by Jen Turano
Their steps were perfectly matched, and she’d never had a partner who suited her better.
That had her stumbling.
“Are you all right?” Hamilton asked as he steadied her.
Before she could reply, the music came to an end, but instead of returning her to the group of gentlemen waiting on the edge of the dance floor, he sent her a slightly mischievous smile and pulled her beside him in the opposite direction and right through a door. She found herself standing on a charming patio as a brisk breeze hit her square in the face.
“Why did you bring me out here?” Eliza asked, unable to suppress a shiver as another gust of wind swept over her.
“I needed to speak with you, and I knew no one would be out here, seeing as how the night has turned a bit brisk,” he said, shrugging out of his coat and placing it around her shoulders.
Wonderful warmth enveloped her, and she resisted the urge to sigh in delight. “What did you need to say?”
“I wanted to apologize properly for my earlier behavior. I was incredibly surly with you.”
“There’s no need to apologize again, Hamilton. I readily admit to fits of sullenness at times, and I certainly wasn’t crushed by your behavior.”
“Fits of sullenness?”
“It happens,” Eliza admitted. “I’m afraid an uneven temperament comes with my red hair.”
“You do have a temper,” Hamilton mused.
“Yes, well, back to you,” Eliza said with a roll of her eyes, “why were you in such a dismal mood?”
“I’m afraid I was allowing my past to once again get in the way of my future.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I was comparing you with Mary Ellen.” Hamilton reached out and took hold of Eliza’s hand, causing her to draw in a sharp breath before he continued. “You must realize I’ve developed feelings for you.”
“What kind of feelings?” Eliza asked warily.
“I’ve been considering our future.”
Panic swept over Eliza. She wasn’t prepared to discuss feelings or a future with him. “Hamilton, I don’t think this is the proper time for this. Besides, you know I have to return to England.”
“You don’t have to do anything of the sort,” Hamilton argued.
“What exactly are you suggesting?”
“I thought, given the fact that you get along so well with my children, you might consider the idea of becoming a mother to them.”
Eliza blinked as her temper flared. It seemed as if he might be suggesting marriage to her, but only because he needed a mother for his children. Good heavens, it was Lawrence all over again. He’d wanted to marry her because of her fortune. Could she ever just encounter a man who wanted to become close to her because he was swept away by his feelings for her?
“May I assume you’re attempting to propose to me?” she asked, resisting the urge to throttle the man on the spot.
“I suppose I’m making a bit of a mess of this, aren’t I?” Hamilton asked, having the audacity to send her one of his charming smiles.
She tilted her chin. “A mess is putting it mildly.”
Hamilton frowned. “Have I said something to upset you?”
“What could you possibly have said to upset me?” Eliza asked as she tapped her finger on her chin. “Oh yes, now I remember. You issued me a proposal of marriage, I think, based on the assumption I would be a suitable mother figure. I have no idea why that would upset me.”
“Perhaps I was not very clear,” Hamilton said. “You must realize I hold you in high esteem.”
“Do you?”
“Of course, why else would I ask you to marry me?”
“See, that does seem to be an issue here. You did not actually ask me to marry you. You simply threw it into the conversation.”
“That’s a little harsh. Granted, I wasn’t as eloquent as I intended, but . . .”
Eliza didn’t hear the rest of Hamilton’s words because the door to the patio burst open, and Agatha barreled through it, skidding to a halt when she caught sight of them.
“I do so hate to interrupt, but we have a bit of a situation,” she said, panting as if she’d run a far distance. She moved to Eliza’s side, took her by the arm, and began pulling her toward the door. “We have to get you out of here immediately.”
16
Eliza tried to shake off Agatha’s hand, but found she wasn’t up for the task. Agatha had a death grip on her, and only Hamilton’s stepping in front of them and blocking their path stopped Agatha in her tracks.
“What’s happened?” Hamilton asked.
“I don’t have time to explain,” Agatha retorted. “In fact, what was I thinking? Eliza can’t go back through the ballroom.” She swiveled her head and looked around. “There, see that wall over there? You’ll have to climb over it, and I’ll have the carriage brought around to pick you up.”
