by Lucy Adams
“Indeed,” Eliza murmured, thinking of each of her sisters and praying that none would say anything out of turn that might embarrass her further. “I do hope it shall go well.”
Lord Montrose laughed heartily, as though she had said something quite ridiculous. “It shall be more than wonderful, Miss Wells. After all, what could go wrong with something as simple as dinner?”
Chapter Six
As it turned out, a very good deal could go wrong.
Eliza, who had taken her leave of Lord Montrose and hurried up to her bedchamber at once to prepare, found herself both agitated and upset. Without truly being aware of what was causing her angst, Eliza found herself wanting to bury her head in her hands and weep, to let the pain and frustration and embarrassment come from her so that she would not have to bear the burden of them any further.
What had occurred on her carriage ride with Lord Montrose had been entirely unpleasant and, even now, as Eliza took her bath in preparation for this evening, she found that her mind was still greatly troubled, still trying to make sense of what had been said and shared.
What was even more difficult to understand now was her lack of response to Lord Montrose’s gentle affections. She had gone from believing herself to have a growing affection for the gentleman to now discovering that she had wanted nothing more than to return home, so that she might be able to remove herself from his presence.
When he had removed his hand from hers, when the gentle touch had come to an end, Eliza had been filled with relief instead of regret. Her breath had come a little easier, her shoulders had eased back down, her mind silently begging the carriage driver to spur the horses on a little more.
When Lord Montrose had taken his leave, with the warm promise that he would see her again in a few hours time, Eliza had found her skin crawling as he had bent over her hand. There had been no joy in her knowledge that she would be in his presence once more very soon, no happiness in the expectation of seeing him dressed in all his finery for such an occasion. Instead, she had found herself desperate to be alone, to be away from him, almost wishing that the time until the dinner party would lengthen itself instead of shortening.
“You are being quite foolish,” Eliza muttered to herself, allowing the rose scented water to wash over her skin as she sank back against the copper tub. Her eyes closed tightly, her mind struggling to find a peace that she had seemed to lose entirely of late.
It was all to do with Lord Avondale’s return, of course. That was the most obvious explanation. His return to London had thrown her into confusion, even though she had been certain of her decision to refrain from his company and instead, pursue a furthering of her acquaintance with Lord Montrose. There was nothing more to concern herself with as regarded Lord Avondale, for she was not about to be in his company particularly often and therefore, all that was required of her was to chase away any thoughts of him that came to her mind.
Closing her eyes, Eliza gritted her teeth and determined that she would not allow thoughts of Lord Avondale to ruin her intimacy with Lord Montrose. Even though her heart had slammed into her chest painfully on seeing him laughing and smiling with Titania last evening, she would not permit such emotions to run wild through her. Lord Avondale could speak to whomever he wished and she ought to do all she could to ensure it did not affect her in any way.
Her heart, however, was quite unwilling to accept such a determination, for it began to quicken at just the memory of seeing Lord Avondale again. At times, Eliza had found herself wondering about what Lord Avondale’s explanation for his sudden and unexpected decision to marry another would have been, her mind trying to untangle her thoughts about what might have occurred, even though she had very little idea.
It was deeply sorrowful, of course, that his wife had died so soon into their marriage, but Eliza did wonder whether Lord Avondale had truly felt a good deal of grief over her loss, given that they had been wed for such a short time. She knew nothing about the lady in question and had very little idea about her family or the like. Eliza certainly had asked herself, over and over again, what this particular lady had offered Lord Avondale to have him marry her instead of remaining with Eliza, but of course had never been able to find the answers.
The answers were waiting for her now, however, if only she could permit Lord Avondale a few minutes to explain himself.
Splashing the water impatiently with her hand, Eliza shook her head and rose from the water, calling the maid to come and help her dry and dress. She could not continue to be so tumultuous in her thoughts, going from a determination to refuse to even speak to Lord Avondale to then deciding that she might wish to know what it was he wanted to say to her. She had to be firm in her decision. Lord Avondale was a part of her past and, since she was determined to set her back to it, that meant that any explanation was not worth even listening to. After what she had said to Lord Montrose and after the embarrassment and shame that had been heaped onto her shoulders thereafter, Eliza knew she could not even permit herself to question his character again. She had to set her heart on one gentleman and be completely decisive in all that she did thereafter.
Lord Avondale would be dismissed from her heart and mind entirely.
* * *
“Good evening, Lord Avondale. I am delighted that you were able to accept at such short notice.”
Eliza closed her eyes tightly, feeling a swirling sense of both fear and shock writhing its way through her. She could not quite believe what she had heard but yet found herself rooted to the spot, unable to even turn her head to confirm what her mother had just said.
“Ah, Eliza.”
Titania hurried to her side, a small smile on her face and a bright look in her eyes that betrayed a certain mischievousness.
“I must apologize to you, Eliza, for I quite forgot to inform you that Lord Avondale would be joining us for dinner this evening,” Titania continued, as Eliza forced herself to draw in air. “Again, my deepest apologies for not doing so beforehand. I have quite failed in my responsibilities, I know.”
