An Heiress at Heart

by Jennifer Delamere

  Her musings were interrupted by Geoffrey. “Are you feeling better now, Ria?”

  She nodded. “I can breathe again.”

  “Was Hightower being too forward with you? Did his attentions upset you?”

  Yes! Freddie may yet destroy my life, after I thought I was free of him.

  She could not say this, of course. “Don’t trouble yourself on his account,” she said. “The whole evening was… rather taxing, that’s all.” It was a woefully inadequate description, but she wanted to assuage his concerns.

  He did not look convinced. “I hope you will stay clear of Hightower in the future. Do not cultivate his acquaintance.”

  “Can we please not discuss Mr. Hightower?” she said sharply. Her frazzled nerves could not take much more.

  “I will happily comply with that request,” Geoffrey said. “But you were enjoying yourself earlier in the evening, I’m sure of it.” He gave her a self-effacing smile. “Was it my dancing that did you in?”

  This unexpected pleasantry warmed Lizzie’s heart. “Honestly, Geoffrey. I believe you have spent too much time with James.”

  “The man can wear off on people, I suppose,” he replied.

  “Actually,” Lizzie said, “I was surprised at how well you dance. I was not expecting that at all.”

  “It has been a night of surprises, I think.” Something in the way he said this sounded quite different. Wistful, almost.

  “Yes, it has,” Lizzie agreed. She wondered what about the evening had surprised him.

  “I suppose Edward never mentioned that we were all three raised with rigorous lessons in dancing and etiquette. Of course, I was not called upon to use those skills very much. At least, not until recently.”

  Lizzie saw him tense as he said this, and she knew it was a reference to the loss of his brothers. Her heart did a strange, painful flip in her chest. “You acquitted yourself very well,” she said quietly.

  He gave her a brief, grateful smile. “Ria, I’d like to ask you something, and I hope you do not think me too forward or impertinent. I’d like to—” He interrupted himself with a grimace. “You can tell me if I’ve no right to ask this question.”

  This unexpected change of tack left her with some trepidation, but she said, “Of course. You may ask me anything.”

  “I want to know—that is, I was wondering—what made you fall in love with Edward? How did you know he was the one?”

  The question took Lizzie utterly by surprise. She stared at him, openmouthed.

  Still apologetic, Geoffrey continued, “You are no doubt surprised to hear this question coming from me. It’s just that with all the talk of marriages this evening, I realized that, well, you and Edward clearly found something, and for the first time in my life I truly want to know what that is.”

  He looked so vulnerable just then, his face displaying the very same need that Lizzie felt within her soul, the desperate need for someone to confide in. She wished she could delve into this man’s heart, return the joy to his face that she’d seen when they’d danced, erase the pain that overtook him whenever they spoke of the past. Above all, she wished she could answer his question. How did you know he was the one? She could only repeat the words Ria had used when she had tried to explain it to Lizzie.

  “Oh, Geoffrey,” she sighed. “It began with William, of course. I did think I loved him at first. You see, I was very young, and he had all that lordly swagger, and I was swept away with the idea of marrying a man with a title. But then, as I began to know Edward, he kept pressing me, asking me did I really love William, and did William really love me. I was indignant, of course. But when I put the question to William, he answered nonchalantly that he was naturally very fond of me and that I was suitable enough for a wife. I challenged him and said, can you expect me to pledge heart and soul to someone who thinks I am merely suitable?”

  A few weeks ago, Lizzie thought, her words might have stirred up a lecture from Geoffrey on the importance of doing one’s duty. But something had changed; she could sense it. Tonight she had touched quite a different nerve.

  “You were right in what you told William,” he said. “I certainly would not wish that for anyone.”

  The carriage came to a stop. The lights from the mansion shone through the carriage window, illuminating his face. Geoffrey leaned forward and took one of her hands in his. The carriage seemed unaccountably small. Lizzie could not speak, could not think of anything beyond his touch, the solid breadth of him so near her. “I can see now that Edward was truly the wiser of the two.” His voice was low, and rough with emotion.

  He drew her hand closer to him, and kissed it.

  All sound and motion faded to a breathless hush. As Geoffrey’s lips brushed Lizzie’s thin gloves, she recalled Mrs. Paddington’s words: “What a pity she cannot marry Lord Somerville…”

  What would it be like to be married to this man? How dearly she would love to know.

  She reached out with her free hand and gently caressed his hair. He leaned his head into her touch as though seeking more of it.

  If only we could stay here forever, she thought. If only this moment could withstand everything that has happened and all that will inevitably come.

  The footman opened the door, and the cool night air rushed into the carriage. Startled, Lizzie drew back. Geoffrey straightened and dropped her hand. She was sure the footman had seen their closeness and their guilt, but he was too well trained to let on. He averted his gaze and stood back, allowing them room to exit.

  Geoffrey stepped down to the street and turned to reach up for Lizzie’s hand. Although the mask of propriety had fallen back into place, Geoffrey’s touch still did unimaginable things, sending a vibrant rush of desire through every part of Lizzie’s being.

  He brought her up the steps and into the main hall. Lizzie’s head and heart were bursting with all the things she could not say. She murmured, “Thank you for bringing me home.”

