by Jen Turano
“Eliza didn’t actually say she was bent on revenge,” Zayne said. “If you ask me, I think she was simply speaking out of hurt. Besides, you’re intent on revenge in regard to Eugene Daniels. Does that mean you have no room for love?”
“That’s different. I’m a man.”
“Now you sound like Theodore.”
Hamilton grinned as he shifted his gaze away from his brother and settled it on Eliza, who was still on the dance floor, her partner beaming back at her as if he could not believe his good fortune.
“She’s a remarkable woman, Hamilton. I would hate to see you lose her because your past has clouded your judgment. I have not broached this subject because I didn’t believe you were ready to hear what I needed to say, but I think you need to hear it now. It is time you mended your differences with God. You need His help, and He’ll show you the way,” Zayne said before he clapped Hamilton on the shoulder and then sauntered away, leaving Hamilton to his thoughts.
Was Zayne right? Was he allowing his past to cloud his judgment? He watched Eliza laugh with her dance partner and realized he was behaving like an idiot.
A feeling of remorse swept over him as he recalled his dismal behavior toward Eliza as they’d traveled to the ball. She must think he’d lost his mind, and truth be told, she wouldn’t be far off the mark. He took a deep breath, sent up a quick prayer for guidance, and pushed himself away from the wall, determined to seek her out.
15
Eliza accepted a glass of lemonade she did not particularly want from Mr. Jeffrey Murdock, Mrs. Murdock’s seemingly eligible son, and suppressed a groan when half of the contents sloshed over her hand when Hamilton’s sudden appearance by her side startled her. She sent him what she could only hope was a cool glance before wiping her hand with the handkerchief Mr. Murdock immediately extended to her, and turned her back on Hamilton, summoning up a smile for Mr. Murdock.
“Thank you for fetching me a drink, Mr. Murdock,” she said. “It’s quite warm in here.”
“Perhaps you’re overly warm because you haven’t sat out a single dance,” Hamilton said.
Eliza refused to acknowledge his remark and kept her gaze on Mr. Murdock. “I’ve been delighted over the charming welcome I’ve received tonight.”
“As you are the most beautiful woman to ever grace a New York ball, you should expect nothing less,” Mr. Murdock said.
Eliza resisted the urge to sigh. Although she’d been accustomed to people fawning over her back in England before the scandal, she now found it somewhat uncomfortable. She’d been showered with compliments from every single gentleman she’d danced with this evening, and truth be told, she found it rather embarrassing.
“You are too kind,” she finally managed to say.
“Mr. Beckett,” Mr. Murdock said, turning to address Hamilton, who was in the process of coughing quite loudly into his hand, “may I order you a drink?”
“No need, Mr. Murdock. I’m not particularly thirsty,” Hamilton said.
“My mother has a wonderful tonic for chronic coughs,” Mr. Murdock continued. “You should seek her out so she can fetch it for you.”
“It was only a small tickle,” he proclaimed.
“My sister made mention of the fact that she was hopeful of a dance with you,” Mr. Murdock said, reaching out an arm and snagging a woman who’d been chatting with friends behind them. “Here she is now.”
Eliza was suddenly faced with a woman dressed in the most peculiar outfit she’d ever seen. The gown was cut from yards and yards of billowing yellow fabric and trimmed with garish green ribbons, which did little to complement the woman’s light complexion. Mr. Murdock’s sister had, for some odd reason, scraped her white-blond hair back in a severe chignon, but after a brief moment of closer perusal, Eliza found herself surprised. The lady’s features were delicate and unusual, and Eliza couldn’t help but wonder why the lady would go to such an obvious effort to divert attention from her unique looks. Before she could contemplate the matter further, the lady blinked at everyone and then sent her brother a glare.
“Did you need something, Jeffrey?” the woman asked.
“Felicia, here is Mr. Beckett. You do still have open spots on your dance card, don’t you?” Mr. Murdock asked.
Felicia’s face turned bright red. “I do. Thank you for bringing that to everyone’s attention,” she said between clenched teeth.
