Secret Heiress

by Anne Herries

  As Jack came out on to the balcony, Eliza gave him a speaking look and went into the reception room. She was joined by Kate, who asked if something was wrong and why she was frowning.

  ‘Oh, nothing very much,’ Eliza said and smiled at her. ‘Tell me how long you have known Mr Thatcher and what made you fall in love with him?’

  The subject was turned instantly. Kate began to sing the praises of her fiancé and Eliza did her best to say the right things at the right moment. She was terrified that something bad had happened to Daniel Seaton, but could not mention the duel or say anything that would taint her friend’s happiness.

  Was Daniel alone and in pain? Surely he was not dead? They would have heard by now.

  Her heart thumped painfully as she feared the worst and then dismissed it. She would find out in the morning, but for now she must behave as if nothing were wrong for Kate’s sake.

  Eliza did not notice either Jack or Marianne return to the room as the evening wore on and wondered where they had gone. Surely Jack had not been reckless enough to give into the pleading of the girl he loved?

  When Lady Cheadle came up to her later and asked if she had seen Marianne, she denied it.

  ‘I have searched everywhere. No one has seen her for hours.’

  ‘I was speaking to her earlier. I believe she had a headache. Perhaps she went home?’ Eliza crossed her fingers, feeling uncomfortable.

  ‘Without consulting me?’ Lady Cheadle looked angry. ‘My daughter has better manners than you seem to imagine, Miss Bancroft.’ The lady frowned at her. ‘Unless you have been putting ideas into her head?’

  ‘No, not at all,’ Eliza denied. ‘I am sorry, but it might be better not to make a fuss. You may find her at home.’

  ‘Indeed? It seems to me that you know more of this than you will say, miss. The marquis will have something to say on the matter. You have not heard the last of this, believe me.’

  ‘Forgive me, but whatever Marianne may have done, she did not do it on my advice.’

  ‘You have not heard the last of this, Miss Bancroft. If Marianne is not at home with a headache, you may expect a visit from my husband.’

  ‘As you wish, ma’am,’ Eliza said. ‘I truly hope you will find her in bed at home.’

  Eliza sighed as the woman left. She had enough problems without being accused of something she had not done.

  Lady Sarah came up to her a moment later. She looked puzzled.

  ‘Lady Cheadle seemed angry, Eliza. Is something wrong?’

  ‘She could not find her daughter and thought I might know where she was.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘I am not sure,’ Eliza replied. ‘I may not tell you, Lady Sarah. Marianne spoke to me in confidence yesterday and this evening. I advised patience, but I fear she may have been reckless.’

  ‘I do hope she has not done anything foolish, my dear. Say goodnight to Kate, Eliza. You may not see her again for a while. I dare say she will be busy before they leave.’

  Eliza obeyed. Kate hugged her and said she would keep in touch, and then they were out in the carriage and driving home.

  Eliza saw Lady Sarah comfortably settled and then went to her own room. She found a note lying on her dressing table and tore it open. It had come from the footman she had asked to deliver her note earlier that day. He had returned from a visit to his family and informed her in a note that the gentleman in question was injured, The doctor told me the wound was not fatal, but there might be a fever. I thought you would wish to know, he had written.

  Eliza scanned the rest of the note. It told her very little, except that Daniel was hurt. She glanced at the clock beside her bed. The hour was late, past eleven, but she knew she could not rest without finding out more.

  Slipping out of her evening gown, Eliza dressed in a plain grey gown and a dark pelisse. She could easily walk to the hotel where Daniel was staying and it would take but a moment to enquire about his condition.

  She did not wait to leave a note for Lady Sarah, because she would be home again before anyone knew she was gone. Leaving by a side door, she pocketed the key so that she could return without disturbing anyone.

  Her heart was racing as she walked swiftly through dark streets. The hotel was partially in darkness, but inside the porter was dozing in his chair. He woke with a start as she approached him and sprang to his feet.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you all day, miss,’ he said accusingly. ‘The physician said he would send a nurse for the gentleman, but you’re late.’

  Eliza’s heart thudded. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him of his error but if Daniel needed a nurse she could not simply walk away.

