by Anne Herries
How could she leave without telling her mother that she loved her?
If Lady Sarah knew the truth she would not allow her to go—and then she would lose everything.
What was she to do for the best?
‘I have heard from Lord Manners,’ Lady Sarah told her that evening. ‘He has come down with some friends and is to give a large dinner for our neighbours. He requests that we attend, Eliza—and he has sent me the rubies that belonged to his grandmother to wear tomorrow evening.’
‘Oh…’ Eliza was surprised. ‘Are you sure I was invited?’
‘Yes, of course. Howard knows that I should not go without you. He may not have liked the gossip in Bath, but we are home now and, as I told him, it will soon be forgotten.’
‘Yes, I suppose,’ Eliza said and smiled. Perhaps Lord Manners had thought better of his threat. ‘I shall be happy to accompany you. It must be an important dinner or he would not have sent you the rubies.’
‘I wish he had not bothered. I much prefer my pearls, but I suppose I must wear them as he has requested it.’
‘Which gown will you wear, ma’am?’
‘I think the grey silk. That is trimmed with dark crimson knots and will set the rubies off well, though they do not become me. I would rather have worn the diamonds or the emeralds.’
‘I dare say they are very valuable,’ Eliza said. ‘You must not leave your jewel case unlocked, ma’am. I know your servants would not touch anything, but it would not do to lose them.’
‘You are very right to remind me,’ Lady Sarah said. ‘It is one of the reasons I seldom ask for anything from my son’s strongroom. My pearls are my own; though I should hate to lose them, it would make no difference to anyone.’
‘What should I wear?’ Eliza asked. ‘Would the yellow or the lilac be more suitable for a dinner at Mannington Park?’
‘I think perhaps the lilac,’ Lady Sarah replied. ‘I shall not sit up late this evening since we are to dine out tomorrow. If you wish to stay up please do, but I shall retire with a book.’
‘I shall do the same, ma’am,’ Eliza said and kissed her.
She went to bed feeling happier. Perhaps she would not have to leave after all.
Daniel saw her walking through the trees towards him the following morning. He had been to the Dower House, spoken to various people, and stabled his horse, walking back towards the village in the hope of meeting her. Eliza had, he knew, been to the village to see if there were any letters waiting at the receiving office. It was something she did every morning. His heart to heart with Lady Sarah had cleared up many things and left that lady glowing with happiness.
‘Miss Bancroft,’ he said and saw her startled look turn swiftly to pleasure. ‘I hope I did not frighten you?’ He smiled, feeling pleasure in the sight of her.
‘No, indeed, sir. Have you been to the house? Lady Sarah was, I know, hoping for a letter from you.’
‘I came personally to give her some good news,’ he said. ‘I am sorry not to have come before, but there was a great deal needing my attention.’
‘I am sure she was glad to see you, as I am.’
‘I have been making arrangements to sell my estate. I have released a small amount of capital from a venture that has nothing to do with the estate and I shall purchase a commission in the Hussars. I believe the army life may suit me, though the pay will not be what I have been used to in the way of income. However, I must cut my coat according to my cloth.’
‘I am sorry you are to lose your estate.’
‘My father’s debts were impossible to meet,’ Daniel said. He moved nearer, gazing down at her. ‘I have been thinking of the life I might have, Eliza. It will not be one of plenty, but I believe I should have enough to purchase a small cottage when I leave the army—or before if my wife should need a settled home.’
‘Your wife?’ Eliza swallowed hard. ‘Am I to wish you happy, sir?’
‘You will make me very happy if you will accept me as your husband, Eliza. I am sorry I can offer you so little, but I find that nothing else will content me but to make you my wife.’
‘You…wish to marry me?’ Eliza stared at him, her heart racing. ‘I…are you perfectly certain, sir? Do you know what you are saying? I may have things in my past, things that would shame you—and your family.’
