“Eliza, please …”
“I have not decided what I shall do, but I know that I will never forgive you for this day, no matter what the outcome of it all. I shall never forgive any of you.”
“Please, your mother need not hear you say that,” he said beseechingly.
“I see that I am to sacrifice my own feelings but spare all of yours.” She laughed mirthlessly. “Well, I would beg you to release me now, Father,” she said, choosing not to call him the more endearing Papa for the first time in her life. “After all, I have much to think about, do I not?”
“Very well, Eliza,” he said with a sad nod. “But I would beg you to put such feelings aside and look at it all in a practical way.”
“There is no practical way to look at a heart unless one is a surgeon and intends to cut it out,” she said, wincing at the brutality of her own words before silently leaving the room and closing the door behind her.
Chapter 2
“It is all so awful, Eliza. I have thought and thought, and I still cannot imagine what I would do if I were in your position,” Ariadne Holloway said as her eyes shone with tears, and not for the first time.
“How would I manage without you, Ariadne?” Eliza handed her dearest friend a crisp white handkerchief from the pocket of her gown. “But you must not upset yourself so. I cannot bear to see you with tears in your eyes. It makes everything seem so final.”
“Forgive me.” Ariadne dabbed her eyes and looked around the drawing room of Tarleton House, the fashionable home of Lady Dearborn.
The two young women were attending their standing invitation to play bridge with Lady Dearborn and her large circle of friends, just as they did every Thursday.
That long-standing engagement meant so much to Eliza, for it was where she was first properly introduced to Miles Gainsborough almost two years before.
She had admired him from afar for so long that she could hardly believe it when he asked their hostess for an introduction to the shy, dark-haired young daughter of the Earl of Bexley.
It seemed like such a long time ago to Eliza now. She had long since been at ease in the company of Miles and his family that the transition into marriage and becoming a part of the Gainsborough household would have been the most simple and seamless thing.
At first, they had met only once a week in that very drawing room at Tarleton House, every time trying to spend as much of the afternoon together as possible without leaving themselves exposed to gossip.
But as the weeks and months had moved on, they began to take little walks together on other days, meeting here and there as if by chance. Eventually, they had each introduced the idea of the other to their own families, and it was a move which had proved pleasing to all.
Lord Gainsborough was more than happy that his son was to make a fine match in the daughter of an Earl, and the Earl himself found much to admire in the son of the Baron.
In truth, there had never been a moment’s hesitation from either father in the developing courtship of their offspring. And for Eliza, that simply served to make the whole upset so much harder to bear.
“Did you speak to Miles? Did you tell him it all?” Ariadne said in a whisper as the pair kept themselves apart from the rest of the room on a small couch just large enough to accommodate them.
It seemed very unlikely that either one of them would partake of a game of bridge that day; there was simply too much to talk about, and neither woman could have concentrated fully in any case.
“Yes, I sent a message to him immediately to tell him that I wanted to meet him at Bagley Wood the very next morning, and that was when I told him everything.”
“And what did he say?” Ariadne said, her eyes wide.
“He was wonderful; he really was so calm and poised. He displayed every quality that I love about him.”
“Yes, Miles certainly is a very steady sort of a man.” Ariadne nodded furiously in agreement.
“He said that I would be understandably upset, that my father had given me a terrible burden, one that I should never have been handed.”
“And I can only agree with that,” Ariadne said sagely.
“But he was not cruel about my father, not for a moment. I have to admit that I was rather relieved about that, for as angry as I am with my entire family, I cannot help feeling that old loyalty and love.”
“That is to be expected, my dear. As awful as it all is, I cannot think that your father came to this conclusion lightly.” Ariadne sniffed. “Which is not to say that I think you should consider his request.”
“I do love you for your fierce loyalty, Ariadne,” Eliza said and meant it. “Miles made it all seem very much easier as if something would turn up. He said that he could not manage without me, that he would not let me go without a fight. I must say, I truly felt loved at that moment.”
“Oh, how wonderful.” Ariadne’s gaze had softened, and Eliza, who knew her of old, instantly recognized her descent into the romantic.
“He told me that it was not for me to put an end to my family’s troubles. And he said that if my father had never had a daughter, he would have to find another way. I must admit, I had never thought of it like that.”