  ‘I had another patient,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Please take me to him.’

  ‘You’ll need this, then.’ He thrust a chamberstick with a lighted candle at her.

  Following the porter, who continued to mutter and grumble all the way, Eliza was feeling so nervous that her nails dug into the palms of her hands. At last he stopped outside a door, unlocked it and gestured for her to go in. Eliza did so. The room was almost in darkness, though some light entered through the open curtains. She went to the dressing chest and lit the candle from the one she was carrying. With two candles there was sufficient light to see the man lying in the bed. She approached with some trepidation, looking down at Daniel in concern. At once she saw that he was sweating, his face flushed. It was obvious that he had a fever.

  ‘Oh, my poor love,’ Eliza said as she saw that he was heavily bandaged over his shoulder. ‘What did that wicked devil do to you?’

  Eliza felt the sting of tears. She glanced about her and saw a jug and bowl on the washstand. She went across to it and poured some water into the bowl, carrying it back to the bed. Setting it down on the table by the bed, she saw a neckcloth lying near by. She dipped it in the cool water and began to bathe Daniel’s head. She soothed the cloth down over his arms and hands, hesitating before turning the covers back to his waist. Wringing the cloth out once more, she began to wipe the sweat from Daniel’s body.

  When she had finished drying his body, Daniel seemed a little easier. Eliza began to take more notice of her surroundings. She discovered a small dark bottle on the dressing chest and a note giving instructions as to its use. Clearly the doctor had left instructions for the nurse who had not arrived.

  Eliza measured the medicine into a small cup. She returned to the bed and pondered how best to give him the mixture. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she slipped an arm beneath his head and lifted it.

  ‘Swallow this for me, my love,’ Eliza said. ‘It will do you good.’

  Amazingly, his lips parted and she held the cup to his mouth, tipping it so that the mixture trickled on to his tongue drop by drop and watched him swallow. He sighed as she eased him back against the pillows.

  ‘Forgive me, Mama…’ Daniel murmured. ‘Didn’t mean to bring shame on the family.’

  ‘You have not,’ Eliza soothed and stroked his hair. ‘It was not your fault, dearest.’

  Daniel’s eyes closed. She laid her hand on his brow. Was he a little easier?

  She bent over him, pressing her lips to his. ‘Please get better, Daniel. I could not bear it if you died…’ She stroked his forehead, tears trickling down her cheeks. ‘I love you so very much.’

  Daniel did not answer. He was sleeping, she thought, peacefully. Eliza glanced at his pocket watch, which lay on the table by the bed. It was almost midnight. She could not leave him yet. She must at least stay until she was certain the fever was waning. He seemed cooler now, but it could return and then he might die.

  Eliza knew that she must go before it was morning. If anyone saw her leaving the hotel, her reputation would be finished.

  She brought a chair that stood by the writing desk in the window and sat down, feeling sleepy. She would just watch over him for a while.

  Daniel cried out in his sleep. ‘Do not leave me…please…’

  ‘I am with you,’ Eliza said
and took his hand. ‘I love you, my dearest one. I have loved you almost from the moment we met.’

  It was such a foolish confession and one she could never have made had he not been in a fever and unable to understand what she was saying. She sat on the edge of the bed as his fingers curled round hers, holding her firm. Smiling, she shifted a little and found a space to lie beside him, still letting him hold her hand. She smiled as she felt his warmth and snuggled nearer, her love surrounding him, willing him to recover and be well again. It felt so right to be here with him, even though she was aware that if the slightest hint of her reckless behaviour were to be known, she would be ruined. It did not matter. All that mattered at this moment was that Daniel should be well again.

  She would rest for a little and then she would leave before anyone was about.

  ‘You should have watched over your daughter, madam.’ Cheadle glared at his wife. ‘You were her chaperon. How could you have allowed her to go missing for hours without wondering what had happened?’

  ‘Do not blame me, sir. You have spoiled the gel,’ Lady Cheadle said. ‘From this note I infer that you knew she had turned down Accrington and wished to marry the rogue who has run off with her?’