Eliza could barely speak, one hand pressed against her stomach in an attempt to calm herself. The dinner party was only to be sixteen and with herself, her mother, her three sisters and Dinah, that only made for ten guests.
Now, it seemed, there was to be eleven.
“I did not….I do not…..” Eliza shook her head, screwing up her face for a moment in an attempt to regain herself. “You invited Lord Avondale to join us?”
Titania nodded blithely, a smile still on her face. “Of course. He is almost like family, is he not?”
“But you know what he did, Titania,” Eliza whispered, hoarsely, angry tears burning in her eyes. “How could you do such a thing?”
Titania studied her sister carefully, her smile fading although her eyes grew serious.
“Eliza,” she said, softly. “Eliza, I have spoken to Lord Avondale at length and I truly believe that he is deeply regretful over what occurred. He has told me that he had no choice but to turn his back on you and I must say that I do believe what he has said.”
Shaking her head, Eliza felt herself tremble. “That is not your choice to make, Titania.”
“But it is my choice as to whom I invite to dinner,” Titania replied, lightly. “I have no particular issue with Lord Avondale, Eliza, and Mama herself feels a deep sympathy for his loss. I spoke with her and she stated that, so long as you were not troubled by his presence, there was no reason he could not join us.”
“And you assured Mama that I would not find his presence difficult in any way,” Eliza spat, bitterly. “Is that what you are trying to tell me?”
Titania shrugged. “I may have said something akin to that, yes,” she replied, without even a hint of shame. “As I have stated, Eliza, he is here as my guest. I must say, however, that I hope there may also be the opportunity for you to speak to him a little more than you have done previously.”
Wishing she could box Titania’s ears, such was her anger an
d deep upset, that Eliza found herself shaking violently. Forced to take a few steps away from her sister to a small alcove, Eliza remained there for some minutes, taking in long breaths in an attempt to steady herself. She could not believe that Titania had done such a thing, for to see Lord Avondale here, present, when she had not been expecting him, had come as a great shock.
“I can see that Miss Wells did not inform you of my company this evening, as she promised.”
Eliza’s eyes flew open to see none other than Lord Avondale standing in front of her, his gaze fixed on hers.
“No,” she stated, softly, not quite sure where to look or what to say. “No, she did not.”
“Then I shall depart,” Lord Avondale replied, inclining his head. “I can come up with a decent excuse, but I should not have you uncomfortable for any reason, Miss Wells. Do forgive me.”
He made to step away but before she could stop herself from doing so, Eliza reached out and grasped his arm.
Heat rippled up her arm and she let go of him at once, her face flaming.
“You need not do that, Lord Avondale,” she replied, throatily. “Please, there is no need. I am in control of myself, truly.”
Lord Avondale considered this for a few moments, before taking a few steps back to where he had first been standing.
“I am sorry,” he said, honestly. “I should have refused Miss Wells’ invitation but I confess that my heart has been burning with longing.”
Eliza closed her eyes and dropped her head. She could not hear this from him, not when her heart began to quicken with both delight and astonishment.
“I have longed to see you again, Eliza,” Lord Avondale continued, her name on his lips sending waves of delight running through her despite her determination to ignore him. “I should not have allowed my own desires to overtake what I know would have been best for you, but I could not help myself.”
Eliza held up one hand. “Please, Lord Avondale,” she whispered, unable to hear any more. “That is quite enough. As I have said, I am already being courted by another.” Her eyes finally lifted to his and, much to her surprise, she saw a faint smile playing about his lips.
“A courtship is not an engagement,” he stated, spreading his hands. “The more I have thought of you, Eliza, the more I have allowed myself to hope. It is foolishness in itself, of course, but it lingers there nonetheless.”
Her breathing was ragged now, waves of heat tumbling over her until Eliza felt she could take no more. “Hope?” she repeated, pressing one hand against the wall so that she might support herself and praying that the dinner bell would soon sound so that she might free herself from this conversation. “What hope is it that you speak of, Lord Avondale?”
Lord Avondale’s smile was soft, his eyes lingering on her gently. “Hope that you might permit me to speak to you about what occurred two years ago,” he said, softly. “Hope that you might, through all the pain and the sadness, find a way to understand. Hope that forgiveness will flood your heart, that you can discover a new sense of peace about the dreadful way I treated you.” He took a step closer and Eliza’s breath caught. “Hope, as foolish as it is, that there might be something between us once more. I swear to you, Eliza, that if I were granted such an opportunity, it would not be squandered. I would not wait a moment to make you mine for the rest of our days.”
Eliza could not lift her eyes from Lord Avondale, aware of what he was offering her and finding that she could not quite take it in. He wanted her to listen to his explanation so that the chance for their joint happiness might once again be a possibility.
“I know you have not forgotten me, as you stated,” Lord Avondale murmured, his breath brushing her cheek and sending her heart into a tormented flurry. “I know that you are not immune to my presence. Oh, Eliza, I have thought of you every day. I have been wed to another and yet my heart and mind have constantly been settled on you. If only you would allow me to explain, then you might be able to see the torment that I have been in. The choice was not mine, Eliza. The choice was not mine. I had to do what was asked of me, no matter the consequences. No matter the cost.”