“Well, that certainly does make a good deal of sense. It is clear that he loves you, and he would never let you go.”
“I did walk away from our meeting with much more certainty in my heart than I had felt previously. I know that I cannot marry the Duke of Lytton, an ageing man I know nothing about. It is too much to bear to be sold off, for that is what it all boils down to, does it not?”
“I hate to say it, truly I do, but yes, it is very much the same. And worse still, it is far from unusual in our society, is it? Even in the finest of families, a loving and caring family such as your own, in the end, the daughter counts for very little, does she?” Ariadne said and shuddered.
She stared off into the distance, and Eliza realized that Ariadne was imagining herself in a similar situation, the victim of her father’s burden of guilt with her family’s entire fortunes resting on her word.
“That is very true. But at least I mean more than that to Miles,” Eliza said as she closed her eyes for a moment and remembered how it felt to be in his arms as he held her tightly and soothed her before she had made her way back to her father’s house.
“Where is Miles?” Ariadne said and looked all around the room. “The afternoon is all but over, and there is still no sign of him.”
“Goodness, you are right. I had not realized how the time had flown. But I wonder where he could be; he never misses,” Eliza said and began to feel a little concerned.
“I cannot think that he will come now, there is but half an hour of today’s games left.” Ariadne looked as concerned as Eliza felt. “Perhaps we ought to take the carriage now and go over to Cherry Trees to see if he is unwell. We really ought to enquire, Eliza.”
“Yes, I think you are right. I shall not settle if I think he has come to some harm on the road here.” She was already rising to her feet. “Come, let us make our apologies to Lady Dearborn.”
Cherry Trees was a sprawling estate encompassing a large manor house which was the fine home of the Baron, Lord Gainsborough. And yet, despite its stately appearance, it always felt very homely to Eliza. Perhaps that was because she felt so very at home with its occupants.
“No, I shall wait here in the carriage for you,” Ariadne said as the driver helped Eliza down. “We need only be here long enough for you to be sure that all is well. If I come in with you too, the family will feel a need to go to some effort, and I really would not have that.”
“Very well, Ariadne. I shall see to it that I am brief,” Eliza said and smiled nervously at her friend before darting towards the front of the house.
The butler was already opening the door as she reached it, and he smiled at her as he pulled it wider and allowed her admittance.
“Forgive me, is Mr Gainsborough at home?”
“Yes, he is at home, Lady
Ashton. Perhaps you would be so kind as to wait here whilst I let Mr Gainsborough know that you have come to see him?”
“Oh yes, of course,” she said, relieved that her beloved Miles would seem to have come to no harm.
The butler returned in no time and asked her to follow him towards the drawing room. He announced her presence before backing away and closing the door behind him, leaving Eliza and Miles alone.
“Miles, forgive my sudden appearance, but I was so worried when you did not arrive at Lady Dearborn’s,” Eliza said and smiled broadly as she hurried across the room to where he stood at the side of the fireplace. “Are you quite well, my dear?”
Eliza could see that Miles looked rather anxious and pale. He had one hand leaning against the stone mantle of the fireplace and seemed to be absently tracing the small, ornate scrollwork with his finger.
He looked at her briefly and then looked away again, reminding her for an awful moment of her father just days before in his study at Bexley Hall.
“I am well, Eliza. Physically well,” he said and finally turned his handsome dark eyes on her.
“Miles, whatever it is, you must tell me,” Eliza said and felt suddenly a little faint; she almost knew what was coming.
“I hardly know where to begin.”
“Well, you must try.”
“I have discussed your situation with my father. I was sure that you would not mind, given how well the two of you get along.”
“No, of course, I do not mind. I have no secrets from you, Miles. And I have none from your father.”
“Perhaps we ought to sit down. You look a little pale,” he said as he gently took her elbow and led her to the small couch covered in grey velvet.
He settled her into her seat and sat at her side, reaching out to take her hand in his.
“Miles, what has happened?” Eliza’s mouth felt dry, and she could hardly say the words.
“I do not know how to say this, but it appears that your father is not the only one with financial concerns.”
“What do you mean?”
“It would seem that my father was rather relying on the dowry that your father had promised him in the event of our marriage.”
“But it was not so large, was it?”
“No, but it seems that it was necessary.”