  ‘She spoke to me yesterday. I had intended to speak to Hastings, but…something happened. I was angry and may have given her to understand that I would not now speak to him.’

  ‘And what does that mean?’ his wife demanded. ‘You blame me, but it may be your fault she has run away with this man?’

  ‘If she has…’ Cheadle frowned. ‘What makes you think that Miss Bancroft knows something of this?’

  ‘She and Marianne have been as thick as thieves,’ Lady Cheadle said with a scowl of dislike. ‘I suppose you know what some of the gossips are saying about her?’

  He frowned. ‘I heard that she was a secret heiress and might be related to Lady Sarah Manners.’

  ‘And who might be the bastard’s father?’ Lady Cheadle accused. ‘I am not a fool, sir. I have seen the likeness when she and Marianne stand together. I knew soon after we married that there was someone else, but I did not guess until recently who she was—the woman you could never forget.’

  ‘You would be unwise to voice your suspicions outside this room for your daughter’s sake.’

  ‘Marianne has ruined herself.’ She shook the note that had been delivered to the house minutes earlier that morning in his face. ‘She has gone with her lover. No one of any consequences will marry her now.’

  ‘I shall fetch them back if they have gone to Gretna.’

  ‘Of what use will that be once this is known?’

  ‘No one needs to know,’ Cheadle said. ‘Show some sense for once, madam, and we may yet come out of this with some credit. If Marianne has been dishonoured, the rogue will marry her—but we shall keep this to ourselves. A wedding will be announced and we shall brush through as best we can. Whatever my daughter has done, I do not wish to see her ruined.’

  ‘This is all your fault,’ Lady Cheadle said. ‘If you had not spoiled her—been a better example to your daughter—she would not have disgraced us.’

  ‘Watch your tongue, madam. I have put up with your sourness for Marianne’s sake, but no more. We shall come to some arrangement as soon as I have settled this matter.’

  ‘Where are you going?’ she demanded as he walked to the door.

  ‘To ask Miss Bancroft if she knows anything of Marianne’s plans,’ he said. ‘For your own sake, madam, keep this to yourself until we know the truth.’

  He gave her a last look of disgust and went out, the door slamming behind him.

  Daniel woke to a feeling of soreness in his shoulder, then became aware that he was not alone. Turning his head, he saw the woman lying beside him, her hair rumpled and her face flushed in sleep. He felt a rush of desire, experiencing an overwhelming need to take her into his arms and make love to her. How beautiful Eliza was as she slept, but what was she doing here? He frowned as he wondered how it happened, trying to remember, but recalling nothing after he was shot. He considered waking her, then she stirred, gave a little moan and woke up. For a moment her eyes were wide and startled, and then she smiled. She did not immediately pull away, but lay looking at him, her eyes still hazy with sleep, so delicious that he could barely refrain from making love to her. Her smile wrenched at his insides, making him aware of many things. Not least of how very special she was.

  ‘You are awake. I thought the fever might come back. How are you? Does your shoulder hurt very much?’

  Daniel controlled the hunger within. ‘No, not too much. What are you doing here?’

  ‘I heard about the duel. I came to the hotel late last night and the porter thought I was the nurse. I gave you some medicine and sat with you, but you would not let go of my hand so I lay down beside you. I must have fallen asleep. I fear I am not a very good nurse.’

  ‘Forgive me. Had I known you were here, I should have sent you home hours ago.’

  ‘The time…’ Eliza rolled over and looked at his pocket watch. She gave a little cry and scrambled off the bed, suddenly aware that she had slept for hours. ‘It is past nine. I must get back. Lady Sarah might ask for me. If it is discovered that I am missing, she will be worried.’

  ‘Yes, you must go immediately.’ He frowned as she hesitated, clearly worried for him. ‘It was but a scratch, Eliza. I can manage, believe me. I have suffered worse.’

  ‘Why did you fight Cheadle? Was he wounded, too?’

  ‘I fired in the air and so did he,’ Daniel said. ‘I have no idea where the shot came from. Jack said he thought he caught sight of a figure in the trees. I do not know why someone would try to kill me, but no doubt I have acquired an enemy.’

