by Anne Herries
It was about halfway through the evening when Daniel appeared in the ballroom. Eliza saw him dance with Marianne Cheadle and Susanne Roberts, and then, at last, when she had almost given up hope of his approaching her, he wandered over just before the dance before supper.
‘Miss Bancroft,’ he said. ‘May I dare to hope that you have a free dance this evening?’
Eliza’s heart jerked, as she was obliged to shake her head. ‘I am sorry, my lord, my card is full. I did not know if you were attending this evening.’
‘I was not sure myself,’ he told her with an odd smile. ‘If you have no free dances, perhaps I may take you into supper?’
‘If you could secure a table by the window for Lady Sarah and myself, we should be grateful. It is warm in here and a little fresh air would be welcome.’
‘It shall be as you ask. I regret that I shall not have the privilege of dancing with you this evening. Perhaps another time?’
She nodded her head to him as a young man presented himself for the next dance. Smiling, she gave him her hand, feeling a pang of regret as they walked away. When she looked back there was no sign of Daniel. However, when she accompanied Lady Sarah into the supper room, a waiter came to direct them to a pleasant table by the window.
‘What can I fetch for you, Lady Sarah?’ Eliza asked. ‘Would you care for some chicken?’
‘Something small,’ Lady Sarah replied, but even as Eliza prepared to fetch something from the tasty nibbles on display, a waiter appeared with a selection of dishes. He was followed to the table by Daniel, who was carrying a silver wine bucket filled with ice and a bottle of champagne.
He nodded to the waiter, who set the dishes down, then deposited his wine bucket. ‘May I tempt you to some champagne, ladies?’
‘Thank you, Lord Seaton,’ Lady Sarah said and gave him a chiding look. ‘I have been expecting you for some days. I think you have forgotten me.’
‘No, I assure you, ma’am,’ Daniel said and smiled. ‘I have been delayed by business, but I shall visit without fail tomorrow—at what hour would you wish me to call?’
‘Would two in the afternoon be convenient? I do not rise before noon these days.’
‘It will be quite convenient,’ Daniel replied and glanced at Eliza. ‘Perhaps you might care to ride one morning, Miss Bancroft?’
‘Thank you, sir. Perhaps the day after tomorrow,’ Eliza said.
‘I shall arrange for the horses.’
She sipped her drink and then ate one of the delicious morsels the waiter had brought for them. Lady Sarah toyed with a tiny salmon parcel and drank some water. She glanced up as the marquis came to their table.
‘Lady Sarah, Seaton…Miss Bancroft,’ the marquis said and glared at Eliza. ‘I trust you are enjoying your evening?’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Lady Sarah murmured. ‘We have been royally entertained, have we not, Eliza my dear?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Eliza answered, but without looking at the marquis. She dipped her gaze, but when she glanced up the marquis had moved on. Daniel looked at her curiously, bringing warmth to her cheeks. She turned to Lady Sarah. ‘Would you excuse me for a moment, Lady Sarah? I think I must go to the rest room.’
‘Of course, please do,’ Lady Sarah said. ‘I may follow in a moment, but I wish for a few words with Lord Seaton.’
Eliza left the table and made her way through the room. She went up the stairs to the room set aside for ladies. There she tidied her hair, glanced in the mirror, availed herself of various facilities and left, intending to go back to Lady Sarah.
As she walked along the hall, she saw the marquis approaching. Since there was no way she could avoid him, she lifted her head, telling herself to be calm and answer politely whatever was said to her. However, before she realised what he was about, he seized her wrist and dragged her into one of the other bedrooms, shutting the door and standing in front of it to prevent her leaving.
‘Why have you brought me here?’
‘Why did you ignore my advice to leave Bath?’ he countered, glaring at her. ‘What can you hope to gain by staying here now? I have the ring and shall not return it to you—though I have no idea how you obtained it. Tell me, did you steal it from someone?’
‘I was only made aware of its existence just before my mama’s death. She told me that she had discovered the ring tucked into my baby clothes. I know nothing more—and I should be glad if you would return the ring to me, sir. It is precious to me.’