‘I care for no one’s opinion but my own,’ Daniel said. ‘Besides, I know exactly who you are, Eliza. I suspected something when I saw you with Marianne Cheadle in Bath, but I could not be sure. However, I heard from my agent two days ago and I think it is certain. I have spoken to Lady Sarah and told her the good news. You are her daughter—which I am sure you must have suspected after Cheadle’s behaviour.’
‘You have told my mother?’ Eliza stared at him in horror. ‘Oh, I wish you had not. You have no idea of what you have done. Why did you not speak to me before telling her?’
Daniel was puzzled. ‘I do not understand you, Eliza. Lady Sarah particularly asked me to find her daughter. She told me that she had a feeling you might be her lost child, but she had no way of proving it. Her reaction to the news was very different. She was delighted with the report that proves your connection.’
‘I have known it for a while,’ Eliza told him and sighed. ‘The Marquis of Cheadle was furious, because he thought I might be an adventuress and he believed my mother vulnerable. He threatened me, but then withdrew his threats when he learned that I had tried to help Marianne. He had also discovered the truth and in the end merely asked if I would keep his secret.’
‘Then why have you not told her?’
‘Lord Manners is not so forbearing. He has threatened my mother if she acknowledges me, which she will do now that she knows the truth.’
‘How can Manners threaten Lady Sarah?’ Daniel was puzzled. ‘He is her son…’
‘He will follow the terms of her husband’s will and turn her out of the Dower House. She will also lose her jointure.’ Eliza threw a despairing look at him. ‘We must hurry back, because the news may have overset her.’
‘Forgive me. I had no idea about the terms of her husband’s will. Surely her son will not carry it out? It would be unnecessarily cruel.’
‘You did not hear what he said to me.’ Eliza looked at him, tears in her eyes. ‘Please, I cannot answer your very obliging offer now. I must return to my mother.’
‘I shall come with you.’
‘No, I would rather you did not,’ Eliza said. ‘Would you meet me here tomorrow morning please? I shall have my answer for you then—but I would rather see my mother alone.’
Daniel caught her wrist. He looked at her for a moment, then brought her into his arms. He bent his head to kiss her, his mouth soft and yet hungry on hers. For a moment she allowed him to hold her, swept away by the heady feeling that his kiss inspired.
When he let her go, she gazed up at him in wonder.
‘I wanted you to know that I love you,’ he murmured huskily. ‘Whatever happens, I will look after you—and your mother, if she is in trouble. I am not sure how, but if necessary I shall ask my uncle for assistance. He might make one of his country houses available to her.’
‘How good you are to say it,’ Eliza said and smiled. ‘But she would not hear of it. She has the house in Bath—though I know she loves her home. Forgive me, I must go to her.’
He held her fingers to the last as she trailed them through his hands. He stood, watching her as she ran in the direction of the Dower House, until he could no longer see her. His horse was stabled at the Dower House, but he would not follow her just yet. Instead, he would walk down to the village and take a room for the night at the inn.
As he walked away, Daniel’s mind was concentrated on Eliza. He had no idea that they had been watched and their conversation overheard.
Lady Sarah stood up as Eliza rushed into the parlour. Her face was glowing and she was a picture of happiness as she opened her arms wide.
‘Eliza, my love. I have wonderful news for you…
’
‘Lord Seaton should not have told you just like that,’ Eliza said and caught a sob. ‘I was afraid it might have been too much of a shock…that you might be ill.’
‘Come here to me, my love.’ Lady Sarah received her with a gentle hug and a kiss. ‘How long have you known that you were my lost daughter?’
‘I had a ring… I was told it was similar to one the marquis owned and when you told me your story I suspected it. Then I saw the marquis’s ring on his finger and showed him my ring, but he thought I was lying. He accused me of trying to take advantage of your good nature.’
‘How could he say such a thing to his own daughter? I shall have something to say to him when we next meet. He knew how much I longed for you, my dearest child.’ Lady Sarah’s eyes were moist as she drew her daughter to the sofa and they both sat down. ‘I felt a bond between us almost from the first, Eliza, but some weeks passed before I began to suspect that by answering an advert, quite by chance I had done something wonderful and discovered the child I had lost.’