Eliza immediately took pity on the woman. “I don’t believe we have been introduced. I’m Lady Eliza Sumner and you must be Mr. Murdock’s sister.”
“Unfortunately,” Felicia muttered before dipping a curtsy in Eliza’s direction. “It’s very nice to meet you, Lady Eliza. I’m Miss Felicia Murdock.”
“Miss Murdock,” Eliza returned, dipping into a curtsy of her own.
Hamilton stepped forward, smiled, and bent over Felicia’s hand. “I would consider it a great honor if you would take a turn around the dance floor with me. I have not yet had the pleasure of a dance this evening.”
Felicia turned an even darker shade of red, but accepted Hamilton’s arm, allowing him to guide her away to the dance floor.
Although Eliza was still angry with Hamilton, seeing as he’d been scowling at her all evening, his kindness to Felicia had the beginnings of a smile tugging her lips.
“I must tell you, Felicia will be over the moon about dancing with Mr. Beckett. She and her friends spend hours talking about him and his brother,” Mr. Murdock said.
Eliza’s smile slid off her face. “Is Mr. Beckett much sought after?”
“Indeed, there’s not an unmarried lady here who doesn’t secretly hope to form an attachment with him, but enough about Mr. Beckett. I believe the next dance is about to begin, and you did promise it to me.”
Eliza handed her glass to a passing servant and accepted Mr. Murdock’s arm, walking with him to the dance floor. Hamilton and Felicia were already in place, and Eliza’s eyes lingered on Hamilton while she waited for the music to begin. Although he was giving Felicia the proper amount of attention, Eliza was certain he was also keeping an eye on her. It was rather odd, this sudden change in temperament. Where was the sullen man from the beginning of the evening?
When the dance ended, Mr. Murdock attempted to steer her toward a large double door, which more than likely led to a terrace. As Eliza had no intention of spending a moment alone with the gentleman and possessed more than enough experience deflecting just such situations, she discreetly put pressure on his arm, forcing his direction to change. She breathed a silent sigh of relief when Hamilton stepped in front of them.
“I believe dinner is about to be served,” Hamilton said, his eyes glinting somewhat dangerously at Mr. Murdock.
“Lady Eliza is to join my family at the main table,” Mr. Murdock said, his eyes glinting right back at Hamilton.
“I know,” Hamilton said with a smile. “My mother, brother, Miss Watson, and I are to join you. Your mother arranged it.”
Eliza found her arms taken in strong grips, one by Hamilton and one by Mr. Murdock. She was marched rather clumsily into the room set up for dining and could only hope she would arrive in one piece, as both men seemed intent on hurrying her along. For what purpose, she had no idea, but her sense of humor kicked in and by the time they reached the table, she was grinning.
“Sit here,” Mr. Murdock said as he dropped her arm and pulled out a chair.
“I think you’ll be more comfortable here,” Hamilton argued, spinning her into a seat right next to Gloria and sitting down in the empty chair beside her.
What was wrong with the man? He was very nearly being rude to poor Mr. Murdock, who, Eliza noticed, was glaring openly at Hamilton but quickly recovered his amiable demeanor when Agatha sidled up to the table.
“Is there room for me?” Agatha asked.
“Of course,” Mr. Murdock said. “I would love nothing more than to share your company over dinner.”
Eliza watched Agatha send Mr. Murdock a pretty smile that prompted Zayn
e to release a huff of annoyance on the other side of Gloria.
“Have you been having fun, Eliza?” Gloria asked.
“She’s danced every dance,” Hamilton said before Eliza could respond.
“How wonderful,” Gloria exclaimed. “See, I told you there was no reason for your earlier distress.”
“You were distressed?” Mr. Murdock inquired as he leaned forward over Agatha.
“It was only a little case of nerves,” Eliza returned, her eyes widening when Hamilton absently traced a finger down her arm.
The action was not lost on Mr. Murdock. He sat back in his seat and turned his head to address the guest on his left.
“What are you doing?” Eliza hissed. “If you’re not careful, everyone will believe there’s soon to be an announcement.”
“That would bother you?”
