by Joyce Alec
Since that night, her father had never returned to his clubs, not once stayed to gamble or play piquet, never reached for a glass of port or whiskey. He was quiet and unsociable, waiting for Lord Penn to call in his debts whilst saying nothing to his family. Eliza's soft heart ached for him, whilst wishing desperately that there was an easy way out. The Williams necklace was packed carefully in her trunk, taken from her mother’s bedroom without her knowledge. Eliza hoped she could find a solution before the week’s end.
“Violet, my dear,” said Lady Bessington with her arms outstretched as she welcomed Eliza’s mother to her home. “How good it is to see you once more.”
“Catherine, it is as though you have not aged a single day since I saw you last,” Eliza’s mother replied. “Let me introduce you to my daughters. This is Eliza, my eldest, and Sophie.” Eliza and Sophie both gave elegant curtsies to the dowager countess, who studied them both with an appraising eye.
“Both beautiful, I see.” She smiled at them warmly, a handsome woman still, in spite of her years. “You are both very welcome. I do hope that you enjoy your stay here.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Eliza said.
Lady Bessington laughed.
“None of that nonsense, I beg you. You are daughters of my dear friend, Violet, so you must refer to me as Catherine. I insist.”
Surprised at being granted such an intimacy, both girls smiled and nodded, immediately feeling at home with Lady Bessington.
“You have a beautiful home,” Sophie remarked, aware of the magnificent paintings on the wall as well as the plush carpet.
"Thank you, my dear," Catherine replied. "My son has no time for such ‘frivolities,' as he calls them, so he has left the decorating of the house to me. It is something I greatly enjoy." Smiling, Lady Bessington rose to ring for refreshments.
“Girls,” their mother began. “Please go to your rooms and refresh yourselves. I shall be along momentarily.”
Realizing that their mama wanted a long, comfortable coze with her dear friend, Eliza and Sophie nodded, making their way from the drawing room up the grand staircase to their private rooms above.
The following day, Eliza and Sophie sat at the dining table with all the other guests, who had arrived earlier that day. Eliza was extremely thankful that she was sitting next to Lord Stockton and nowhere near Lord Penn, who was sandwiched between the buxom Lady Durness and the extremely large Lord Hutton.
"Are we to see much of Lord Bessington?"
Eliza's turned to her host, listening carefully for the answer to her mother's question. She had never met the earl who was, by all accounts, a fairly unpleasant individual. The rumors were that he was both extremely boring and incredibly serious, rarely smiling or finding amusement in anything. She would be interested to find out if it was indeed the case.
“I’m afraid my son is extremely busy with estate business,” Lady Bessington replied, a trifle hastily. “We shall see him on occasion, I am sure. He intends to greet you all tonight, although I cannot say exactly when.”
Eliza thought to herself for a moment, ignoring the rest of the conversation. Was Lord Bessington truly busy, or was he simply avoiding his guests? She imagined him for a moment – a serious, dull man, maybe with spectacles and a constant frown. Smiling to herself, she was thrown back into the present by the sound of her sister’s laughter. Glancing around, she was relieved to find that no one had noticed her lack of interest, although she was slightly perturbed to find that her sister was deep in conversation with Lord Stockton, leaving her out entirely. At the same time, she caught Lord Penn staring at her with a smirk on his face, aware he had her firmly in his clutches. Feeling a little unsteady, she rose gracefully and excused herself from the table for a few moments, choosing to visit the powder room to regain her poise.
“Ah, Anthony, so good of you to join us!”
Anthony bowed to the seated guests, waving away any attempt from the ladies to rise to their feet. He glanced around the table, noting the empty seat, before returning his gaze to his mother.
“Thank you, Mother, but I cannot stay for long.”
“Not even for a glass of port?” his mother queried, wishing her son were not so dismissive of her guests.
“Perhaps later,” Anthony replied, his interest already waning. “I am afraid I have much work to do on the estate, but I shall endeavor to return later this evening."
