by Emma V Leech
Lottie gaped, wondering how on earth to do that.
“But you can’t just leave!”
“Watch me,” Eliza retorted, such fury glinting in her eyes Lottie was taken aback.
Eliza never lost her temper. Not ever. She did, but not Eliza; she was too sweet-natured, too calm, too—
“Are you just going to watch, or are you going to help me?”
Lottie started, staring at Eliza in alarm. “If… If you really want me to, but Eliza, you must tell me—”
“Cassius doesn’t want to marry me, and it appears everyone knew it but me.”
Lottie swallowed as Eliza’s furious green gaze settled on her, and the bitter laugh that followed made her heart hurt.
“Et tu, Brute?” Eliza said, shaking her head.
The flush that burned Lottie’s cheeks was fuelled by guilt and misery, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up and die of shame. “Oh, Eliza, I—”
“Don’t.” Her sister held up a hand in warning. “Just… not now. We’ll speak later, I promise, but at this moment if I cannot get away and be on my own, I feel I might well do something rash. Please, Lottie. Help me.”
Lottie nodded, for how could she not? She hated herself, hated that Eliza had been hurt, and humiliated—at least in her own eyes—and hated that she might have played a part in Cassius’s change of heart. How could she ever admit her feelings for him now, when Eliza was so obviously in pain?
They manoeuvred Eliza’s horse to stand beside a tree trunk, and Lottie helped her with her heavy skirts as she mounted.
“Shall I come…?” she began, disliking Eliza riding off alone in such an emotional state.
Eliza shot her sister such a look that Lottie swallowed the words.
“You’ll take care, then?” she asked tentatively.
Eliza’s expression softened and she reached down to grasp Lottie’s hand. “Don’t fret, love. I shan’t do anything foolish. I shall go straight home and have a good cry, and by the time you get back I shall be quite myself again.”
Lottie nodded, a lump in her throat, but there was something in her sister’s expression that made Lottie believe she might never be quite the same again.
By the time Lottie got back to the picnic, she found only Cassius and the twins awaiting her. It was clear that Cassius had told them of his conversation with Eliza. He looked up at her, such agony in his expression she could not remonstrate with him for whatever he had said to hurt her so. Sometimes the truth was painful enough, no matter how carefully you were given the words. Lottie knew Cassius would not have hurt Eliza for the world, any more than she would, and she swallowed down a truth of her own. She could not admit her feelings for Cassius all the while Eliza was reeling from the shock of losing him. Perhaps not for some time after that. She met his eyes, silently understanding that he had come to the same conclusion.
“Well, that did not go as expected,” Vivien said, and Lottie found herself relieved at her friend’s often tactless nature.
“No,” she said quietly.
“Is she all right?” Viv asked, concern in her eyes.
“Should I go after her?” Ash asked, moving to get up.
“No!” Lottie said in a rush, shaking her head. “No. She wants to be by herself for a while. I’m afraid she feels she’s been rather made a fool of, because she was the last to know.”
Ash sent Cassius a caustic look of irritation, and Cassius blanched.
“I know, I know,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “If cutting out my bloody heart would help, I’d do it. It was the only reason I delayed but… but you were all right. I should have told the as soon as I could, and now… Oh, God, Lottie, she hates me.”
Lottie shook her head. “Don’t be silly. She could never hate you, and she’ll realise it was for the best once she calms down. You were never suited in that way. That is the only reason everyone guessed so easily, and I know she’ll see that once she can think about it calmly.”
Cassius nodded but looked so utterly wretched, she wished she could comfort him, but that was not possible. Not now. Now she would have to stay well away from him, or risk losing her sister for good.
They all turned as Louis César walked back to them alone with no sign of his brother. He frowned to see that Eliza was not with them.
“Where is Lady Elizabeth?” he asked.
“She’s gone back to the house,” Cassius replied, his tone brittle.
“Ah,” said Louis César with a wry smile. “That is a coincidence.”