‘I have not yet managed to verify your story, but be certain I shall find you out if you are lying.’
‘I had no reason to lie to you. I have stayed for Lady Sarah’s sake, because she needs me.’ Eliza lifted her head, challenging him. ‘If you truly believed I was lying, I think you would have spoken to Lady Sarah before this, sir. Why are you so afraid of the truth? Believe me, I have no desire to claim kinship with you, sir.’
‘Indeed?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Surely you wish for something from me—should I acknowledge that your story is true?’
‘No, sir. I wish for nothing from you,’ Eliza replied coldly. ‘If you please, I should like to leave. Lady Sarah will be looking for me.’
‘Go, then,’ he muttered. ‘Be warned that if any of this comes out it will be the worse for you.’
Eliza inclined her head. He stood aside and she opened the door and went out. She almost bumped into Daniel, who put out a hand to steady her.
‘Oh, forgive me. I did not see you.’ She blinked because her eyes stung with tears.
‘Are you all right, Eliza? You look upset…’ He took hold of her wrist, delaying her, and was about to say more when the bedroom door opened again and the marquis came out. He looked shocked to see that Eliza was still standing there with Daniel. ‘What is going on?’ Daniel’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘Why were you in that room with Cheadle? Eliza—has he harmed you?’
‘No, please. He has not harmed me…I must go.’ She pulled free of him and fled down the hall, leaving the marquis and Daniel facing each other.
‘Damn you, Cheadle,’ Daniel said furiously. ‘If you have done anything to harm Miss Bancroft, you will meet me…’
‘Do not be a damned idiot,’ the marquis said. ‘You are far out in your thinking if you imagine that I have seduced her. It is a very different matter.’
‘If I thought that, you would be lying on the floor at this moment,’ Daniel replied through gritted teeth. ‘Do not fool yourself into thinking I have not noticed a likeness between Miss Marianne and Miss Bancroft, Cheadle. You may think it slight, but I saw it and, believe me, it is only a matter of time before others see it too.’
‘It is as I imagined. That masquerade with the hold-up was a part of your feud with me,’ Cheadle growled. ‘You saw the inscription in my ring and she showed you hers—and the two of you planned this together in the hope of blackmailing me, though how you knew that Sarah…’ He broke off as he realised that he had betrayed himself. ‘You are a rogue and she is your accomplice.’
‘Whatever I may be, Miss Bancroft is innocent,’ Daniel replied angrily. He reached out and slapped the marquis across the face with a white glove used for dancing. ‘You may name your seconds, sir.’
The marquis glared at him. ‘Do you deny that you were the rogue that held my coach up recently? Revenge for your father or cousin, I suppose?’
‘Whatever I may have done, you are wrong to suspect Miss Bancroft of duplicity,’ Daniel said stiffly. ‘Do you accept my challenge?’
‘If you wish to make a fool of yourself,’ Cheadle said. ‘I choose pistols and I warn you that I have a deadly aim.’ He inclined his head. ‘My seconds will call on you in the morning.’
‘I name Jack Hastings and Robert Milton as my seconds. I am certain they will oblige me. Good evening, sir.’
Daniel turned on his heel and walked past the marquis. He went down the stairs and out of the house. He had come only for the purpose of dancing with Eliza and had no wish to stay a moment longer. He ha
d not been wrong in his suspicions. Eliza and Marianne Cheadle were half-sisters. The marquis was Eliza’s father—but who was her mother?
The gossipmongers had it that Eliza was Lady Sarah’s lovechild and from Cheadle’s careless slip it would appear that the rumour was true.
Did Eliza suspect the truth? Did Lady Sarah know her companion was her daughter?
She had asked him to call the next day. He was not sure why, but would discover the reason soon enough.
Unaware that a challenge to a duel had been issued, Eliza made her way back to Lady Sarah. They had decided that they would stay for half an hour after supper, and after making sure that Lady Sarah was comfortable, Eliza danced twice more.
She had asked one of the maids to fetch both her and Lady Sarah’s cloak when Marianne Cheadle came up to her.