Slightly mollified, his mother nodded, accepting his excuses with grace.
“Thank you, Anthony, we look forward to seeing you later this evening.”
Nodding to his guests, Anthony left the room, hurrying back to his study. Whilst it was true that he had much estate business to catch up on, he also did not want to fritter away his time on such things as cards, port, and cheroots. He found such things dull and uninspiring, much preferring a good gallop on his horse or a walk in the woods in the early mornings. Hastening his steps around the corner, he walked straight into a young woman, knocking her back onto the floor.
“Oh, my apologies!” he said hastily, reaching for her hand. If only it had not been so dimly lit in the hallway, he might not have collided with her. “Are you quite all right?”
Eliza, highly embarrassed, got to her feet without his aid and straightened her dress.
"No damage done, I assure you," she replied primly. "Please excuse me." With as much dignity as she could muster, Eliza walked back to the dining room, wanting to escape the situation as soon as she could.
She assumed that she had walked straight into the earl, the candlelight hiding his features. It had been like walking into a wall; the man had been tall and solid. She was sure her legs must have been in full view, her cheeks flaming at the thought. Struggling to regain her composure, she seated herself gracefully but had to rise almost immediately as the ladies moved to the drawing room, leaving the men to their port and cheroots. With any luck, nobody would know of her disastrous first meeting with the earl.
3
Eliza couldn’t wait to excuse herself, needing both space and silence. Lord Penn had ensured her mind was full of him and his demands, sidling up to her as the evening went on, whispering words that tied her stomach in knots. Her jerky nod confirmed that yes, she had brought the necklace. She watched his face light up with a wicked rejoicing. He had kissed her hand and left her alone, his piercing glances still catching her eye now and again. She hated to give him the satisfaction of seeing her struggle, so she raised her chin and refused to be cowed. Retiring early would show him that he was getting to her, and she refused to give him the gratification.
“Are you quite well, my dear?”
Eliza smiled up at Lord Stockton, wishing her face had not given so much away. “I am well, my lord, thank you. Travelling has always wearied me; that is all.”
Lord Stockton smiled down at her, the corners of his brown eyes crinkling. She loved that about him.
“Should you care for a turn about the room?”
Eliza placed her hand on his arm in response, surprised when he eventually took her out of the drawing room and along the hallway.
“I must ask you something, Miss Williams.”
Confusion clouded her features. “Indeed, Lord Stockton? Whatever can it be?”
He took her hand gently in his own, turning his body to face her. “You must know, my dear, how I have come to care for you. It would bring me great pleasure if you were to call me by my given name, should you care to.”
Eliza’s stomach swirled. This was a big step forward in their relationship and one she had not expected quite so soon. However, it was not something she was averse to, knowing that she too had begun to care for Lord Stockton.
"I thank you for your candor, Lord Stockton. I should be very pleased to do so, when we are in private or not within hearing of the other guests.”
Lord Stockton nodded in understanding. It would not do to be too obvious in their attachment at such an early stage. He would accept her request.
“Indeed
, Miss Williams, I understand entirely. When we are in private, then.”
“Yes, thank you…John.” She smiled, his name sounding both unusual and right on her tongue. “And, of course, you may call me Elizabeth, or Eliza, if you prefer.”
“Eliza it shall be,” John replied, his voice happy. “It suits you much better, I think." He gazed into her eyes for a moment, his head slowly lowering as Eliza realized that he was about to kiss her. In response, she tilted her head up, closing her eyes as his lips touched her own. Whilst unsure how kisses were meant to feel, she was disappointed that there were no fireworks exploding around her, nor did she feel any excitement or overwhelming delight. As he broke the kiss, she struggled to hide her dissatisfaction, glad that the candlelight would conceal most of her expression.
“I think we should return to the drawing room,” John said softly, his hands still clasping her around the waist. “Although I should very much like to keep kissing you.”
