by Lisa Campell
Judith accompanied Eliza upstairs, to her bed chamber, where she cried until there were no tears left. Matthew came upstairs, after seeing all of the guests out of the house. When he arrived, the two ladies were seated on the floor, with Judith’s arms wrapped around Eliza, as though she were her mother.
“You know what happens now, don’t you?” he asked. His tone had never been so grave.
She stood up, to face her brother. “Please, Matthew. You must hold him to account.”
“I shall do nothing of the sort,” he replied. “You’re the one who must do something, for it was through your actions that all of this occurred.”
A new wellspring of emotion filled Eliza’s eyes. She fought it back as best she could, but there was no stopping the rivers of anguish streaming down her cheeks. “I didn’t know what he was going to do, Matthew. I tried to get away, I promise! He was too strong. He wouldn’t let me go.” The last of her words got lost as she broke down into sobs.
Matthew sighed deeply. “I don’t want to call you a liar, Eliza. Please don’t make me.” He crossed over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Look at me.” When she raised her head, his face was sorrowfully compassionate, but firm. “You will have to marry the Earl of Wyhurst. It is the only way to fix this.”
Horrified at the thought of such a union, Eliza let out a wail. Matthew grimaced, moving his hands to the sides of her face. Out of the corner of her eye, Eliza could just make out Judith’s shape, standing just inside the room. Judith appeared to be wringing her hands, but she said nothing.
“Get ahold of yourself,” Matthew demanded. “This is your own doing, Eliza. Everyone saw you in the garden with him. There’s no way out.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry you’re hurt. I so wanted you to make a good match and be happy in your marriage. We tried our best to see to it that you had everything you needed.” He shook his head. “Now you only have two choices. Marry Lord Wyhurst, or throw it all away.”
The ultimatum was all too overwhelming for Eliza. She broke away from him and turned away. She fell devastated onto her bed, huddling as she sobbed. The door to her bed chamber opened and closed as Matthew and Judith left her. The world that had been at her fingertips mere hours ago was torn beyond her reach by an awful, villainous gentleman, one who had simply wanted to ruin her reputation in the public eye.
What had she ever done to deserve such cruel treatment? Matthew’s reaction didn’t surprise her as much as it broke her heart. Their family was one of modest means, specifically among the House of Lords. She knew he had hoped to elevate her standing through a well-placed husband, and that a fortuitous match would greatly improve all their lives.
Eliza herself hoped to marry for love, of course. But neither remained an option. It was only a matter of time—weeks, or perhaps even days—before her fall from grace was complete. After that, she would be nothing, a fallen woman, a ghost haunting the minds of her former friends and neighbors.
It was a long time before the thoughts in her head quieted down enough for Eliza to fall asleep. She dreamed of falling down through an empty abyss, her hands stretched out to grasp in vain at the sparkling paradise far above.
Chapter Four
Sebastian did not see hide nor hair of Lady Eliza Trent in the days following her catastrophic debutante ball. Neither did anyone else, but the poor lady’s name was on everyone’s lips even as the tenure of her absence stretched on. The more time went by, the more the story behind the scandal seemed to change, and Sebastian quickly grew annoyed by its prevalence.
For him, however, the situation was inescapable. After all, Matthew remained his closest friend. Matthew’s emotions regarding his sister rocked back and forth on an uneven keel, swerving from contrition over the severity of his reaction to anger at her impetuousness.
“She didn’t even have the decency to try and hide!” he exclaimed to Sebastian one day, pacing back and forth as he talked, his shoes drawing a track in the lush pile of the rug. “You saw her, standing out there like there was nothing to see!” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with her, Seb. I truly don’t.”
Sebastian counted each frustrated step in his head, maintaining an expression of appropriate interest. Privately, his sympathies had gradually come to align themselves more with Eliza. The notion that she had flung herself at the first overly amorous and available bachelor just did not ring true to him—especially not if that bachelor happened the be the Earl of Wyhurst.
“Well,” Sebastian said at last, “she seems to be keeping out of the public eye for now, doesn’t she?” He glanced at the door of Matthew’s small study, in the general direction of Eliza’s room. “She’s all but disappeared.” He could imagine her sequestered up there like a princess in a tower, combing her hair and singing desperately sad songs to no one but the birds outside her window.
“And that will do for a while.” Matthew rubbed his hands over his face. He had aged years in a matter of weeks. There might as well have been grey hairs sprouting at his temple. “But what if there’s no wedding soon, or none at all? That’s what the ton is expecting. I don’t know if it will happen. Eliza refuses to marry him.” Newly anxious, he resumed his pacing, which had briefly ceased.
Seb took up the count of his steps again. “What did Lord Wyhurst say?” He leaned back in his chair in order to affect an air of nonchalance. Underneath the calm exterior, he fretted a bit for poor Eliza. Perhaps Matthew didn’t know everything about what the Earl was like behind closed doors, but Seb had seen and heard enough.
