“No, I could not eat.”
“But could you not manage some tea? Or even just a little water?”
“Perhaps just some water,” he said in a tone of voice that reminded her a little of her father when she had been just a girl and he had been appeasing her over some matter or other.
Eliza reached out to the bedside table and lifted the water jug, pouring a little into the glass which stood next to it.
“Can you sit up?” she said, knowing that she could not tip the water down his throat as he lay prone.
“Yes, I think so,” he said and tried to lever himself up on arms that were too tired to hold him.
With an inward shudder, Eliza realized that she would have to help him. Reaching across him, she took two large feather pillows from the other side of the bed and set them against the headboard behind him. She then wrapped her arms around his chest, wedging them firmly under his arms before pulling him up to sitting with all her might.
Eliza was surprised both by the sheer weight of the man and by her ability to move him. She must surely be stronger than she had imagined.
As Augustus settled back into the pillows she had propped up around him, Eliza reached for the half-full glass and sat down on the edge of his bed again. He reached for the glass, and she was relieved that he had at least the strength to do that. If he had not, she would have felt a terrible sense of duty that she should stay with him all day and see to his every need.
But if he needed nothing more than to be handed things and moved a little, the maids would manage without her. However much pity she felt for him at that moment, Eliza did not forget how he had treated her and how frightened she had been.
Augustus only took a few sips of the water before letting out a great sigh, dropping his head back onto the pillows, and holding out the glass for her to take from him.
“Are you sure that is enough? Your colour is not good, Augustus.”
“It is all I want,” he said with some exasperation.
“And you are sure that you could not manage a little something to eat if only bread-and-butter?”
“I told you before, I do not want anything.”
“Very well,” Eliza said and was careful to keep her own tone from a tendency towards waspishness. “But I think, perhaps, the physician ought to be sent for.”
“Oh, what do you care, Eliza?” he said and turned his head slowly to look at her, not raising up from the pillows at all. “What do you care if I live or die? I do not understand why you are here.”
“I am here, Augustus because you are clearly unwell,” she said and realized there was a small amount of truth in that.
“Perhaps you have come to gloat, my dear. After all, I am the one who has slouched away from the marital bed. You very likely think that your accusations of my failure are absolutely right now. After all, here I lay, and now you have your proof.”
“I understand that you do not know me very well, Augustus, but I am not given to acts of such spite under any circumstances.”
“Why not? I would be.”
“Yes, I am very well aware of that.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I have already answered that question,” Eliza said with a sigh. “And I would much rather avoid any conversation between us that will end in an argument. Not only do I think you are too ill for such things, but I have had enough of it. I do not want any more of that.”
“Does that mean that you will try a little harder in the future?” he said and stared at her with eyes so pale they looked washed out.
“I have already tried, Augustus. It is just that you have failed to see it,” she said and felt her anger being prodded once more.
Even as he lay there in such a state, and even as she had come to him to try to help despite his unreasonable treatment of her in the past, still he wanted to be right. He had identified with his position and was determined to defend it no matter what.
“Well, we shall just have to see.” He attempted a shrug but even that seemed like too much effort for him.
“So, as to the physician, may I send for him?”
“No, I do not want Dr Ellis pacing around this room reminding me that I eat too much, and I drink too much. That will not make me feel better; that will make me feel worse.”
“There might be something that he can give you, a tonic or a draught.”
“There is only one thing that seems to cure this ill, my dear, and it is not something that Dr Ellis provides.”
“It is only a temporary measure when one seeks to cure oneself with another drink, Augustus,” Eliza said and kept her tone as neutral as possible.
“You would seek to lecture me on my habits?” She could not read his mood from his tone of voice, and yet there was something in his eyes which made her feel fearful once again.
“I would not seek to do that, Augustus. I am just aware that it is not a cure.”
“Then you will not run downstairs and bring me the decanter?” He was eyeing her with curious intensity, and she was left wondering if there was any possible way she could answer that question that would please him.
If she ran to get the decanter, she would be gladly helping him to make himself worse. And if she did not get it, she would be defying him.
“No, Augustus, I will not bring you the decanter. I will ring the bell for you if you wish and you may demand that one of the maids bring it for you. But I will not help you make yourself sick.”
