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Could it be that he truly wants me to stay? If that is the case, why doesn’t he simply say so? Why is he making things so painfully confusing?
The realization should have pleased her, but it annoyed her instead. She’d spent the better part of this morning upset that he’d dared to bring up having her leave again, only to return to her bedchamber to find that he’d found ways to make her more comfortable. Just what was he doing playing with her emotions like this?
This simply cannot do. I must give him a piece of my mind.
“My Lady?” Minnie called as Elizabeth shot to her feet.
“Please, prepare a change of clothing for me, Minnie,” Elizabeth said as she made her way to the door. “I shall return shortly. There is a simple matter I need to take care of first.”
“Yes, My Lady.”
Elizabeth left the bedchamber and made her way back the way she came, her steps determined. Paintings of somber-faced lords and ladies watched her go by, her feet almost stomping against the long dark-blue carpet that stretched throughout the length of the hallways. A part of her knew she was only using this as an excuse to see him again, but she didn’t care. When she was mad at him, happy with him, or otherwise, Elizabeth wanted to be in his presence.
You’re raving mad, Elizabeth, she spoke in her head. You are simply mad. If Father were to see you now, well…
If Lord Gillet were to see her now, she didn’t know how he would react. That uncertainty—and the guilt that trapped her whenever she thought of him—was the reason she tried to distract herself from it often. Lord Horenwall? She didn’t care quite as much about him.
Upon reaching the grand staircase, Elizabeth spotted Harold standing by the banister. He appeared to speaking with someone, but upon her approach, the person turned and left. Though she was certain she’d moved silently, Harold faced her and bowed his head slightly. “Is there a matter I can help you with, Lady Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth, a bit taken aback by his over-awareness, forgot what she’d planned to ask. It came back in a second. “Do you happen to know where His Grace is right now?” she asked.
“He is currently in the main parlor, My Lady, with his guest.”
Ah, yes, I’d forgotten he’d been called away by a guest.
Suddenly, something occurred to her. “It was my belief that His Grace had cut off contact with most people from his past. Is this person someone he met just recently?”
“That is not the case, My Lady,” Harold responded.
Elizabeth raised her brows. “Is that so? Could you tell me who it is?”
He bowed his head and again and Elizabeth instantly knew she wasn’t going to like his response. “I am afraid that information I am currently not allowed to speak about, Lady Elizabeth. If you wish to know, you will have to ask His Grace yourself.”
“Ah. I see.”
“Is that all you require of me, My Lady?”
Elizabeth nodded, already growing distracted by her curiosity. Harold’s reluctance to tell her anything didn’t strike her as very odd. It was clear this man was loyal to a fault and if he could not say who this guest was, then it was clear William did not want her to know. Which only made her more intrigued.
“I shall take my leave now.” Harold did just that, leaving Elizabeth with her thoughts.
Should I try to see who this guest is? It may very well be no one of interest. Now that he is the Duke of Brandon, I am sure there are gentlemen who were once conducting business with his father. If I go to see, I will only be intruding.
But a single thought echoed in her mind: what if it is not?
What if this person was someone like her, someone he’d tossed aside? Someone who had learned about him again now that he was the Duke of Brandon and could be more open to public scrutiny? She knew very well that she should not allow anyone to see her here, but perhaps she could simply sneak a peek without this guest noticing her watching. She’d done such things on numerous occasions whenever her parents would entertain friends during her youth. Certainly, her skills had not dulled.
Elizabeth’s curiosity had a mind of its own, and without stopping to think it through, she began to make her way to the parlor. She didn’t know what she would do once she was there, didn’t know how she would keep from coming off as rather rude. But the force of her need to know pushed her.
It wasn’t until she saw the door that she finally came to her senses. “Goodness, what are you doing, Elizabeth?” she asked herself, swiveling on her heels. “You’ve surely lost your mind. First you shout at him and now you are thinking of interrupting him while he’s—”