“I’m not scaling a wall dressed in a formal gown,” Eliza sputtered.
“You can’t go back through the house,” Agatha said.
“Why?” Eliza asked.
“Because the lead actress at the New York Theater developed a stomach ailment and was unable to finish the play,” Agatha said.
“How could that possibly affect me?” Eliza asked.
“The play was cut short,” Agatha replied before pointing off in the distance. “There’s a handy tree over there. You should be able to climb it and slip over the wall without too much damage to your gown.”
“Agatha, you’re not explaining very well,” Hamilton said. “Calm down and tell us in explicit detail what’s wrong.”
“I already told you, the play was cut short, and because of that, Lord and Lady Southmoor are here.”
“Mr. Hayes is here?” Eliza asked.
“It gets so confusing, this Lord Southmoor, Mr. Hayes business. Can’t we just agree to call him Lord Southmoor to make things easier?” Agatha asked.
“Certainly not, the man’s a fraud. His title is a clever bit of fiction,” Eliza said.
“But you know who I’m talking about.”
Eliza folded her arms over her chest.
“Fine, Mr. Hayes, then. I think he’s here,” Agatha said. “I can’t be sure, though, because I’ve only seen Lady, umm, Mrs. Hayes, but I would have to assume Mr. Hayes is here if she’s in attendance.”
“You truly believe, because they’re here, I should leap over that wall and slink away into the night?” Eliza asked as she slipped out of Hamilton’s coat and lifted her chin. “I will not disappear as if I have done something wrong.” She handed the coat to Hamilton.
“What do you intend to do?” Agatha asked slowly.
“I have no idea, but I won’t give them the satisfaction of learning I’ve fled.”
“They don’t know you’re here,” Agatha pointed out.
“You think Mrs. Amherst will keep that to herself? Please, I bet she’ll make a beeline for Sally the moment she becomes aware of her presence.”
“Sally’s really Mrs. Hayes, right?” Agatha questioned.
“Yes.”
“I told you it was getting confusing,” Agatha grouched.
Eliza squared her shoulders and moved around Hamilton to gain access to the door.
“Eliza, wait, you could be jeopardizing everything,” Agatha said.
“I don’t care. I won’t run; they’re the criminals, not I. Besides, it’s not as if I’m going to go looking for them. I’m simply going to locate Mrs. Murdock and apologize for leaving her ball early.”
“You’re not intending on seeking out Bartholomew and Sally?” Hamilton asked.
“I don’t think that would be prudent at the moment, as I’m quite certain I might be prompted to do them physical harm,” Eliza said.
“Perhaps you really should consider going over the wall,” Agatha suggested, a trace of panic in her voice.
Eliza pretended not to hear Agatha as she turned on her heel and marched determinedly to the door, ignoring the worried looks Hamilton a
nd Agatha exchanged. She stalked into the house and paused on the edge of the dance floor when she noticed Gloria hurrying toward her, Zayne only a step behind. She craned her neck to look past them and a wave of relief swept through her. There was no sign of Bartholomew or Sally.
“Did you hear?” Gloria whispered, stopping by Eliza’s side.
“I did.”
“We must leave immediately,” Gloria said.
“We must first speak with Mrs. Murdock,” Eliza argued. “It would be beyond rude if we simply vanished from her ball.”
“Good heavens, child, if there was ever a time to abandon good manners, this would be it.”
“There you are,” a voice exclaimed from behind them. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”
Eliza turned to find Mrs. Amherst standing a few feet away, a wide smile on her face.
“I have the most delightful news,” Mrs. Amherst continued. “Lady Southmoor is here, and I want to surprise her with you.”
“Like a present?” Eliza muttered under her breath as a grin stole over her face at the thought of how Sally would react to being presented with her.
Mrs. Amherst’s smile faltered. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Amherst,” Hamilton said as he stepped forward to take Eliza’s arm, “but I’m afraid Lady Eliza won’t be able to speak with Lady Southmoor at the moment. We’re on our way home as my mother isn’t feeling well.”