“Why not? You would be done with me then, would you not?”
“How can you think that of me?” Eliza kept her tone gentle, remembering how her husband did not like to be argued with.
“I think from everything you said the other day it is clear that you despise me.”
“Then think of everything that you said to me before that day, Augustus. If either one of us made our dislike known first, it was you.”
“You are angry because I blamed you for not yet being with child.”
“Of course, I am angry; it is not a part of life for which people should apportion blame. And I include myself in that,” she said and realized that she meant it.
“I know that I should not have said to you the things I said the other day, for it is not right to speak to one another in such a way. But at the risk of sounding like a petulant child, it all began with you. You have blamed and blamed, and you have humiliated me, and I struck back. I did not choose to strike back at you, it overtook me, and I could not stop it. But now is not the time for this, is it? Can we not forget any idea of blame and simply get on with the matter of living?”
“Yes, yes, I think that would be best,” he said and turned his head away from her as if he could not look her in the eye whilst he agreed with her.
“Very well,” she said and patted the back of his hand before hurriedly rising to her feet. “Well, I am going to have some tea and bread-and-butter sent up anyway, just in case you think you might be able to manage a little something. And perhaps I will call in a little later to see if you have changed your mind about Dr Ellis.” He turned back to look at her, his face both repulsive and pitiful, and she did her best to smile at him reassuringly.
“Thank you,” he said, and she nodded before turning to leave the room.
Chapter 18
With the Duke in his sick bed and making none of his usual demands, Daniel was free to spend a little time in the study he kept in his own home in town.
He was awaiting the arrival of Adrian Fitzmaurice, a wealthy man of industry who had made it known he was looking for a new attorney to deal with his affairs.
In the last few days, not having seen anything of Eliza, Daniel had quietly decided to go ahead with his plans to increase his list of private clients and start to turn his attention towards his own future.
As far as Daniel was aware, there was nothing of note to keep Eliza out of the morning room. When they had spoken in the woods, they had certainly parted on good terms, and just by dint of the fact that she had as
ked him to post her letter to her friend, Daniel had felt them as much allies as ever.
Whilst he was sure that he had done nothing to change that, he could hardly imagine that the Duke had either. After so many weeks of indulgence the likes of which even the Duke of Lytton had never risen to before, he hardly thought the man was in any fit state to cause his wife too many problems.
In fact, as he had heard it from the butler, the Duke had not come downstairs for days on end. Surely it would be easier than ever before for Eliza and Daniel to have a few minutes conversation in private.
With a groan, Daniel rose from his seat behind the heavy oak desk and crossed his study to peer out of the window. He lived in a nice part of town, a very wealthy street, and he always gained a little satisfaction from looking out onto his surroundings.
His townhouse was large and well-appointed for a single man living on his own, and he even maintained a small household staff of a housekeeper, a maid of all works, and a houseboy.
Daniel knew he had much to be satisfied with and yet, of late, he had felt himself to be more discontented than he had ever been in his life.
He knew, of course, that he had let his imagination run away with him more than once regarding Eliza Tate. How often he forgot that she was the Duchess, a married woman, unavailable to all but her husband.
And yet his mood seemed to swing wildly, one moment common sense taking over and telling him that he must build his life away from the Duchy and forget her, and in the next moment, his heart telling him he could not leave her there alone to suffer at the hands of a man who had finally shown himself to be a drunken brute.
Daniel checked his pocket watch and turned back into the room. It would be at least another twenty minutes before his potential client arrived. It would do no good to have his housekeeper set up a tea tray now; the whole thing would be cold and useless by the time Fitzmaurice arrived.
Just as he was thinking that he would have to find some way to spend his waiting time, other than thinking about Eliza, there was a tap on his study door and his wonderful housekeeper, Mrs Arklow, popped her head around it.
“Ah, my guest has arrived, Mrs Arklow?” Daniel said brightly, pleased that he could get on with his afternoon without losing himself in further thoughts of Eliza.
“No, Mr Fitzmaurice is not yet here, Sir.” Mrs Arklow stepped into the room, her ageing face and rotund figure always something of a comfort to Daniel. “There is a young lady to see you, Mr Winchester. I did tell her that you had a client coming soon, but she said that it was urgent, and it would only take a few minutes.” She winced and raised her eyebrows in question.
