a knowing wink.
“Then I suppose it is fortunate your son has you around,” Eliza said with a wink of her own.
“I would not dream of offering Hamilton suggestions on décor,” Gloria said. “That decision really should be left to a wife.”
The conversation was becoming downright disturbing. Eliza opened her mouth even as her mind struggled to find a suitable reply, but her response was cut off when Piper took that moment to stomp into view.
“I thought everyone was going to join me and Ben for breakfast,” Piper grouched as she came to a stop right in front of Eliza and sent Gloria an injured look. “We waited and waited, and then, well, we finally had to eat, but what if Ben or I’d choked? Who’d have been there to save us?”
“Do you and Ben make a habit of choking on your food?” Eliza asked.
“They’ve never once choked,” Gloria said with a roll of her eyes.
“You always say it’s better to be safe than sorry,” Piper returned. “Food can be dangerous.”
Eliza grinned. “I’m sorry we didn’t join you, Piper, but your grandmother thought it best for me to freshen up before we left the room. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t have felt comfortable sitting down to dine dressed in trousers.”
Piper eyed her for a moment. “Do you only wear trousers when you’re up to something shifty? Miss Brighton read me a book about ladies who were criminals, and it said they were shifty. I don’t know what ‘shifty’ means, but I think it has something to do with women wearing trousers.”
“Once again I find myself questioning the employment of Miss Brighton,” Gloria mumbled before she took Piper by the arm and began tugging her down another hallway, Eliza following a few steps behind. “Piper, Miss Sumner isn’t a criminal, but a member of British high society. Her proper form of address is Lady Eliza Sumner, but she prefers, for the moment, to be called Miss Sumner.” She stopped walking and frowned. “Speaking of criminals, I still don’t understand why the London authorities didn’t take any action against Mr. Hayes or help you find him, especially as you are indeed an aristocrat.”
“Mr. Hayes was so convincing with his lies that even Scotland Yard dismissed my accusations.” She heaved a sigh. “I was actually told they found me to be a touch delusional.”
“What’s ‘delusional’?” Piper asked.
“Crazy,” Gloria said.
“Miss Sumner doesn’t seem crazy.”
“Thank you, Piper. It’s very reassuring to know someone finds me sane,” Eliza said with a grin.
“I hope you won’t think me too forward, Miss Sumner,” Gloria began, “but I’m acquainted with quite a few people over in England, some of them involved in the highest levels of government. Would you mind if I wrote them regarding your situation? They might be able to lend some assistance in restoring your father’s good name.”
“I wouldn’t want to put you through the bother, Mrs. Beckett.”
“It wouldn’t be a bother, my dear, and please, call me Gloria.”
Eliza felt her eyes well with tears as she realized there were still people left in the world who were possessed of compassion, people who wished to help her for no other reason than wanting to extend her a kindness. Her world tilted on the spot.
“Thank you,” she finally managed to say. “You must call me Eliza.”
“Why is your voice all shaky?” Piper asked.
Eliza was spared having to respond when Gloria began walking again, pulling Piper beside her. They entered the dining room and her gaze settled on Ben, who was slouching in a chair. His head shot up and a smile that reminded Eliza exactly of Hamilton’s smile spread over his face. She moved to the chair right next to him, waited until a servant pulled it out for her, and then sat down, completely charmed when Ben pushed a muffin in front of her, a muffin sporting what appeared to be tiny teeth marks on one side.
“I saved this for you,” he said before he plopped his thumb into his mouth.
“Thank you, Ben,” Eliza said before she picked up the muffin and took a bite. She swallowed and smiled. “It’s delicious, the best muffin I’ve ever eaten.”
Ben grinned around his thumb and edged a little closer to her, his plump arm brushing against her sleeve.
“Ah, finally I’ve discovered everyone’s whereabouts,” Hamilton said as he strode into the room. He bent over when Piper let out a squeal and rushed to his side, and Eliza’s heart melted when he scooped his daughter into his arms and placed a loud kiss on her cheek. “Are you enjoying your morning, darling?” he asked.
Piper shook her head. “We were abandoned until just now and . . . Ben gave Miss Sumner a muffin. He never gives me muffins.”
“’Cause you’re my sister,” Ben stated as if that explained everything.
Eliza shifted her attention back to Hamilton and discovered him giving her a somewhat lingering perusal. She felt her pulse gallop through her veins under his intense regard and wondered what he was thinking.
“Doesn’t Eliza look enchanting?” Gloria asked.
“She looks . . . lovely.”
Although “lovely” could certainly be considered a compliment, there was a distinct note of what sounded almost like disgruntlement in his voice.
Did he find something lacking in her intricately styled hair, or could he not appreciate the way the lavender color of his sister’s gown brought out the blue of her eyes?