“Your mother appears perfectly fine to me.”
Gloria shot Hamilton an exasperated look before turning her attention to Mrs. Amherst. “I’ve developed a bit of a stomach upset.”
“Oh?”
“It must have been the fish.”
“We were not served fish.”
“Perhaps it was the quail.”
“Agatha,” another voice called before Mrs. Amherst was able to retort.
“It’s my mother,” Agatha mumbled.
Eliza found she was rooted to the spot. Walking toward her was none other than Sally Hayes, spectacularly dressed in a gown of silk with delicate, obviously expensive, lace edging the sleeves and neckline. Sally was holding Mrs. Watson’s arm, smiling and nodding regally at guests as she drew ever closer. Her smile faded and her steps faltered when she glanced at Eliza, and then she froze completely when recognition obviously set in.
“Lady Eliza,” she gasped.
“Sally,” Eliza replied coldly.
“My goodness,” Mrs. Amherst exclaimed, “what an informal manner you have of addressing the countess, Lady Eliza. I thought you said you were not intimately known to Lady Southmoor.”
“We are not what anyone would consider close friends. In fact, I have not actually spoken with Sally since I left the schoolroom,” Eliza bit out, feeling a small sliver of satisfaction when Sally flushed at the veiled reminder she’d once been Eliza’s governess.
“What a surprise to find you in New York,” Sally said, her voice unnaturally high.
“I’m certain it’s quite a surprise, Sally,” Eliza said, drawing out her name to draw more attention to the fact that she was deliberately baiting the woman. “Where is your delightful husband?”
Sally didn’t respond as her hand moved nervously to her neck. Rage swept over Eliza when she recognized her mother’s necklace encircling Sally’s neck.
“What a pretty necklace,” Eliza managed to get out. “Is it a family heirloom?”
“Not at all,” Sally replied, her face blanching and her voice turning shrill. “Lord Southmoor bought it for me here in New York.”
“Oh? How odd. I could swear I’ve seen that necklace worn about England. In fact, if memory serves me correctly, I last saw it on my eighteenth birthday ball. I believe it was worn along with a lovely white gown trimmed in periwinkle blue.”
“I’ve never worn a white gown trimmed in periwinkle blue,” Sally said, her face now an unusual shade of pink.
“Why does everyone keep calling Miss Sumner Lady Eliza?” Mrs. Watson suddenly asked.
“Oh, Mother,” Agatha said quickly before anyone else could speak, “Lady Eliza has abandoned her desire to remain unnoticed. We don’t have to address her anymore as Miss Sumner. Our little ruse has come out into the open.”
“Ruse?” Mr. Watson questioned as he joined them. “What’s this about a ruse and . . . what is she doing here?”
“Mr. Watson, there’s no need to continue with your false outrage,” Mrs. Amherst tittered. “We heard all about the charade, and I must tell you, sir, I was delighted to hear you have such a wicked sense of humor. It was brilliant to allow Lady Eliza to disguise herself as a governess, so very understanding of you to sympathize with her desire to remain inconspicuous.”
“Inconspicuous?” Mr. Watson asked.
“Exactly, Father,” Agatha said, speaking up before Mrs. Amherst could say another word. “Everyone found the tale of Eliza and her unorthodox entry into this country quite riveting.”
“I see,” Mr. Watson muttered, clearly not seeing at all.
“I must say you might have let a few chosen people know what was going on,” Mrs. Amherst continued. “Lady Eliza is such a delightful woman, and I admit I’m a touch miffed you didn’t allow a few of your closest friends to be made known to her.”
Eliza didn’t bother to watch Mr. Watson’s reaction to what had to be a very confusing conversation, but kept her eyes on Sally, who was once again growing pale and appeared to be searching for a means of escape. Eliza sent her a smile.
“It’s wonderful your daughter was able to form an attachment to Lady Eliza through correspondence, Mr. Watson,” Mrs. Amherst said. “May I assume you were well known to her father?”