Eliza shook her head and took a small step out of the alcove, knowing that she could be discovered at any moment and not wanting to have anyone question her for having such an intimate conversation with a gentleman that was not Lord Montrose.
“I – I must greet some of the other guests,” she stammered, not able to look up into Lord Avondale’s eyes any longer. “Do excuse me.”
His hand caught her elbow and she gasped in surprise, turning her head to look at him.
“Will you, at the very least, consider what I have said, Eliza?” Lord Avondale asked, his voice low enough for only her to hear. “Will you let yourself become open to the possibility that you might be able to hear my explanation one day soon?”
Eliza tugged her arm away from him, her heart thundering so furiously that she was certain he could hear it. “I will think on it, Lord Avondale,” she said, before her mind could form any other response. “That is all I can offer you.”
He smiled, a look of utter relief etching itself into his features. Eliza could not help but allow her gaze to rest on him for a moment or two longer, finding in his expression a hint of the Lord Avondale she had once known. He was just as handsome, of course, just as genteel and, of course, quite amiable – but there were lines of grief in his face that she was certain would never dissipate completely. What was it that had torn him apart so terribly? Why had his departure from her not been his own decision? What was it that had forced his hand?
“Your consideration is more than I have ever hoped for, Eliza,” Lord Avondale murmured, as she began to step away. “Thank you.”
* * *
Dinner was a loud and hearty affair, although Eliza found herself growing rather tired of hearing Lord Montrose’s voice. Whether that was because she was aware of Lord Avondale’s gaze settling upon her more often than not, she could not say, but something about the entire evening unsettled her greatly. Lord Montrose had appeared at her side only a few minutes after she had left Lord Avondale and had taken possession of her since then. He was, of course, seated beside her and had seemed to dominate the conversation from almost the moment they had sat down. The other guests appeared quite enamored with him and Eliza had not missed the way that a few of the other ladies looked at him. There were a mixture of guests at the table, although three were unwed and one was a rich but young widow. Lord Montrose seemed to revel in the attentions they gave him and continued to delight them with stories, jokes and other such things that had them all laughing and smiling at him. Eliza, however, felt entirely out of place, barely able to raise a smile at anything Lord Montrose said.
What was worse, as the meal progressed and the wine refreshed, Lord Montrose appeared to become more and more at ease, eventually making one or two ribald comments that brought a flush to her cheeks, although Eliza noticed that the young widow, Lady Barclay, blushed furiously but did not remove her gaze from Lord Montrose. Her eyes seemed to glow as she continued to regard Lord Montrose, a small smile lifting one corner of her mouth.
Eliza felt nauseous, hating that Lord Montrose was behaving so and that so many of the guests seemed to find his company so desirous when she herself found it both embarrassing and unwelcome.
And all the while, Lord Avondale had watched her steadily, barely lifting his eyes from her face. She could feel his attentions, wondering what he thought of Lord Montrose and praying that her embarrassment was not too apparent. It was almost impossible not to compare the two gentlemen, for Eliza knew that Lord Avondale would never have behaved as Lord Montrose did, for he had always been polite and charming, never allowing any bawdiness into either his words or his speech. When they had been courting, he had always treated her with a great deal of respect and consideration, and even more so when they had been in company. The difference between the two gentlemen was almost breath-taking, forcing Eliza to drag in air as she settled her h
ands in her lap, her desire to eat gone completely.
This state of unsettledness continued for the remainder of the dinner, until, finally, the gentlemen were left to their port and the ladies were allowed to rise.
“There shall be tea set out for us in the drawing room,” Lady Whitehaven said, a smile on her face as she spoke to the guests. “Gentlemen, I leave you in the safe hands of Lord Montrose, who shall bring you through to us all again very soon, I am quite certain.”
Eliza blushed furiously at this obvious gesture of intimacy, seeing the knowing glances that flickered from one face to the next. She stepped away from the table, finding it hard to get her breath, the air feeling thick and her skin clammy.
“Are you quite all right, Eliza?”
Her mother’s gentle hand rested on hers for a moment, forcing her to come to a stop.
Eliza buried her wry laugh and shook her head. “I think I shall take some air, Mama,” she murmured, honestly. “I find the room a little stuffy. You will not mind if I delay coming for tea for a few minutes?”
Lady Whitehaven nodded understandingly. “Of course, my dear. You know where we shall be and the guests will not miss you so long as you are not too long.” She pressed Eliza’s hand for a moment before letting her go. “And take a shawl with you, for the gardens will be cool this evening.”
Eliza promised she would and made to make for the door, only for a slight prickling sensation to catch her. Turning her head, she saw Lord Avondale watching her, a look in his eyes that stole her breath.
He had heard every word she had said to her mother. He knew that she would be going out to the gardens and that she would be there alone. What an opportunity that would be for them to speak in private, for her to finally understand the reasons for his rejection of her.
Her throat worked for a moment, sparks seeming to brush against her skin as she held his gaze. And then, without a single word to him, Eliza turned on her heel and made for the door, as though she were being chased away by his very presence.
