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Elizabeth was already moving without thinking, even though she did not know them. It was incredibly inappropriate to cut into a conversation like she was about to do, but she couldn’t let this opportunity pass her. “Pardon me.”
They both turned to the sound of Elizabeth’s voice and neither one of them could conceal their interest when they saw that it was her. Elizabeth instantly knew she had to tread lightly. It was clear these ladies had nothing better to do that to stand around talking badly about others, even the recently deceased. Considering the robbery that had taken place five years ago, and her spinster state, Elizabeth was sure the gossip had reached the ears of those in London by now.
“You are the daughter of Lord Gillet, are you not?” asked Lady Joneshire, her eyes sparkling.
Elizabeth nodded, resting her glass on the table. She tried to conceal her suddenly trembling hands by hiding them behind her. “Yes, I am.” She curtsied. “It is a pleasure.”
Lady Blackpole held her chin high. “It has been some time since we have last seen each other, has it not? Was it at a tea party? Or perhaps a dinner party? I cannot recall. I pray you have been well.”
“I have, My Lady, thank you.” Elizabeth couldn’t fathom when she’d ever met either one of them, but she guessed it must have been a few years ago, when she’d actively participated during Seasons. “May I ask about the man you just mentioned? The Duke of Brandon?”
“Yes?” asked Lady Joneshire. “What of him?”
Her heart was pounding. Her tongue was dry. She was trying to quell her optimistic side by overpowering it with realistic thoughts. “You say he was the son of the Viscount of Blackworth and that he has passed away?” she asked, pleased that her voice was neutral and unassuming.
“Well, I do not know about him being the son of the Viscount,” Lady Joneshire said. “But the Duke of Brandon has certainly passed away.”
Questions popped into her mind all at once. If the Duke of Brandon was truly the son of the Viscount…then that meant William’s father had returned. For so long, William had resented the absence of his father but never had she considered that he might have returned. And had secured himself a better title, as well. Her heart began to race, sensing that she’d just learned a vital clue. She tried to keep this from appearing on her face, instead murmuring, “That is quite saddening to hear.”
“Yes, death is always sad,” Lady Blackpole agreed with a nod, though the way she turned her nose up didn’t suggest any pity. “Living the way he did, however, I am surprised it did not come earlier.”
“The way he did?”
“He was quite the drunkard, Lady Elizabeth,” Lady Joneshire explained with a single shrug. Elizabeth didn’t miss the way she peeked up at her, as if wanting to gauge Elizabeth’s reaction despite her nonchalant answer. Her voice was already lilting with the urge to gossip to someone else. “Why, there is never a time he was not at the clubs wasting his money away on cards and drinking. It is quite disappointing.”
Disappointing, yes. But Elizabeth never truly knew who he was. Ever since she’d known William, his father had always been overseas and William had always been unwilling to speak about him. Thankfully, because their mothers had been friends, seeing each other had been simple enough.
She’d been away from London for so long that it didn’t come as a surprise to her that she hadn’t heard of any of this gossip. Other than the few times she would go to that small park—even after the robbery—Elizabeth had remained mainly indoors with Gemma, then Patience, as company.
Elizabeth tried to keep her tone steady as she asked, “And what of his son?”
“The Marquess of Flayburn?” Lady Joneshire lifted her fan to her face as she rolled her eyes in thought. “I suppose he has now inherited the Dukedom. I wonder if he has what it takes to pick up the pieces his father has left behind?”
“He is well?” Now desperation was bleeding into her voice. Elizabeth took a step closer, eyes filled with urgency.
“William?” Lady Blackpole echoed in surprise. “Ah, I suppose you must have been close with him as well. My, Lady Elizabeth, to think you have always been so well-connected. Here I thought you remained unmarried simply because you could not find the proper connections, but it appears that is not so. I see no reason for you to remain a spinster all your life, I hope you know? You are a pretty enough lady, as well, so that should account for something.”
“Yes, that is right,” Lady Joneshire said, adding to her friend’s pitying tone. They both looked at her as if she was a sad thing who needed help. “Though, I wouldn’t blame you if you lost hope.”