Eliza rode hard, urging her horse on. Bitter tears stung her eyes as the wind whipped at her face and she only wanted to ride faster, farther. She was never reckless, never did anything with abandon, and suddenly she was suffocating with the desire to do something wild. Lottie and Cassius had always complained about her lack of imagination, and she knew her forthright mother looked upon her as though she was a strange cuckoo in the nest. Mama was, after all, a novelist with a marvellous imagination, and a forthright nature, but Eliza had always preferred reality and not attracting notice. As the eldest child of a duke and duchess, she was under constant scrutiny from the ton, and she found the idea she might do or say anything to cause her parents embarrassment excruciating. Why, she did not know, for they would never be hard on her and would always take her side. Until recently, the rules had made her feel safe, sheltered from the storm, but now it seemed she was the storm, raging against the bars of a cage she had not realised she resented so bitterly. She would not go home, she decided, not yet. Instead she took a path that would lead her to the ruins of Bayham Abbey. It was a romantic Gothic ruin over an hour’s ride away, but she loved it there and she needed the freedom.
Movement to her right made her turn her head, and her breath caught at the sight of Mr Demarteau. His powerful horse galloped beside her lighter beast with ease, eating up the terrain as though it flew. She met Demarteau’s eyes, for once seeing nothing resembling that aloof, judgemental expression to which she had grown used. Instead, his eyes were full of understanding, full of the same desire to escape. He made a sharp sound of encouragement to his horse, who put on a burst of speed. Her own mount’s ears went back, and her horse sprang forward with the desire to follow its companion. Eliza let out a burst of surprised laughter, her heart lifting, and gave the creature its head.
“Where on earth have you been?” Lottie demanded, running to Eliza as she entered the house.
Their picnic had been short-lived after Eliza and Demarteau had gone, with no one much in the mood to enjoy themselves. Lottie had rushed directly to Eliza’s room only to discover she had not yet returned. She had worried herself sick the past hour and was on the point of setting up a search party to look for her when Eliza strode into the house.
She was flushed and dishevelled, with a strange glitter in her eyes Lottie had never seen before.
“Riding,” Eliza said calmly, handing her hat and gloves to a footman. “I needed to clear my head.”
She moved towards the stairs, certainly looking far more self-possessed than she had when she’d left the picnic.
Lottie hurried after her. “Are you quite well? Did anything happen? Did you see Mr Demarteau?”
“Who?” Eliza cast a careless glance back at her. “Oh, him. Yes, we passed each other. I believe he is still out riding.”
Lottie frowned, disliking Eliza’s calm tone for reasons she could not quite put her finger on.
“He said nothing else to upset you?”
“No. Really, Lottie, do stop fussing about me. I need to wash and change before dinner, and so do you,” she added, giving Lottie the benefit of a critical glance.
Lottie felt her temper prick. “Eliza, you left us in an emotional state and said you were coming home for a good cry. I expected to find you weeping in your room.”
Eliza shrugged. “Well, I changed my mind. After all, there is nothing to weep about, is there? Cassius does not wish to marry me, and I realise now that he is quite correct, we wo
uld not have suited. Papa tried to tell me as much before we came here, but I did not listen. Well, I am listening now, and I realise he was right. He must be, for everyone else could see it too.”
“And that’s it? The man you believed you were in love with has broken things off and you feel nothing?” Lottie did not know why she was so annoyed by her sister’s words, but she was. If Cassius had broken things off with her, she would be wild with anguish, beyond consoling, and this ice-cold demeanour Eliza had adopted was unsettling and out of character.
“Would you prefer to see me prostrate with grief?” Eliza demanded, turning on her.
“No, of course not! Only—”
“Only it is what you expect of me, because that’s how young ladies behave in such circumstances? Or were you expecting me to be kind and pretend my humiliation is of no matter, to make everyone feel better by assuring them Cassius is still my friend and there are no hard feelings?”