Laughing, Eliza turned and began to walk slowly back up the hallway, wishing that she could say she felt the same. Perhaps, she thought, it would get better with practice.
The darkness was slowly dissipating, meaning it would not be long until the servants were up and about. Eliza had slept poorly as thoughts of Lord Penn, as well as her disappointing kiss with Lord Stockton, kept her tossing and turning. Now it was barely daylight, and Eliza was already washed and dressed, dispensing with any tight-fitting corsets for the time being. She had tied her hair in a plain braid, which hung over her shoulder, aware that there would be no one to see her state of dress. Intending to take a short walk through the estate gardens, and possibly into the small wood that she had explored on the outskirts the day before, she hoped that the fresh air would help rid her of her melancholy thoughts. Taking a breath, she eased open her door and down the stairs, slipping through the front door without a noise.
Walking quickly across the lawn and away from the great house, Eliza inhaled a great breath of fresh air, already feeling a little better. The chill morning air nipped at her ears and her toes, but she did not care. Finding the small entrance to the woods, she started along the path, opening her arms wide and tipping her face towards the sky, as her sense of freedom grew.
Walking for a while, Eliza found herself considering her situation once more. Instead of ridding her of such thoughts, she found that her walk was forcing the issue back to the forefront of her mind. Lord Penn’s wicked face floated before her eyes, his words causing her to shiver. The thought of handing over the necklace haunted her, knowing the pain and distress it would cause her mother when she discovered it was gone. Eliza hadn’t even considered how she would explain its disappearance, not wishing the blame to fall on an innocent servant. Her inability to share her burden with anyone was causing her great distress, and she struggled to contain the tears that pricked the corners of her eyes.
Anthony could barely believe what he was seeing. Here he was, coming back from his early morning stroll, only to find a woman walking towards him, completely unaware of his presence. She was muttering to herself, the occasional sob escaping from her lips, and Anthony realized she was crying. It was most disconcerting. Anthony watched the surprise cross her face as she spotted him, stopping instantly in her tracks.
Eliza struggled with indecision, hurriedly wiping away her tears. Being alone with a strange man was a situation she had been taught to avoid at all costs, not that she could have taken a chaperone with her on her morning’s outing. The man did not seem in the best temper, staring at her with piercing blue eyes and a shock of black hair falling over his face. Nevertheless, she knew she had permission to wander the grounds, and this man did not seem to be any kind of gentry with his half-open shirt and dirty boots. Squaring her shoulders and making sure her face was dry, Eliza continued on her path, hoping to sidestep the man, but it was not to be.
“Why are you here?” Anthony growled, frustrated with her presence in his woods.
Eliza pushed down her fear. She would not be intimidated. “I am a guest here, at Lady Bessington’s request. We have been given permission to walk the grounds, and I am merely taking advantage of that.”
Anthony raised a brow, aware that her logic was flawless. “You are out very early, my lady, and you are…alone.”
Desperately hoping she was not about to be ravished, Eliza flushed deeply. “I needed some time to think,” she began, stumbling over her words as she took a couple of steps back. “Away from the rest of the guests.”
Anthony shrugged, well able to understand her need for solitude. “Then you must allow me to escort you back to the house. I do not intend to overpower you, My Lady, if that is what you fear.”
Hiding her relief, Eliza stood her ground. “I have no need for an escort. I thank you. I shall return to the house when I choose. I am sure Lord Bessington would not be happy with any servant of his who forced a lady to do something against her will.”
Biting his tongue to demand her return to the house, Anthony found himself in an intriguing position. Clearly, this woman had no idea who he truly was, despite his appearance at dinner the previous evening. Recalling the empty seat, he felt a surge of exhilaration. The chance to get to know what his guests truly thought of him would be an interesting experience, as well as teaching this chit a lesson. Playing the part of a servant, he bowed deferentially, acquiescing to her wishes.