“Very well, Mrs Arklow, show her in,” he said and felt a sudden, ridiculous hope that it was Eliza herself. “By the way, who is it?” he whispered hurriedly before his housekeeper disappeared to collect his guest.
“It is a Miss West, Sir.”
Daniel did not respond; he simply nodded. He was certain that he did not know a Miss West, or at least he could not place her if he did. But when his housekeeper showed in the small, dark little woman, he recognized her immediately as Eliza’s lady’s maid.
“Good afternoon, Miss West,” Daniel said a little uncertainly.
His mind began to race with possibilities as he wondered why on earth Eliza’s maid would have come out of Lytton Hall and down into the town to see him.
No doubt Eliza had sent her on some mission, and he began to nurse the hope that she would want to see him after so many days separation.
“Good afternoon, Mr Winchester.” She gave him a brittle smile and fixed him with bright, fierce blue eyes.
“And what can I do for you today?” He smiled at her and waved his hand to indicate that she should sit down in the chair opposite his desk.
“Thank you,” she said as she settled herself.
“Forgive me, Miss West, I do not wish to hurry you, but I have a client due in a matter of minutes.”
“Yes, your housekeeper said as much, Mr Winchester. And so, I shall get straight to the point.” There was something clipped in her manner, something that he had never heard in any other maid before.
There was no hint of the customary deference, the shy, self-conscious mode of speaking. Instead, Nella West seemed to be a very forthright young woman, and something about her demeanour unsettled him a little.
“Very well,” he said and nodded as if to hurry her along.
“You seem surprised to see me, Mr Winchester, so I can only assume that the Duchess of Lytton has not spoken to you about the conversation I had with her some days ago,” she began in a surprisingly bold voice for one so small.
Everything about her was so dainty, almost like a little porcelain doll, and Daniel had quite expected her to speak with the voice of a child. But to hear her speak with the voice of a woman, and a very confident one at that, upended him somewhat.
“Her Grace has not mentioned anything about a conversation. But I cannot imagine why she would discuss such a thing with me. It is not her custom to tell me every little detail of what passes between herself and her maid.” Daniel shrugged.
“I am surprised, given that the two of you seem to be so very close.” She stared at him intently, and he realized that she was trying to gauge his reaction to her comment.
When he saw the faintest of smiles cross her lips, he realized that he must have given her at least some satisfaction in his response. And why would he not? Her words had all but turned him upside down.
Why on earth would she suggest that there was any closeness between the Duchess and himself? And how would she know it?
Without speaking, Daniel studied Nella West for a moment. She was smoothing out the black fabric of her austere maid’s gown in an unconcerned, almost bored manner. It was as if she was waiting for him to catch up somehow, and something about her conduct annoyed him.
“I do not know what you wish to convey with such a declaration, Miss West, I strongly suggest that you explain yourself immediately.” Ordinarily, Daniel would never have used such a tone on anybody, least of all a servant of his employer.
But, although she had said very little yet, Daniel felt curiously exposed, as if every detail of his heart had been opened up and laid bare before this woman so that she might inspect it. He knew, of course, that it was ridiculous, and yet he still suffered a hunted sense that he did not like at all.
Nella West was a young woman, not very much older than Eliza herself, and yet she suddenly appeared to him like a force to be reckoned with.
“As I have discussed with my mistress, I have witnessed the two of you together and am more than prepared to seek an audience with His Grace and tell him of my concerns.”
“And what concerns could you possibly have? Seeing two people under the same roof hardly constitutes an intrigue of any kind. I cannot begin to imagine what it is you hope to gain from this, young lady, but I would urge you to be cautious. As much as you might choose to seek an audience with His Grace, you must remember that I have his ear already, not to mention his trust, whereas it would be unlikely that he would even know your name.” He regretted his last comment, for Daniel had never been a pompous man under any circumstances.
And yet he knew that he must make his position decidedly clear. He needed her to fear him, and he knew it. “And so, I do not rate your chances very highly being believed in this little tale of yours. You are overreaching, Miss West, and I believe you know that.”
Love Stories of Enchanting Ladies: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 15