Could he be comparing her with his beautiful, yet apparently troubled, deceased wife?
That was not something Eliza wanted to consider. To hide her discomfort, because his gaze was becoming more disconcerting by the second, she stuffed a piece of muffin into her mouth and promptly choked.
Hamilton set Piper down, strode to her side, and pounded her soundly on the back.
“I’m fine,” she managed to gasp as he continued to pound.
“See?” Piper said. “I told you food was dangerous.”
Eliza choked again when a laugh took her by surprise, accepted the glass of water a servant pressed into her hands, and took a sip, willing her pulse to settle. For some unknown reason, it was racing as if she’d just performed an exacting task.
If only Hamilton would move away from her, maybe she’d be able to collect her scattered wits.
It was beyond disturbing, this reaction she kept having whenever he was near.
She chanced a glance at Gloria and found her watching Hamilton with what could only be described as delight.
This was bad; Gloria seemed to have found something encouraging in her son’s behavior, although what could be encouraging about a gentleman who w
as now glowering in Eliza’s direction was beyond her. If she didn’t regain control of the situation, Gloria would soon start planning a wedding, with or without her consent.
“Has there been any word from Mr. Watson?” Eliza asked when she finally recovered her voice, hoping that would put an end to all the pesky plots that were apparently swirling around her.
“We do not need to talk about him at the moment,” Gloria said with a pointed look to Piper and Ben. “Besides, we have more important matters to discuss.”
It was truly remarkable how innocent Gloria could appear, especially when she was clearly pursuing some ulterior motive.
“What important matters?” Eliza found herself asking.
“We need to take you shopping. Arabella’s gowns will do well in a pinch, but you really deserve garments tailored to your own personal style.”
That certainly wasn’t what she’d expected to come out of Gloria’s mouth. “I have no desire to go shopping,” Eliza said slowly.
“Nonsense, Eliza, every woman adores shopping. I simply must take you to the Ladies Mile or Fashion Row, and we can take the El to get there,” Gloria said with an innocent smile.
“I love the El,” Piper said.
That explained the innocent smile.
Feeling decidedly outnumbered, Eliza released a huff. “What, pray tell, is the El?”
“It’s a raised train,” Hamilton explained. “It’s one of the easiest ways to get around the city, and Piper enjoys traveling on it.”
“Of course we would take Piper with us,” Gloria said.
The woman apparently had no qualms about using her granddaughter as a pawn in whatever diabolical plot she was currently conceiving. “I don’t want to disappoint Piper, but if you’ve forgotten, I’m trying to remain unnoticed at the moment.”
“I highly doubt you’ll be recognized on the crowded streets of New York,” Gloria replied.
Eliza crossed her arms over her chest. “You may very well have a point, but I just remembered the small fact I have no funds available to me at the moment, seeing as how all of my belongings and wages are still back at the Watson residence. Besides,” she continued when Gloria opened her mouth, “even if I did have my funds with me, they are relatively limited, and I do not have the luxury of wasting them on trivial purchases.”
“Proper clothing is hardly trivial,” Gloria muttered.
“I would be more than happy to provide you with funds,” Hamilton said, speaking up as he smiled one of his devastating smiles in Eliza’s direction.
It took her a few seconds to gather her thoughts, and when she finally collected them, she felt more confused than ever. Why was he being so pleasant when, mere moments before, he’d seemed rather distant and almost surly?
The only explanation that came to her was that gentlemen were obviously odd beings, and she should not even attempt to understand them.
“I do appreciate the offer, Mr. Beckett, but it would not be proper to accept money from you, considering I’m already accepting your hospitality,” she finally said. “I’m not comfortable, as I’ve stated numerous times, accepting charity.”
“It would have been fun,” Piper said softly, drawing Eliza’s attention. She couldn’t help but notice the way Piper was standing a little away from the table, scuffing the toe of her shoe against the floor. As she continued to watch the child, a memory of her mother flashed to mind, a memory of shopping and the delight Eliza had felt as she’d accompanied her mother down Bond Street. Piper would never have such memories, as her mother was long dead.
Admitting defeat, she rolled her eyes. “Very well, I’ll go shopping, but I’m not purchasing anything.”
“Fair enough,” Gloria said. “At least it will allow us an opportunity to become better acquainted. Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”
“As long as we return by nightfall, I’m more than happy to go today,” Eliza said.
Eliza blinked when Hamilton let out a grunt.
“What are you planning on doing after nightfall?” he demanded.
“I have to continue with what I was doing last night,” Eliza said.
“That is out of the question.”
“Oh dear,” Gloria muttered as she jumped out of her chair, plucked Ben up in her arms, and took Piper by the hand, not speaking another word as she quickly ushered the children out of the dining room, leaving only a charged silence in her wake.