Lottie hesitated, realising that was exactly what she had expected. She had assumed Eliza would cry in private and then make everything all right by assuring Cassius they were still friends, and everything could go on as before—even if it wasn’t true. That was what Eliza did: she smoothed wrinkles, she made everyone welcome and at ease, she was patient with insufferable relatives and people who had no manners. Now, Lottie saw that same sister give a snort of amusement.
“Well, perhaps I will, but I warn you, Lottie, I’m tired of doing what everyone expects of me. I’m tired of being the perfect young lady. You were quite right, after all. It was an act, not really who I am. Mr Demarteau saw through it, did he not? It is no wonder he despises me. He must think me a dreadful fraud, and I cannot say I blame him.”
“Eliza!” Lottie exclaimed, truly startled now. “How can you say so? It isn’t the least bit true. You are my sister and I know you better than I know myself. Yes, you hold your tongue when I would say something shocking, but that is because you are kind and patient.”
“Is it?” Eliza demanded. “Or is it because I have not the courage to say what I think? Honestly, Lottie, I do not know myself, but I think perhaps it is time I found out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must change, or I shall be late for dinner.”
Lottie watched as Eliza hurried off to her own room. She dithered in the corridor, uncertain of what to do. Footsteps behind her made her turn and her heart leapt as she saw Cassius. To her chagrin, tears sprang to her eyes and she swallowed hard.
“Lottie,” Cassius said, his expression dull, wretchedness in every line of his posture. “I’ve made such a mess of everything.”
Lottie felt a sob rise in her throat, and more than anything she wanted to run to him, to throw herself into his arms and find comfort there, but she could not. Her sister was hurt, no matter how coolly she might claim otherwise, and Lottie could not deepen her betrayal by running into the embrace of the man who had rejected her. Instead, she shook her head and ran to her own room.
Cassius endured dinner, there was no other word for it. Eliza appeared to be quite recovered and in high spirits, flirting with Louis César and laughing with Ash and Vivien, who seemed happy to encourage her. She wore a white satin robe that sat low on her shoulders and highlighted her dark hair and green eyes. Indeed, she looked exquisite. Neither did she ignore him as he so richly deserved, nor did anything by word or deed to make him feel guilty or ill at ease, and yet he was, desperately so. He wondered if it was his pride that was hurt—if perhaps he had expected, and even hoped, that she would appear sad and listless—but he had to believe he was better than that. As it was, he drank too much and tried not to watch Lottie, who by contrast was every bit as quiet and withdrawn as he might have expected of her sister. His chest ached with the desire to speak to her, to hold her, for tonight all the life and vivacity that usually shone in her eyes was gone. She looked lost and vulnerable, and so lovely that looking upon her hurt his heart.
“But where is your brother?” Eliza asked the comte, her tone nonchalant. “I expected to see him scowling at me over dinner. I am quite disappointed to discover him absent, for I had been determined to fence with him again if he gave me the opportunity.”
Louis César frowned and shook his head. “I am afraid I must apologise for my brother once more, my lady. He has gone.”
Shock flashed in Eliza’s eyes, there and gone before her usual self-possession returned, but Cassius saw and wondered at it.
“Gone?” she said, with the cool lift of one eyebrow. “So suddenly? My, he must find me reprehensible to have allowed me to drive him away.”
“Non!” Louis César replied, shaking his head. “I promise you, nothing could be further from the truth, though I admit Nic has not been himself of late. No, indeed, he had business which needed attending to in London. I still hope he may return, but… we shall see. He sends his sincere apologies to everyone for his abrupt departure.”
“Of course,” Eliza said. “But you must call me Elizabeth, for we are friends now, are we not?”
Louis César smiled at her, the kind of smile that had enticed women into scandal and fighting duels over him, and Cassius could not blame Eliza for the blush that rose to her cheeks as the full force of it was turned upon her. Damn, but the man was a bloody menace.
“Eleezabet,” Louis said, pronouncing it in the French style and making her name sound intimate and seductive. “I would be honoured.”
Chapter 10
Dear Diary,
I think I ought not wish for such amusements as I had hoped to see this summer. Falling in love and finding a husband is far harder than I thought.