Eliza held her breath as Mr. Watson turned to his daughter and quirked a brow. Her gaze moved to Agatha, who was seemingly trying to send her father a silent message by batting her lashes rather rapidly. She switched her attention back to Mr. Watson, who, to her surprise, was apparently trying to hold back a laugh. Her surprise increased when Mr. Watson turned to Mrs. Amherst and smiled.
“Lady Eliza’s father, Lord . . . er . . . ?”
“Sefton,” Eliza supplied.
“Exactly, Lord Sefton and I enjoy each other’s company tremendously whenever we have an opportunity to see each other.”
“But he’s dead,” Mrs. Amherst said.
“Did enjoy each other’s company,” Mr. Watson corrected. “He was a most capital fellow until he died such a tragic death. Hunting accident, I believe.”
“Illness,” Eliza muttered under her breath.
“Yes, quite right, a very lingering illness.”
“There’s something peculiar going on here,” Mrs. Amherst said.
“You have no idea,” Eliza replied brightly.
As Mrs. Amherst gaped at Eliza, Sally drew a deep breath and took a step backward.
“It was lovely to see you again, Lady Eliza, but I really should take my leave. Lord Southmoor is most likely looking for me.”
“I’m certain you have much to tell him, Sally, but please do promise to give him my warmest regards,” Eliza said.
“Lady Eliza, I must insist you cease addressing the countess as Sally,” Mrs. Amherst said. “Her name is Salice, and you really should show her a proper level of respect; I believe her position outranks yours.”
“Yes, dear,” Sally said, nodding her head as a smug smile crossed her face, “you really should not be so disrespectful. After all, I am a countess and you, well, you have that horrid family scandal staining your name. I’ve heard the rumors regarding your father, and I would so hate to have to disillusion your friends here in New York.”
The ballroom turned red. Perhaps it was the remark regarding Eliza’s father, or perhaps it was her mother’s necklace winking at her from Sally’s neck, or perhaps it was the very idea the woman was attempting to chastise her. Whatever the reason, a buzzing sound began ringing in Eliza’s ears, and she stepped forward, snatching the necklace from around Sally’s neck and causing the
crowd around them to fall silent. She stood there for a moment, her mother’s necklace clutched in her hand, shaking with rage.
“Lady Eliza,” Mrs. Amherst snapped, “have you taken leave of your senses? Return that immediately to Lady Southmoor.”
“Her name is Sally,” Eliza hissed, “not Salice, not Lady Southmoor, but plain old Sally.”
Sally drew herself up and attempted to look down her nose at Eliza. “My name is Salice Southmoor.”
“Southmoor is your fictitious title, Sally, not your last name. If you were truly a member of the aristocracy, you would know that,” Eliza raged. “This”—she held up the necklace—“belonged to my mother, and you will never wear it again.”
“It’s mine,” Sally said.
“It’s not. My mother’s initials are engraved on the back, and my father also had it inscribed. Shall I read the inscription?”
Sally remained silent even as she glared back at Eliza.
“Very well, I’ll tell you, as I have no need to read it. The inscription says, ‘To my darling Alice. I will love you forever.’” Eliza thrust the necklace at Mrs. Watson. “You may verify that for me.”
Mrs. Watson peered at the necklace and then nodded. “It reads exactly as she said.”
“Your father sold that piece to sustain his style of living,” Sally spat. “You’re trying to cover up the fact that he was a wastrel by diverting attention to me, but it won’t work. Everyone will soon realize you’re unbalanced, and then you’ll be forced to return home without a shred of dignity left to your name.”
“My mental health has never been in question, Sally. I’m not the one who invented elaborate lies to explain incredible wealth and a title that doesn’t exist. I find myself wondering if you’ve actually begun to believe the lies you’ve spread.”
“I have not lied about anything.”
“You were, at one time, my governess, and your husband was my father’s man of affairs. As you have somehow convinced the city of New York that you’re close to royalty, I would have to say you’ve become most adept at spreading tales.”
Sally’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. She moved toward Eliza, but faltered when Hamilton took a step forward.
“You will not get away with this,” Sally spat.