Somehow beloved by the ignorant and the status-hungry, the gentleman was a notorious cad to everyone else. Many a hapless maiden had been left deflowered and brokenhearted in the earl’s wake. Sebastian thought Eliza was lucky to have escaped with just a kiss, though he felt it prudent not to mention the rumors of illegitimate children that had dogged Lord Wyhurst for years.
No sense in stoking Matthew’s already raging fire. Besides, Seb’s latest question seemed to have done the job nicely. His friend’s jaw tensed, eyebrows lowered darkly.
“Not a word,” Matthew muttered. “Can you believe it? It’s as if the whole night was just one long dream shared by nearly a hundred people.”
Sebastian arched his eyebrows. “And you want your sister married to this shining beacon of dishonesty?” He understood Matthew’s worries about station. To an extent, he had admired them in the past; his sheer devotion to appeasing the ton was in large part what had brought him his current small fortune. But tying his sister to an ignoble louse was not an action Sebastian could or would abide.
“What else am I to do?” Matthew burst out. He let his arms fall to his sides, a gentleman at the very end of his rope. “If she doesn’t marry him, she’ll be tainted for the rest of her life. You know how the ton never forgets.”
Sebastian did know that, better than most. And he condemned the elites for it bitterly. It was hard for him to think of lively, spirited Eliza painted so far into a corner, reduced to the level of a caged beauty. He decided, right then, to do everything in his power to save her from the fate her brother threatened.
“Speak now if you don’t want my advice,” he announced. “Not that you’ve asked, but I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re grasping at straws. Besides, I refuse to believe you want to give Eliza over to that idiot. His reputation would hurt her far more than she’s ever done on her own.”
“What do you mean?” Matthew asked the question warily, as if he already knew the answer wasn’t one he wanted to hear.
Sebastian drew in a deep breath. “Honestly, my friend, it beggars the imagination to think you haven’t heard tales of Lord Wyhurst until now. All the gilded speech about him can only hide so much.” He went on to recount some of the Earl’s exploits in as much detail as he thought Matthew could handle. The accumulation of massive debts through gambling, which were often settled with money Lord Wyhurst conned off other people. The relentless fraternizing with women of the ni
ght. The drinking and carousing until all hours of the morning.
At first, Matthew brushed off the accusations. “You’ve been had, Seb. There’s not a chance the ton would allow such behavior from one of its own, let alone one so unanimously revered. I wouldn’t be surprised if half the country were willing to fall on their swords for him. Or fight you for smearing his name.”
Sebastian stood his ground. He had to, for Eliza’s sake. “I’d take on every one of them. The Earl of Wyhurst is a liar and a coward who lives off a fortune he couldn’t possibly have made with his own hands.”
Matthew turned to him, taken aback by the force of his declaration. “I want to say you must be joking, but your face tells me otherwise.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tell me, then, and honestly. Is Lord Wyhurst a rogue undeserving of my sister?”
Sebastian nodded grimly. “I would not deceive you about this, Matthew. My chief concern is nothing other than Eliza’s safety. I truly do not believe that she is the one at fault. The Earl of Wyhurst is nothing short of a predator.”
“Of course,” Matthew muttered, in a way that suggested a healthy dose of skepticism over Sebastian’s motives. He trudged over to the chair behind the desk and threw himself down upon it, burying his face in his hands. His voice was despondent and muffled. “What do I do? I love my sister, Seb. I swear I do. She’s all I have left in the world aside from Judith. But that’s the very reason I refuse to see her utterly disgraced. She’ll be dragged through the mud.”
Sebastian acknowledged that the situation wasn’t good. He had an inkling that Lord Wyhurst had orchestrated it that way on purpose, which made him despise the Earl even more. The motivation behind an act of such meaningless cruelty baffled him. Had he sensed Eliza’s disinterest and been so enraged that he sought to destroy her immediately?
Knowing the Earl’s reputation as he did, Sebastian figured anything was possible. But he considered it most likely that Lord Wyhurst simply wanted to hurt the central figure of a celebration as grand as the one Matthew and Judith had put together for Eliza. He was unquestionably petty enough that his ego wouldn’t be able to withstand having to play second fiddle under any circumstances.
Even to a young debutante on the day of her coming out.
“I suppose it can’t be helped.” Matthew’s melancholy musings trickled back into Sebastian’s thoughts. “If she can’t be married, I shall have to send her away.”
Alarmed, Sebastian sat up. This was an eventuality he had not taken into account, and it caused the error of his previous argument to yawn before him. “Away to where?” he inquired.
Matthew glanced at his friend, puzzled. “To Ireland. Where else? It’s not like we’ve got our pick of land.” He grimaced. “She’ll hate it, obviously. The estate is striking, but it leaves a lot to be desired. We’ve not been out there in a long time.”
In addition to Colchester Manor, there was a county seat that went with the title, although it was all of the way to the North, in Ireland. The family rarely went there. Sebastian had gone with them, once, while the late Lord and Lady Colchester were still alive. It had been a journey of nearly a week. And when they had arrived, it had seemed as though they had come to the very end of the world itself.