‘The marquis has realised his mistake. He gave me permission to speak to you…’
‘Then why have you said nothing? Foolish girl, were you afraid it might be too much for me? If only you knew how happy this makes me, Eliza. I have never felt better. I want to tell all our friends.’
‘I think we must still take care. Everyone must continue to be told that I am merely your companion.’
‘Why? I do not mind my friends knowing the truth, my love. I am proud of my beautiful daughter.’
‘Have you not thought what could happen?’ Eliza hesitated as her mother frowned. ‘The terms of your husband’s will are so harsh.’
‘Oh…’ Some of the brightness faded from Lady Sarah’s face. ‘Yes, I suppose the lawyers could make things awkward if they chose, but perhaps they need not know.’
‘Someone may tell them…that person may insist on the terms of the will being observed.’
‘You mean my son, of course.’ She reached for Eliza’s hand. ‘I shall say nothing tonight. We must get through this dinner as best we can. However, tomorrow I shall return the rubies in person. If Howard insists, we shall go back to Bath and make our home there. The house there belongs to me. I have sufficient money of my own without the jointure to live comfortably on for the rest of my life. Perhaps when you marry I may stay with you sometimes—in the country if you have the good fortune to marry someone with a house in a pleasant area. I have thought Lord Seaton might make you an offer?’
‘I like him very much—but I am not sure…’ Eliza felt unable to explain the circumstances in which she would be living if she married Daniel. Besides, how could she leave her mother? Had Lady Sarah been comfortably settled in her home she would have been happy to become his wife and follow the drum, but she could not desert her mother—especially if she had been forced to live in Bath. ‘I would not wish to desert you.’
‘Foolish child. I will not have you give up your life for mine. If you receive an offer of marriage from the man I think you love, you must take it. I shall be happy for you and we shall spend as much time together as we can.’
‘I am so lucky to have found you,’ Eliza said, throat tight. ‘I do not know quite how it happened, but it is more than I could ever have hoped.’
‘We shall spend the rest of the day quietly. I do not look forward to this wretched dinner, Eliza, but we must bear it. In the meantime, we shall sit together and talk. I want to know all about what your life was like as a child—and I shall tell you how and why I fell in love with Cheadle…’
It was an emotional afternoon, nostalgic and coloured by memories. At the end of it, when they went up to dress for the evening, Eliza was filled with a new-found happiness. She had discovered so much about her mother that she could never have suspected. Eliza felt so close to her. She had begun to understand her father a little, realising what he had gone through as a young man and how he had become the harsh man that was the Marquis of Cheadle. Except that a part of the man Lady Sarah had loved was still there—and it showed itself in his love for Marianne.
He had done all he could to protect her. Yes, he was angry, but he had put his anger to one side in his determination to find Marianne and save her from ruin.
Eliza knew that she could not expect him to care for her in the same way. He had never known her, because she had been taken away when she was but a few hours old. Lady Sarah had never given up hope that she would one day find her child again, but the marquis had married and found solace in other ways.
At least he had believed her innocent of malice in the end and that was something.
As she was dressing for the evening, Eliza’s thoughts turned to Daniel. If she accepted his offer of marriage, perhaps Lady Sarah could be persuaded to keep their relationship secret. She must see that it would be so much better if Eliza went away and they met as often as possible out of the public eye.
Eliza knew that she loved Daniel. She wanted very much to be his wife. She also wanted to care for her mother. Why could she not have both? In other circumstances they might have taken Lady Sarah to live with them.
Eliza sighed. It was all so very difficult and the choice was too hard to make lightly.
She had just finished dressing her hair when the door opened and her mother walked in.
‘I wanted to give you this to wear this evening.’ Lady Sarah handed her the diamond-and-aquamarine pendant that Eliza had once admired. ‘I think it will look well on you. I always thought that I would give it to my daughter one day. Please wear it and enjoy it, my dearest. If I had them, I would give you more precious jewels.’