“And so what now? What does that mean?” Eliza asked, knowing the answer, knowing she did not want to hear it, and yet knowing that she must ask.
“I am afraid that I will not be able to marry you, Eliza,” he said and could not meet her eye.
“For goodness sake, did the dowry mean that much? Was that all I was worth?”
“My father has insisted that I choose a bride elsewhere now that it seems unlikely that your father will be able to pay any dowry at all.”
“But just days ago you said that you would never give up on me. You said that you would not let me go without a fight, and now it seems that you will not even stand up to your own father. Miles, I love you. And you led me to believe that you loved me too.”
“Of course I love you, Eliza. You know I do.”
“You love me, and yet you have given up so easily? It is bad enough that my father has given up on me, but at least he is about to lose everything. Surely your father is not in the same situation; I cannot think that he is.”
“No, but every estate needs new money to come into it. That is how they survive, my dear. It is no good me inheriting an estate from my father that is not thriving. It would do neither you nor I any good whatsoever.”
“I wish you would not tell me what would or would not do me good, Miles. I do not expect such riches. All I ever wanted was you. I would make any economy I needed to so that you and I could be married, and I am sure that you are clever enough to find some other way to bring money into this estate as time goes by.”
“But do you not see that it is a risk I cannot take?”
“No, I see that it is a risk you will not take, and there sits the difference,” she said angrily, utterly tired of the deep sense of self-pity the most important men in her life had displayed in the recent days. “Because that would take courage, would it not? And perhaps only a little courage at that.”
“I wish you would not argue with me on the matter, Eliza, for I find it extraordinarily painful. You cannot think that I am happy about any of this; you cannot think that I have not suffered unending sleeplessness.”
“But your sleeplessness will end when you find a wife of means, will it not? It seems that mine will never end, but what of it? What man in my world would give a care for anything that I suffer?” She rose to her feet, hardly recognizing her angry tone. “I will never again believe in the courage of men, that much I can promise you.”
She began to march angrily towards the door, determined that she would be away from the house before the first of her devastated tears began to fall. She would have to maintain her anger, to nurse it and hold onto it to give her at least that much dignity in the face of so complete a humiliation.
“Eliza, please,” he said, echoing her father’s own plea in the face of her anger.
“No,” she said, her voice cold and her heart aching. “It is not men who need courage in this world, it is women. And why? Because we are the ones who are treated no better than pieces on a chess board. We simply come with purses attached to us, or not as the case may be, and we are served accordingly. You may have suffered a sleepless night, perhaps even two, but if this is as strong as you are, you would never be able to manage the fate which I will have to accept with dignity,” she said and opened the door, dashing out of it at speed.
By the time she reached the carriage, tears were welling in her eyes. She looked over her shoulder briefly, fearful that he would be following her. When she saw that he did not follow, Eliza realized that she felt worse still.
Miles really had meant it, he would not marry her. Perhaps it had served his purpose well that she had been quick to anger and removed herself from his presence before he had to take on board any more guilt before his future sleep was threatened any further.
The driver, somewhat taken aback, jumped down from his seat and quickly helped her into the carriage, driving away without awaiting her instructions.
“Oh, my dear Eliza, whatever has happened?” Ariadne said, already becoming upset before she even knew what had passed between Eliza and Miles.
“The worst, Ariadne.” Eliza began to sob. “The very worst.”
Chapter 3
Daniel Winchester had already been waiting in the Duke’s study for more than half an hour by the time his employer arrived. It was not uncommon for Daniel to have to wait for him; it just seemed to irk him today where ordinarily it would not have done.
Perhaps it was because the Duke had insisted that Daniel attend his forthcoming nuptials to the daughter of the Earl of Bexley.
In truth, there was not much in this world which fed Daniel a larger dose of boredom than attending somebody else’s wedding. For one thing, he could hardly believe the match to be a natural one, born of the deepest regard of one person for another.
After all, how could it be? The Duke was an unfit man who had run to fat and looked very much more than his five and fifty years. And as for the bride, she was reported to be something of a beauty, and at just nineteen years, entirely unsuitable for his employer.
Something about it all irritated Daniel Winchester and made him glad that he was simply a man of middle-class with education, a well-developed intelligence, and a sense that the people who behaved in such a way were most certainly not his betters.
Love Stories of Enchanting Ladies: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 2