And just what did he mean by that? She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “You’ve obviously lost your mind.”
Hamilton sent her a wicked smile and refused to say another word, although he did remove his finger from her skin.
The next ten minutes were spent greeting other guests, and all was going well until a loud gasp sounded from the other side of the table. Eliza looked up and could not quite stifle a groan. It was Mrs. Amherst, the woman Eliza had spoken with at the Watsons’ dinner party.
A sense of déjà vu descended.
“Is that you, Miss Sumner?” Mrs. Amherst questioned.
“Why, Mrs. Amherst,” Eliza replied with an attempt at a smile, “how lovely to see you again.”
Mrs. Amherst arched a brow. “I must say you’ve improved your appearance remarkably, my dear. But tell me, is it becoming the fashion to include governesses in all society events?”
Eliza was spared a response when Mrs. Murdock leaned forward in her seat and gave a tittering laugh. “I’m afraid you’ve gotten Lady Eliza confused with someone else, Mrs. Amherst.”
“Lady Eliza?” Mrs. Amherst questioned.
“I told you a member of the aristocracy was attending tonight,” Mrs. Murdock said.
“Perhaps someone would be so kind as to explain to me why, when I met this woman a few weeks ago, she was a mere governess pressed into service because of some dire illness Miss Watson had developed.” Mrs. Amherst’s eyes suddenly narrowed as she set her sights on Agatha. “You seem to have made a remarkable recovery.”
Agatha blinked and then smiled. “Yes, thank you for noticing, Mrs. Amherst. I do so appreciate your concern.”
“Why is your governess portraying herself as a lady?”
Silence settled over the table.
Agatha straightened in her chair. “I’m afraid the tale is less than dramatic.”
“Do tell,” Mrs. Amherst encouraged.
Agatha sent Eliza a look that clearly stated she needed assistance. Eliza cleared her throat.
“Agatha and I are good friends,” she began, her mind whirling with some sort of plausible explanation that wouldn’t be an outright lie. Before she could come up with anything else, Agatha interrupted.
“That’s right. Lady Eliza and I are good friends.”
“I’m afraid that doesn’t explain why she was passing herself off as a governess,” Mrs. Amherst said.
“Ahh, you see,” Agatha began, “Lady Eliza didn’t want anyone to know her true identity.”
“Why would you want to disguise your identity?” Mrs. Amherst asked, turning to Eliza.
“Hmm . . .” Eliza said. “I didn’t care to bring attention to myself?”
“Exactly right,” Agatha said with a nod.
“And you and your parents were fine with her charade?” Mrs. Amherst asked, swirling her head back to look at Agatha.
“I was perfectly fine with it,” Agatha replied.
“But how did the two of you become such fast friends?” Mrs. Amherst asked. “Was it through correspondence?”
“W-well . . .” Agatha stuttered.
“I have always believed corresponding with a person from another country improves one’s education,” Gloria said, smoothly insinuating herself into the conversation. “Why, I used to correspond regularly with a woman from France, and it helped my written French tremendously.”
Mrs. Amherst ignored Gloria’s statement, her eyes darting between Agatha and Eliza. “But, why did you, Lady Eliza, attend the Watsons’ dinner party as a governess and yet you’re attending this party as an aristocrat?”
Hamilton stopped Eliza from answering by placing a hand on her leg under the table. She almost jumped out of her seat at his forwardness, but when his hand tightened on her leg, she settled for sending him a frown and waited to hear what he was going to say.
“Lady Eliza was not supposed to attend that party, Mrs. Amherst, as you very well know, until Miss Watson became indisposed. From what I understand, there was no time for Lady Eliza to properly dress, so it was decided she would keep her identity secret and attend the dinner as the governess,” Hamilton said.
“I find it difficult to believe Mr. Watson was agreeable to this plan,” Mrs. Amherst said.
“Father has a wonderful sense of humor,” Agatha said weakly.
“Does he?” Mrs. Amherst asked before she set her sights on Eliza. “I thought I heard you were currently staying with Mrs. Beckett.”
Eliza took a sip of water, wondering how to explain that part of the story, but was spared a reply when Gloria threw herself back into the conversation.