‘I should not want them,’ Eliza assured her. ‘This is perfect for me. I shall treasure it always. Are you sure I ought to wear it this evening?’
‘I am at liberty to give what I please to my daughter,’ Lady Sarah said and kissed her. ‘Do not worry, Eliza. My son is not his father. I do not believe he would turn me out.’
Eliza felt doubtful. Lord Manners had seemed quite determined to her, but perhaps he was less harsh with his mother. Of course, it must be so. His threats were against Eliza and meant to scare her away.
Eliza removed the string of seed pearls and replaced it with the necklace. It looked well with her gown. ‘This is beautiful, ma’am. Thank you so much.’
‘I shall not ask you to call me Mama this evening, but in future you must do so, Eliza. You are my daughter and I am proud of you.’
‘We must talk about it again tomorrow,’ Eliza said. ‘I think we ought to go or we shall be late…’
The carriage was waiting to convey them the short distance to the main house. Every window of the large, magnificent building was ablaze with light, spilling out on to the gracious forecourt and across the lawns into the shadows at the far end. The wind was a little chilly that evening for the autumn was now truly upon them and the nights had shortened.
Eliza followed Lady Sarah as she led the way. She was greeted with warmth and respect by the servants, which told her daughter a great deal. Her husband might have treated her cruelly, but his servants liked their old mistress very well.
They passed through an echoing hall with an imposing staircase into a grand drawing room. The colours of crimson, dark blue and gold were rich, but a little too formal for Eliza’s taste. She much preferred the softer colours at the Dower House, which she imagined her mother had chosen.
Several people were in the room and they turned to look as they entered. One or two came forwards to greet Lady Sarah, the ladies kissing her cheek and the gentlemen taking her hand. They seemed genuinely glad to see her, but not one of them so much as glanced at Eliza. Even at the start in Bath, before the rumours, Eliza had at least been treated politely. Here she might have been invisible, receiving no more than a frosty nod when Lady Sarah introduced her as her companion.
Eliza held her head high, choosing to ignore the incivility of Lord Manners and his guests. She had no doubt that he had warned his friends to cut t
he upstart who had dared to prey on his mother.
Since no one spoke to her directly, Eliza did not join in the general conversation at dinner, which was all about people in London society, none of whom she had ever met. Whenever she chanced to look at her mother, she smiled at her, but it was not until the ladies followed Lady Manners into the drawing room at the end of the meal that anyone spoke to her.
‘You may help me with the tea, Miss Bancroft,’ Lady Manners spoke coldly, her pale blue eyes like chips of ice. She was a pretty woman, no more than three and twenty at the most, but her expression was sour, her dress severe. ‘That is, after all, what you are, a paid servant—are you not?’
‘Serena, please, my dear,’ Lady Sarah protested. ‘Eliza is a friend to me. I rely on her completely, as I told my son when he visited in Bath.’
Eliza shook her head and smiled at her mother, making her own reply.
‘I am Lady Sarah’s companion, and, yes, she does pay me.’
Eliza went forwards to take the cups where she was directed. She did her duty with grace and calm civility, and one of the younger ladies gave her a sympathetic smile.
Eliza made no response to anyone. After receiving her own dish of tea, she took it to the far side of the room and looked out of the window, trying to ignore the conversation.
‘Eliza my dear, are you ready? I am tired and I think we should leave.’
Hearing her mother’s gentle tones, Eliza nodded and stood up. A servant was dispatched to fetch their cloaks and then they were outside, climbing into the waiting carriage despite their hostess’s appeal to wait for the gentlemen to join them.
‘I have never been so angry in my life,’ Lady Sarah said as she reached for her hand. ‘Forgive me, Eliza. Had I guessed what Howard meant to do, I would never have attended his wretched dinner. It was a deliberate insult to you. He knows you are my daughter and is determined to make things awkward for you. Promise me that you will not allow him to distress you.’