  ‘Then it was not the marquis who shot you?’

  ‘No. I remember that he apologised before I passed out. Jack must have settled things afterwards and brought me here. I have no memory of anything…except that I thought of my mother…’ His eyes narrowed, as he remembered something from his fever. ‘You soothed me, didn’t you? Thank you, Eliza. I wish you could stay to continue to nurse me, but you must leave at once. I promise I will call when I am recovered.’

  ‘Yes, I must go.’ Eliza smiled. ‘Please take care—especially if you have an enemy.’

  She resisted the temptation to touch him or kiss him. If she did not hurry, the maids would know she had not slept in her bed all night.

  Eliza ran all the way home. She let herself in with her key and hurried upstairs. She changed into a fresh gown and had just finished tidying her hair when someone knocked at her door.

  ‘Yes, what is it?’ she asked, pulses racing.

  The door opened and one of the maids looked in. ‘I am sorry to disturb you this early, Miss Bancroft, but the Marquis of Cheadle is downstairs in the parlour. He is insisting on speaking to you.’

  Eliza glanced in the mirror, her heart beat slowing to a normal pace. It seemed that she had managed to escape detection. ‘Thank you, Mary. I shall come at once.’

  Eliza was thoughtful as she went down to the parlour. She was certain that the marquis had come to blame her for encouraging his daughter to elope. Facing his anger was a daunting prospect, but she had weathered previous bitter encounters with him and was determined to stay strong.

  She paused outside the parlour door for one moment, then lifted her head and went in. The marquis was standing at the far side of the large room, staring out into the gardens, his back towards her. He did not seem aware of her until she spoke.

  ‘You wished to see me, sir?’

  ‘Yes…’ He walked towards her and she saw the uncertainty and doubt in his expression. ‘I tell you this in confidence, Miss Bancroft. Marianne has gone off with Mr Hastings. She sent a note in which she blamed me for making her life impossible. She said that I was not to look for her, because she would not be where I would expect to find her.’

  A little gasp escaped Eliza. She had feared as much and wished that she had been more persu
asive the previous evening for Marianne’s sake.

  ‘I am sorry that your daughter has run away, but I believe she will be quite safe with Mr Hastings. I know that he did not wish to elope, but she must have found a way to persuade him. I feel sure that he truly loves her.’

  ‘A man in love will do foolish things to please the woman he cares for above his life.’ The marquis looked oddly humble. ‘I fear that it is my own behaviour that pushed my daughter to the edge.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps.’ Eliza was surprised. She had expected him to rage at her. ‘I have not often met Mr Hastings, sir—but I do not think he would harm Marianne.’

  ‘You have no idea where they went?’

  ‘Marianne talked of going to Gretna Green, but I told her it was unwise…’ Eliza was thoughtful. ‘Her note seems to dispute that, does it not?’ She hesitated, then, ‘There is one person who might know where Mr Hastings would take her…’

  ‘You mean Lord Seaton, of course.’ The marquis’s brow darkened and she thought he would speak to her sharply, but he drew a deep breath. ‘It will not set well with my pride to ask anything of Seaton, but for my daughter’s sake I shall do what must be done.’

  ‘I do not think you will find Lord Seaton unwilling to assist you in any way he can, sir—when he is able, of course.’

  ‘You know, then, that he has been wounded? I have not heard how he goes on. I shall enquire and ask if he will see me.’

  ‘Marianne told me about the duel, sir.’ Eliza’s eyes did not meet his squarely, for she knew more than she ought to about Daniel’s condition.

  Cheadle sighed. ‘Yes, she would. It seems my daughter recognised what I refused to acknowledge, Miss Bancroft. She told me that she had sought your advice, because you seemed to be someone she could trust. I think she recognised the kinship between you. She also told me that you had advised her to tell me the truth.’

  Eliza’s heart jerked painfully. She was not certain she understood him correctly. ‘I am not sure what you are saying, my lord?’

  ‘The ring you showed me was given by me to the woman I loved above all others. I would have taken disgrace and ruin if she would have come away with me, but she would not allow me to sacrifice myself for her. I have never loved anyone else—except for Marianne.’