Eliza is not herself and poor Lottie is pining for Cassius, who no one has seen at the house for almost a week. He’s hiding down at the summerhouse. I tried to speak to him, but he was in quite a surly mood and, though he was not the least unkind, I was not welcomed in his studio. He has thrown himself into a frenzy of painting and drawing and refuses to return to the party, despite his mother speaking to him quite sternly. I swear I did not eavesdrop only I was passing the summerhouse and the door was open and it was impossible not to hear the tone of her voice, even though I did not stay to hear what was said. I was proud of myself for it was very tempting to listen in, but I carried on walking and did not look back.
I just want everyone to be happy again. Papa says I must not interfere and that everyone will find their own way without my help. I am trying to be good and believe him, but everyone is making such a mess of things.
―Excerpt of an entry to the diary of Lady Catherine ‘Cat’ Barrington, youngest daughter of the Marquess and Marchioness of Montagu.
6th July 1838, Holbrook House, Sussex.
Lottie stared up at the moon and sighed. Everyone had gone to Mitcham Priory to visit with Baron and Lady Rothborn and their son and daughter, Larkin and Grace. They would have dinner together and stay overnight, returning mid-morning the following day. Matilda and Montagu’s sons would be there too and, in usual circumstances, Lottie would have loved to attend, but her heart was not in it. She had pleaded a headache and told her mama and Eliza that she would go to bed early, a lie she was ill at ease with, but what could she do? They kept plaguing her to explain what the matter was, and she could not tell them. Her mama had given her a very direct look and told her that whatever the trouble was, she could be trusted to keep it to herself if Lottie wanted to speak to her about it. Lottie knew that was true, but she felt such shame for the situation that had arisen, she could not bear to. She did not think she was to blame for what had happened, but… but she could not be certain, and that uncertainty made her feel sick and wretched.
She had to go to bed, in truth, for her maid was far too canny not to know she was telling fibs if she did not. Yet, after an hour of tossing and turning, she was so thoroughly tired of her own thoughts she got up, decided on a visit to the library to find a book. It was too early to sleep after all, so she put on her wrap and slippers and went downstairs. Someone had left a copy of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow out
on one of the side tables, and Lottie picked it up. Perhaps if she frightened herself to death she’d stop feeling so sorry for herself. It took her precisely ten minutes to discover she’d read the first page three times and still didn’t know what it said. With a sigh, she set the book down and spied a tantalus on the sideboard with three crystal decanters. Remembering how her mama would often take a glass of brandy to help her sleep the night before the publication of a new book, she got up and went to investigate. Fortune was smiling upon her as she discovered the tantalus was unlocked.
The first measure was barely more than a couple of sips as she accustomed herself to the taste, which was not at all nice. The second went down rather easier and a pleasant glow began low in the pit of her belly. The third was a proper measure, and as she found the library suddenly stuffy and too hot, Lottie drifted out into the garden to enjoy the fresh night air and walked with no direction in mind.
Though it had not been her intention to do so, she found herself in front of the summerhouse before she realised what she had done, and she could not force her unwilling feet to make her turn around again. She was not so foolish as to spy on her beloved, though, nor to go inside as she longed to do. Instead, she sat down on the grass beside the lake and listened to the night creatures chirp and scurry. Lottie stared unseeing across the dark water spread out before her, knowing Cassius was close by… and that was as much as she was to be allowed.
Cassius flung down the charcoal with a curse and walked away from yet another botched attempt. He could settle to nothing, producing in the past week what he considered to be a mediocre still life, and a tolerable painting of the sun rising on the lake outside the summerhouse. He’d spent the day trying to decide upon a new project, but nothing inspired him. Nothing but her, that was. In his heart, all he wanted was to paint Lottie. He yearned to capture the way the sun had caught her hair and lit it like a halo as she stood in the doorway to the studio, or how she had looked at the picnic with her pink skirts arranged in soft swathes around her.