It pained Sebastian deeply to think of Eliza so far away, and so very alone. At least in London she had her brother and her sister-in-law. Colchester Manor was the only place she had to call home. What would become of her if she was left to her own devices in a falling-down house on the sea cliffs of Ireland? Those were the makings of a sad legend, a myth about a wandering, permanently displaced ghost.
“There’s no other solution?” he prodded hopefully.
Matthew scoffed. “Not unless she finds a different husband, and I don’t think any of the gentlemen would touch her with a ten-foot pole. Lord Wyhurst told them she was free and easy, that she’d take a night walk in the garden with most any gentleman.” Black disgust masked his features.
“Not Eliza.” Sebastian flat-out rejected the notion. He hated Lord Wyhurst for spreading slander, and he hated the ton for lapping it up like dogs. “She wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Well, I thought not.” Matthew heaved another great sigh and slumped in the chair like a scarecrow losing its straw stuffing. “Maybe I was too harsh to her. Do you know she hasn’t so much as set foot out of her room since the night of the ball? Judith’s spoken to her, but she won’t say more than two words at a stretch to me.”
Sebastian didn’t find that surprising in the least. For all the pranks that Matthew played, for all the jokes he liked to tell, he was capable of ruling with an iron fist. The genesis was always love, but Seb knew it didn’t come across that way every time. Matthew was the one pursuing Eliza’s union with a gentleman she most likely despised. What she needed instead was an alternative.
Suddenly, a revelation struck Sebastian squarely between the eyes. He did not have to be told that Matthew would take issue, even severely. But his proposal was better than the bleak fate that awaited Eliza otherwise.
“What are you thinking now, Seb?” Matthew sounded tired, but wary. “I’m not sure I like that look.”
Sebastian pressed his lips together. “You don’t,” he agreed, taking a deep breath. “Let me marry Eliza.”
Matthew blinked, positive he hadn’t heard correctly. “What?”
“Let me take Eliza as my wife.” Sebastian didn’t let his conviction waver. “In name only, that much I swear. It will let you keep her close, and it will spare her an unwilling lifetime at Lord Wyhurst’s side.”
Once more plunged into twisting conflict, Matthew got to his feet and circumvented the study. His brow furrowed deeply. “If I have reservations,” he said slowly, “I trust you understand them without offense.”
“I do,” said Sebastian, for his not-so-illustrious notoriety was entirely his own doing. “But I trust you aren’t seriously comparing my integrity to that of the Earl of Wyhurst.”
Matthew groaned. “You mean this.” It was not a question. “To marry my sister. You mean it.”
“Unquestionably. It is, in my view, the best way to protect her.”
“If you do anything to hurt her, Sebastian,” Matthew said. “You can be sure that you will face me. And I will challenge you to a duel. Mark my words.”
“I swear to you,” Sebastian replied. “I won’t lay a finger on her.”
“You know what I’m speaking of,” Matthew shot back.
“I won’t take another lover again, if that’s what you’re referring to,” Sebastian replied. Though he would not be able to be a husband to Eliza. Not in the traditional sense. “It will be a marriage of convenience. I can give her back her place amongst the ton. Let me do this, for the love that I bear you as a friend, and for all that your family has done for me, over the years.”
Matthew’s eyes widened, for he knew exactly what Lord and Lady Colchester had done for Sebastian. He was silent, brooding for a long moment.
“Very well. You have my permission to marry Eliza. A marriage of convenience, to get her back her good name and reputation. For this, I will be in your debt,” he said.
“Not at all,” Sebastian replied. “Consider this the repayment of the debt that I owe your parents for practically raising me, since my own could not.”
Chapter Five
Judith was Eliza’s only visitor for quite some time. At least twice a day, she would knock softly on the perpetually closed door. Eliza never spoke up to invite her in, but Judith always entered and took up her spot beside the former debutante. They would sit in silence, and Eliza was grateful to her for that.
Judith was always tempting her with different foods and sweets, trying to get her to eat something more than just tea and dry toast. She was always coaxing something strengthening into her, like a mother. Eliza ached for her own mother, dead for several years by then. She would have known just what to do.
Matthew was much less devoted. Eliza knew when he dropped by her room only becau
se he’d call to her from the outside. His voice was usually exasperated, a little impatient. The way it had been when they were children and she’d done something to vex him.
“Are you ready to come out?” he’d ask. Or sometimes, “Are you ever going to speak to me again, Eliza?”
The answer to the first question was still a resounding no; to the second question, she wasn’t sure. Judith had told her right away of Matthew’s intent to marry her off to the Earl of Wyhurst, and although she expected it, Eliza was angry and hurt. In childhood, Matthew had been her staunchest ally, and she felt he was abandoning her now, when she needed him the most. Just as he had teased her about on that very same night, he was throwing her on the mercy of the ton.
“How can I forgive him?” she asked Judith one day through tears. “He didn’t have the heart to listen to my side of the story, or even ask me if I wanted to be married to that awful gentleman. Why would he ever think that I’d give any part of myself away so easily?” The tears streamed freely down her cheeks at any moment on any given day, unable to be staunched by a single handkerchief.