‘Are you leaving already, Eliza? I hope I may call you by your name? I have felt that we could be friends…’ Marianne blushed. ‘Would you meet me tomorrow afternoon please? I need to talk to someone in confidence—and you are the only person I feel I can confide in.’
‘Yes, of course, if you wish,’ Eliza replied. She remembered that Daniel was calling on Lady Sarah at two and nodded. ‘Shall we meet at two—near the lending library? There is a little shop across the road where we could have tea and cakes.’
‘Oh, yes, I know it well,’ Marianne said and looked relieved. ‘Thank you so much. I do not wish to impose—but I do need to talk to someone urgently.’
‘I shall be there at two tomorrow,’ Eliza promised and on impulse leaned forwards to kiss her cheek. ‘Do not look so anxious. If I can help you at all, I shall.’
‘Thank you, Eliza.’ Marianne pressed her hand. ‘I must go, for my partner will be looking for me. I shall see you tomorrow.’
‘Yes…’ Eliza parted from her as the cloaks were brought, then helped Lady Sarah to put hers on before they left the house together.
‘I saw you with Marianne,’ Lady Sarah said, looking at her a little oddly. ‘She is a pretty girl, is she not? Do you get on well together?’
‘Yes, I think so,’ Eliza replied. ‘I am to meet her tomorrow afternoon at the same time as Lord Seaton is calling on you, ma’am. I hope that will not inconvenience you?’
‘No, of course not.’ Lady Sarah looked thoughtful. ‘You told me your mama died a few months before you placed that advertisement, Eliza. I did not ask you many questions—were you an only child?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Eliza dug her nails into her hands. ‘As far as I know…’
Lady Sarah turned her head to stare at her. ‘What can you mean by that, Eliza?’
‘I was adopted, ma’am. I do not know who my real parents were. The Reverend Bancroft found me in the church one Sunday morning.’
‘Indeed?’ Lady Sarah gave a little gasp in the darkness. ‘Why did you not tell me this before?’
‘It did not seem important, ma’am.’
‘No, perhaps not…’ Lady Sarah murmured. ‘Then again, it might be very important indeed.’
Eliza said nothing. She had been forbidden to speak of her quarrel with the marquis and would do nothing that might endanger the woman she had come to love. Lady Sarah would not replace her mama in her heart, but she had become very fond of her. She saw no point in mentioning the ring, because without it she had no proof of anything.
Lady Sarah seemed sunk in thought. When they reached the house in the Crescent she gave her hand to Eliza and it seemed to tremble a little, but not one word more was said on the subject.
‘Goodnight, dearest,’ Lady Sarah said and kissed her cheek.
‘Goodnight. Sleep well, and do not worry about anything.’
‘I think I shall sleep soundly.’ Lady Sarah smiled at her. ‘Indeed, I feel quite remarkably well this evening. Goodnight, my love.’
Eliza saw her to her room, leaving her to the attentive care of her maid, and then went to her own room. She sighed as she undressed—her life seemed so complicated. By agreeing to meet Marianne Cheadle, she would once again antagonise the marquis, for he would imagine that she was trying to ingratiate herself with his family in order to blackmail him. However, Marianne seemed in actual distress and in need of a friend—and if Eliza’s suspicions were correct, the girl was her half-sister.
She would meet her and if the marquis did not like it he could take her to task once more, but she doubted there was much he could do. He was clearly afraid that she would ruin his daughter’s prospects and his own reputation. The last thing Eliza wanted was to make trouble for anyone.
Eliza’s thoughts turned in another direction. What on earth must Daniel have thought when he saw the marquis follow her from that bedroom? He had suspected her of being Cheadle’s mistress at the start. He would probably imagine his suspicions were now confirmed.
Getting into bed, Eliza blew out the candle and closed her eyes. Everything was in such a muddle, but there was little she could do to make things right.
The next afternoon Eliza walked briskly through the town and arrived at the lending library at five minutes to two. Marianne was already waiting. Her face lit up with relief when she saw Eliza and she crossed the road to meet her.
‘I was afraid you might not come.’