“If you do not wish to return, my lady, then I shall comply. However, these woods are deep and stretch very far. If you do not wish to get completely and utterly lost, then you would be wise to accept my help.”
Eliza thought for a moment, realizing that she had been so caught up in her thoughts that she had not watched her steps. She was unsure of the path to return to the house and certainly did not want to become lost. The stranger was studying her now, which was an uncommon reaction for a servant, Eliza feeling hot under his perusal. Nodding, she accepted his offer, and they fell into step together.
“What is your name?” Eliza asked, keeping her gaze on the path before her.
“Phillip, my lady,” Anthony replied, thinking on his feet and giving her one of his middle names.
“What are you tasked with on the estate?”
“Gardener, ma’am,” Anthony answered, without hesitation.
“I see,” Eliza replied quietly, continuing along her path. Becoming lost in her own thoughts, they walked in silence for a long while, stopping only when Eliza became aware of their surroundings.
“Have we walked far, Phillip?”
Anthony stopped for a moment, studying the trees around them. “Quite far, my lady. The woods can pull you in if you are not careful.”
“Indeed,” Eliza sighed, turning around. “I suppose I should return to the house now.”
“Of course, ma’am.” Allowing Eliza to lead the way, Anthony walked a step or two behind her, directing her path whenever they came to a fork in the trail.
She was a beautiful woman, but something was clearly upsetting her. Not that he wanted to become involved, in any case, but the constant sadness in her eyes unnerved him a little. He wished she would smile, for he thought that it would utterly transform her face. Her blonde hair hung in a long braid down her back, and he was sure she was not wearing a corset. Perhaps her lack of correct dress was down to the fact that she had thought no one would see her on her escapades. Smirking, he wondered how she would feel when she discovered the truth of his identity, whenever he chose to reveal it. That would put the girl in her place.
4
Eliza made her way back to her bedchamber unseen, scampering up the stairs two at a time. She had not been in her room more than five minutes, when there came a knock at the door, and a maid entered with a cup of steaming tea. Thanking her, Eliza sent the maid away and proceeded to drink it gratefully, the hot liquid warming her chilled bones.
That servant, Phillip, had been most presumptuous in his behavior and she was not sure she liked it. Of course, she would never speak to Lord Bessing
ton or his mother about any servant in their employ, unless their behavior became something worthy of dismissal. That being said, she found Phillip very forward, almost forcing her to agree that she would seek him out should she require another walk in the woods the following morning. However, Eliza could not pretend that the man did not have an effect on her, as much as she found him irritating.
He was a tall, strong man, clearly unafraid of hard work. She found herself drawn to his strength. Phillip, being a gardener, did not have to dress as the gentry might, meaning his half open shirt had allowed her to see more of a man than she ever had done before—not that she had looked, of course. She blushed at the thought, her pulse quickening a little. Pausing for a moment, she wondered why her breath had never caught at the sight of Lord Stockton in all his fine attire. John, whilst not a tall man, still had a presence about him, despite his slim build. The gardener had been tall and broad, with an imposing presence, and merely being in his company had made a warm excitement curl in her belly—something that had never occurred with John.
Taking a deep breath, Eliza gave herself a little shake. Now was not the time to be considering such things. She was practically betrothed to John, and she was sure that, were he to wear a shirt similar to the gardener’s, then she would have exactly the same reaction. Nodding to herself, she swept her thoughts to the side and rose to dress correctly, corset and all.
Anthony was back in his study, poring over the latest numbers from his accountant. Things looked to be on the rise, despite his mother’s insistence over the house party that pulled money from his accounts. Sitting back for a few moments, Anthony stretched, glad that his hard work was producing results. If only his morning walk had not been so disturbed.
Anthony frowned, remembering the girl. Discreet inquiries to the butler had acquired him a name, a Miss Elizabeth Williams, older sister to Sophie, whose mother was an old friend of the Lady Bessington's. Apparently, she was expected to announce her betrothal fairly soon to a Lord Stockton.