  “It was my pleasure.” They were simple words, but Lizzie saw their meaning. “Ria…” He was looking at her with such intense warmth that Lizzie found it difficult to breathe.

  “Yes?”

  But their solitude was gone. Whatever might have been said in the coach, when their hearts had connected so perfectly, could not be spoken here, in a well-lighted entry hall before the servants. He gave her a small smile. “Good night.”

  As Lizzie watched the door close behind him, she knew beyond a doubt that she was in love with this man. The knowledge weighed heavily on her, for it only made the decisions before her so much harder.

  She made her way up to her room, her heart tossed by wave after wave of contradictory emotions as she considered the terrible choices before her, and where they might lead. She could keep pretending to be Ria, hoping to withstand Freddie’s suspicions and questioning. But he would be an ever-present threat, a cloud ready to break open a torrent of misery. If by some miracle she maintained her ruse, she would never be able to reveal her true self to Geoffrey. There would forever be this one last barrier between them. When she had cast herself into the role of Ria, she never dreamed her heart might dare to open again… to the one man who was now denied her.

  If Freddie had his way, he would once again ruin her life by his hateful actions. Even worse, Geoffrey’s discovery of the truth would come at Freddie’s doing, and not by her own admission. This left her with a second terrible choice: to reveal herself before Freddie could do it. That would surely mean losing Geoffrey, for he would learn not only that she had been lying to him, but that she was covering up a disgraceful past as well. She had Geoffrey’s esteem now, and his friendship; he was beginning to care for her deeply. All those things would vanish once he knew the truth. Of all the dire consequences that threatened her, this was the worst.

  She was gloomily pondering these things as Martha helped her undress and prepare for bed. “I’ll bet you were the loveliest lady there tonight,” Martha said as she took down Lizzie’s hair and began brushing
out the curls. “I’ll bet you were the grandest success at the ball.”

  “Was I? I don’t know.” She truly was Cinderella, she thought bitterly. Her life was returning to ashes.

  “Come now, it’s not like you to be so modest,” Martha said with a chiding grin.

  She met Martha’s eyes in the mirror. “I’m afraid, Martha. Afraid of disappointing everyone.”

  “Why, bless me. I never know’d my Ria to be afraid of anything.”

  “Never?”

  “Just look at all the things you’ve done. Didn’t you go all the way to the other side of the world, and bring yourself back again? Not many women have that kind of courage.”

  All the way to the other side of the world. And back again. What good had she gained from either journey? She’d tried to leave her old life behind, only to be brought face-to-face with it again. There was no distance large enough to separate her from her lies.

  This led her to the terrible realization of what she must do. She must confess everything. Until she did, she would live in terror of Freddie and in agony over what she had done.

  But first, she would get to Rosewood and find the letters that proved who she really was. Thus armed, she would go directly to Lady Thornborough, tell her about the plan she and Ria had devised, and throw herself on the old woman’s mercy. She would make sure that Lady Thornborough knew, first and foremost, that Lizzie was her granddaughter. Lizzie clung to the hope that this would give her something to stand on, even after Lady Thornborough discovered she was also Freddie’s castoff paramour. Freddie may have changed her plans, but Lizzie would do all she could to ensure that he would never again have the upper hand. Lizzie would reveal herself on her own terms.

  Geoffrey would hate her for what she had done, but he would not be able to deny that she had done the right thing by becoming utterly truthful. If she could gain even the smallest measure of his respect for that, she would gladly face whatever else should come.

  Chapter 23

  Aunt, you are giving a dinner party next week, are you not?” James looked over the sandwiches on the tea tray while he awaited Lady Thornborough’s answer.

  “I am. And you cannot back out this time. I promised Lady Shaw you would be there.”

  James turned his eyes heavenward and said, “Please do not tell me that she will have her daughter in tow.”

  “For some reason I cannot fathom, Miss Shaw has taken a fancy to you. Even more wondrously, her parents do not object.”

  James sighed theatrically. “Miss Shaw is unforgivably bland and dull and—”

  “And she has a very large dowry,” Lady Thornborough interrupted. “She has good breeding and all the right connections. You must start thinking seriously of settling down, James. You cannot live your whole life between here and the club.”

  James did his best to look contrite. “Very well, Aunt. I shall do my utmost to entertain Miss Shaw. I merely meant to enquire whether you might invite Mr. Freddie Hightower to the dinner.”

  Lizzie’s teacup paused halfway to her lips. Her mood was dark, despite the sunlight pouring through the parlor windows. The course of action she’d decided on last night seemed utterly impossible today. Here was the first proof of it. She had planned to avoid Freddie as much as she could—but he would push just as hard to get into her presence.

  “Why would I invite Mr. Hightower?” Lady Thornborough asked.

  “Because he wants to know Ria better.”

  “Me?” Lizzie did her best to act surprised.

  “He has taken an enormous interest in you. In fact, after you left last night, he questioned me about you in such detail that—forgive me, dear cousin—I grew deadly bored with the subject.”

  Lady Thornborough’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, he questioned you in detail?”