‘I should not have agreed had I not wished to oblige you,’ Eliza said. ‘I think you are very worried. Shall we sit on that bench before we have our tea?’
‘Yes, please. I should not wish anyone to overhear what I have to say…’ Marianne looked nervous. ‘I think you will be very shocked, Eliza.’
‘Shall I?’ Eliza smiled. ‘It would have to be very bad to shock me, Marianne.’
They sat down together. Marianne played with her white gloves for a moment, then took a deep breath.
‘I lied to my mother,’ she confided. ‘Mama is waiting for the Duke of Accrington to come to Bath and make me an offer, but I know that he won’t come. You see, he very obligingly proposed in London and I refused him. She would be so angry if she knew, for she particularly told me to make a push to secure him if I could.’
‘I do not know the gentleman. Do you not like him, Marianne?’
‘He is too old, though not repulsive or unkind,’ Marianne replied and bit her lip. ‘I thought if I said nothing of this to Mama she would forget in time, but now…there is someone I wish to marry…’
‘Ah, I see.’ Eliza nodded her understanding. ‘You wish to marry another gentleman, but you do not dare to confess the truth to your parents.’
‘Mama will be furious with me. She had her heart set on Accrington—and Mr Hastings will never be more than a baronet. He has a fortune and is eligible, but he does not compare with a duke in Mama’s eyes.’
‘Yes, I see.’ Eliza saw how troubled she was. ‘You have a problem, Marianne. I think you will have to confess, ask your parents to forgive you and hope they will allow you to marry the man you love. Has he proposed?’
‘Yes…’ Marianne blushed and her eyes lit up, revealing her happiness. ‘I liked him in London, but he never gave any sign of liking me enough…and Mama encouraged the duke. Jack asked me to let him address my father immediately, but I begged him to wait for a little while.’ She pleated the fine linen of her green walking gown. ‘Do you think I should ruin myself if I ran away to Gretna with Mr Hastings? I think it is the only way, but I am frightened…’
‘You must not do anything so rash,’ Eliza told her and reached for her hand. ‘It would certainly cause a terrible scandal. Your mother might refuse to speak to you again—and your father might come after you and prevent the marriage.’
‘Do you think so?’ Marianne dabbed a lace kerchief at her eyes, but a tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. ‘I love Jack and shall marry no one else, whatever Mama or Papa say.’
‘Yet I think you would not wish to be estranged from them both?’
‘No, I suppose not…’ Marianne gave a little wail. ‘What am I to do? I am sure Mama will say I must wait for a better offer—and she will be furious whe
n she discovers I turned the duke down.’
‘Yes, I dare say she may,’ Eliza said and squeezed her hand gently. ‘I think if you talk to your father first—perhaps he might listen, do you not think so? I imagine he is fond of you, is he not?’
‘Yes, he is,’ Marianne agreed. She was silent for a moment, then inclined her head. ‘I shall speak to him this afternoon.’ Her head came up defiantly. ‘If he refuses permission for Jack to speak to him, I shall elope whether he disowns me or not.’
‘I cannot deny you, but I would advise you to think carefully before doing anything rash. Your parents may be a little annoyed for a while, but I am sure they will come round in the end.’
‘Do you truly think so?’
‘Yes, if they love you. They will not wish to see you unhappy, Marianne. Just be polite and calm and beg your mother’s pardon for not telling her before—but if you speak to your father first, he may support you.’
‘Thank you so much for advising me,’ Marianne said. ‘I was sure you would know what I should do. You do not censure me?’
‘Not in the least. I would never marry anyone I did not care for and why should you?’
‘I shall not,’ Marianne said and her face took on an expression of determination. ‘Shall we go and have our tea? They make a wonderful truffle cake here…’
Glancing to her right, Eliza saw a man loitering. She frowned—she thought she had seen him hanging around once or twice before. He looked to be the same man she’d seen outside Lady Sarah’s house. Could he possibly be following her? She wondered if the marquis had employed an agent to watch her. It was just the sort of thing he might do—which meant that he would soon learn she had met with his daughter.
Well, let him do his worst. She had no intention of leaving Lady Sarah unless she was dismissed.