“Lady Eliza is indeed staying with me,” Gloria said. “Her mother and I, Lady, err . . .”
“Sefton,” Eliza supplied under her breath.
“Lady Sefton and I were always meant to be good friends, but alas, our friendship never had time to fully develop because Lady Eliza’s dear mother, ahh . . .”
“Alice,” Eliza whispered.
“Dear mother Alice passed away,” Gloria finished with a pleasant smile.
“You lost your mother?” Mrs. Murdock exclaimed. “How horrible for you. May I presume your father is still with us?”
“I’m afraid he died over a year ago.”
“Good heavens, I can certainly see why you felt the need to travel to America. You needed a distraction,” Mrs. Murdock said, sending a frown in Mrs. Amherst’s direction.
Mrs. Amherst pretended not to notice the frown and leaned forward. “I distinctly remember you telling me you were not familiar with Lord and Lady Southmoor.”
“I’m not overly familiar with them,” Eliza said slowly.
“How very odd,” Mrs. Amherst mused. “From the few conversations I’ve enjoyed with the countess, it appeared to me as if she knew every high society family in England, and I distinctly remember her mentioning a Lady Alice Sefton, as I believe I mentioned to you the last time we spoke.”
“Did you?” Eliza asked.
“You don’t remember the countess ever visiting with your mother?”
“She might have done so at some point in time, but as I said, I’m not overly familiar with the lady.”
Thankfully, Mrs. Amherst was distracted from the conversation when another guest demanded her attention, and Eliza was free to breathe a sigh of relief.
“What an interesting ball,” Agatha said.
“For a woman who claims a deep, abiding faith, you’re remarkably proficient at spinning false tales,” Eliza said, her voice a mere whisper.
Agatha rolled her eyes. “I didn’t lie. I simply neglected to add details, and it was Gloria who led the conversation away from the correspondent part. Quite honestly, I don’t believe God will think ill of me for being somewhat vague regarding your situation. I couldn’t very well let you sit there and take the brunt of Mrs. Amherst’s questions. We’re friends, and friends look out for one another.”
Warmth spread through Eliza at Agatha’s words. It had been so long since she’d been able to claim a friend that she couldn’t help the tears that suddenly welled in her eyes. She was grateful when Mr. Murdock stood and asked everyone to join in the bl
essing because it allowed her to drop her gaze and hide her emotions from the rest of the table.
A soft squeeze on her arm made her realize Hamilton was aware of her distress. His small act of reassurance caused the last of her annoyance with him to fade to nothing. She sent him a smile and then looked down at her plate before closing her eyes and focusing on the blessing Mr. Murdock was saying. She whispered a soft “amen” when he finished and lifted her head, relieved when Gloria began telling an amusing tale regarding Piper and Ben, which diverted attention away from her.
Dinner passed quickly and before Eliza knew it, servants were whisking the plates off the table and Mrs. Murdock was encouraging everyone to return to the ballroom. She found her arm taken in Hamilton’s firm grip as he lifted her from her seat and maneuvered her past countless gentlemen with whom she’d agreed to dance. Apparently Hamilton wasn’t going to allow her the opportunity to see her promises through to fruition. He brought them to a halt on the farthest recesses of the dance floor and grinned down at her.
“You do realize this dance is promised to someone else,” Eliza said even as she felt a traitorous tremor run over her when he pulled her into his arms. “You’re not even on my dance card.”
“That’s why I’ve been forced to take such drastic measures.”
“You’re insane.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed cheerfully before twirling her around as the music began.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked after she caught her breath.
He pulled her closer to him and caught her gaze, never missing a single step. “I must apologize for my earlier behavior. You did nothing to deserve it, and I’m trying to make it up to you.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“Is it working?” Hamilton countered.
Eliza thought it might very well be working, whatever it was he was attempting to do. Her pulse was pounding in her veins, and she felt rather light-headed at his nearness. She’d wondered more than once this evening how it would feel to dance with Hamilton, and now she knew.
It was lovely; there was no other way to describe it.