  James shrugged. “He wanted to know the precise date Ria and Edward eloped and how long she’s been away.” His eyes shone with merriment. “He even asked if I was certain you had really been to Australia!”

  “Indeed?” Lizzie did her best to look as though she was as amused as James. “And how did you respond?”

  “I told him you declared yourself to have been in Australia, and we have every reason to believe you.” He dropped another sugar cube into his tea. “However, I did ask myself why he should concern himself so closely with your history. There is only one answer, of course.”

  “And what, pray tell, would that be?” Lady Thornborough asked.

  “Why, he plans to court Ria, of course.”

  Lizzie set down her cup with shaking hands. Courting was far too polite a term for what Freddie planned to do. Courting was something Geoffrey might do, she thought, as he had in that extraordinary moment when he had kissed her hand. What woman could resist such a powerful combination of ardor and respect? Lizzie had no doubts that Freddie had something quite different in mind. Freddie was going to court her the way a cat courts a mouse.

  She had no need to voice an objection, however. Lady Thornborough was already doing it. “Mr. Hightower is a dissolute young man, even if he is a widower. How can you think Ria would return his interest?”

  “I believe he has changed,” James said. “He wants to put some of the more unsavory things of his past behind him. He told me he is ready to settle down, and he needs a good wife.”

  “I would not be a good wife for him,” Lizzie said flatly. Her words drew a quizzical look from James.

  “The greater question,” Lady Thornborough said crisply, “is whether he would be a proper husband for Ria.”

  “You mean, does he meet the stated criteria? Let’s see…” James lifted up a hand to tick off points on his fingers. “He has good breeding, he’s well connected, and he’s rich.” He grinned as he repeated his aunt’s words back to her.

  But Lady Thornborough was not about to be cornered by her own argument. “James, even you cannot honestly be so flippant about a man who has been accused of murdering his own wife.”

  “He was never officially charged with anything,” James pointed out. “It was only gossip and speculation, and you know how vicious the rumor mill can be. He has proven his innocence to the authorities. Shouldn’t we therefore give him the benefit of the doubt?”

  James spoke earnestly, and his argument seemed to be having an effect. A tiny hint of uncertainty flickered in Lady Thornborough’s face. Lizzie wished James was not quite so adept at winning over his aunt.

  Lady Thornborough rose from her chair. “Very well, I will invite him to dinner.”

  James hastily stood up also. “Thank you, Aunt.”

  Lady Thornborough paused at the door. “But I will be keeping a close eye on him. And you. See that you give Miss Shaw the attention she deserves.”

  Lady Thornborough swept from the room, and James smiled at Lizzie as he dropped back into his chair. “With you and Freddie for company, I shall at least manage to survive the dinner, even if I do have to entertain Miss Shaw.”

  Lizzie stirred more sugar into her tea, primarily to give herself something to do and cover her agitation. Freddie had taken advantage of James’s good nature and had used it to gain his own ends. “If you think Mr. Hightower is such a good match for me, I need to know more about him. How long have you known him?”

  James looked at her in surprise. “We met years ago, at school. Surely you remember me talking about him?”

  Lizzie and Ria had discussed Freddie, of course, but the name had meant nothing to Ria. Lizzie raised a hand in a gesture of pretended exasperation. “Really, James, you have so many acquaintances. How can I be expected to keep track of them all?”

  James laughed in amusement. “I cannot be faulted for having too many friends. Therefore, I blame this lapse on your flighty memory.”

  “Geoffrey told me Mr. Hightower spent time in Europe before his marriage, and that he took a woman with him.”

  “The effrontery,” James said with mock severity. “I’m sure the Reverend Lord Somerville did not approve of that.”
>
  “No one did,” Lizzie replied. On that point, she was dead certain.

  To her surprise, James nodded in agreement. “To be honest, I felt that taking the woman to Europe was a terrible lapse in judgment, and I told him so at the time. But he could not be dissuaded. He told me he was in love.” James put a hand over his heart to emphasize the words.

  “Did he?” Lizzie was astonished. “Do you think he truly was in love?”

  “I have no doubt that he fancied himself so. However, he returned to England in the end.”

  When his mother informed him she would cut him off unless he married Helena and her millions, Lizzie thought darkly.

  James looked at her quizzically. “Are you upset about something?”

  Lizzie realized too late that she had been letting her anger show. She scrunched her face, as she had often seen Ria do when perturbed. If Freddie thought he was the only one skilled at deception, he was very wrong. “I’ve been thinking that Mr. Hightower seems rather too fond of dancing. I do hope there will not be dancing at Grandmamma’s party. I always trip, and then how shall I make a good impression?”

  James laughed. “Do not be uneasy about that, cousin. You already have.”

  *

  Miss Lucinda Cardington was blushing. Her face was such a bright beet red that Geoffrey was beginning to fear for her health.

  Their discussion of his work with the Society for Improving the Condition of the Labouring Classes touched upon nothing that should have brought on such a strong reaction. Had it been his mention of working with Prince Albert? Some people were so taken with the importance of royalty that the thought of personal interaction with a prince could send them into raptures. But Geoffrey thought Miss Cardington was unlikely to indulge in such silliness.