10
Hamilton watched as Eliza pushed back her chair, got to her feet, squared her shoulders, opened her mouth, and then, to his surprise, snapped it shut. She leveled a chilling look filled with disdain in his direction, tilted her chin, which he absently noted was rather endearing, and then turned on her heel and stalked from the room without speaking a single word.
For a moment, he simply stood there, pondering what had just happened.
He knew perfectly well he was right regarding the fact that Eliza could not be let loose on the streets of New York. There was no telling what mischief the lady would find, and if she was even thinking about returning to Lord Southmoor’s home, well, it didn’t bear contemplating what disaster waited for her there.
Still, his reaction to her declaration might have come off a touch pompous, but surely she understood he only wanted to keep her safe?
He released a breath and made for the door, pausing in the hallway when he couldn’t find a trace of her.
“She went that way,” Piper said from the stairwell, pointing down the hall.
“Thank you, Piper, but I must remind you that you’re not allowed to eavesdrop on people.”
“What does ‘eavesdrop’ mean?”
“Listening in on conversations you’re not meant to hear,” he said before setting his sights on the corridor.
“But you didn’t say anything,” Piper called after him.
Hamilton swallowed a laugh and continued forward, sticking his head in every room without finding Eliza until he found himself in the kitchen. His cook and two maids were pressed up against the window, whispering something he couldn’t hear. Their whispering came to an abrupt end when he cleared his throat.
“Mr. Beckett,” Mrs. Whitehouse, his cook, exclaimed. “What are you doing in the kitchen?”
“I’m looking for Miss Sumner.”
Mrs. Whitehouse gestured to the back door. “She went that way.”
Hamilton nodded and strode across the room, stopping when Mrs. Whitehouse stepped into his path.
“You might take the poor dear a coat,” she said. “Although, by the expression on her face, the lady is furious at the moment and might not even feel the cold.”
Hamilton plucked a coat off the rack by the door, sent Mrs. Whitehouse a smile, and made his exit before his cook gave any other suggestions. He’d been surrounded by women all his life, and he was more than familiar with their ability to stick together. He reached the dirt path leading into the garden and made his way through the hedges, stopping when he spotted Eliza standing by the garden wall.
“I brought you a coat,” he said.
“I’m not cold,” she said even as she shivered.
“If it makes you feel any better, Mrs. Whitehouse is the one who suggested I bring this to you.”
“Well, if Mrs. Whitehouse was so kind as to worry over my welfare, it would be churlish of me to refuse.”
Hamilton refused to grin as he took a step forward, intent on placing the coat around Eliza’s slim shoulders. He stopped when she made a sound like an angry cat, and he settled for holding it out to her. She snatched the coat from his hand and slipped it on.
“I would prefer to be alone,” she said with a sniff.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to suffer my company for a few more minutes, Miss Sumner. I owe you an apology.”
“Too right you do,” Eliza said. “You have no authority over me, Mr. Beckett, and it was not well done. . . .”
Hamilton found it difficult to concentrate on what Eliza was saying. Her lips were movi
ng rapidly, but he couldn’t actually decipher what the words coming out of her mouth were. It was such a lovely mouth, and he found it quite quirky, given the fact that it could assume different positions with alarming frequency. Like now, it was pursed in a most attractive manner, and now . . . it was moving again as if the lady could not get the words out fast enough. His gaze traveled upward, past eyes that were flashing, and settled on her hair. He couldn’t help but appreciate the efforts of Mabel. The curls she’d been able to produce on Eliza’s head, well, they were tantalizing. He had the strangest urge to reach out and touch them, to feel with his own hand if they were as soft as they appeared, something he’d been contemplating ever since he got a good look at her in the dining room. He pulled abruptly back to reality when Eliza poked him in the chest.
“Stop smiling.”
“I’m not.”
“Why are your lips curled up, then?”
Hamilton forced his lips into a straight line. “Better?”
Eliza let out a snort before she turned on her heel and strode to a stone bench. He wondered if she expected him to follow. He took one step, but paused when she sent him another glare. He watched as she plopped down and turned her head in the opposite direction.
She was adorable when she sulked.
“May I join you?” he asked a minute later, swallowing a laugh when she swiveled her head, sent him a sniff, and then returned to staring at something apparently riveting over her shoulder.
Deciding he might as well take his chances, he moved to the bench and sat down, his amusement increasing by the second when she inched away from him. “It was not well done of me to make that statement,” he began.
“On that we can agree,” Eliza said.
“I just want to keep you safe.”
“That’s not your problem.”
“You’re a guest in my home, and I feel responsible for you.”
“I can leave.”
Hamilton waited to continue until she finally turned her head. He released a sigh. “Have you ever felt you were in danger of repeating mistakes you made in the past?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
