Eliza shook her head firmly, pouring out first one then two cups of tea. Her hands did not shake one bit.
“If I left my husband’s house, I would have nothing. Not a penny, not an inch of land. I would be obliged to leave my children behind, and we both know that Auric would not leteither of us see them again. Ever. It is not a choice I am willing to make.”
Clayton bit hard on the inside of his cheek. He tasted copper.
“Very well,” he said quietly. “Just know that I am here for you, Eliza.”
She faltered, dropping in two lumps of sugar into her tea. “Thank you, Clayton. That means a great deal.”
There was silence for a few moments after that. Clayton sipped his tea, feeling it scald down his throat, and tried not to look at the blossoming bruise on his stepmother’s face. He had seen similar marks before, both on Eliza and, as far as he could remember, on his mother, too.
“Why are you here, Eliza?”
Eliza sighed, picking up a biscuit. “It’s about Amelia’s birthday. Have you chosen her a present yet?”
“Not yet. I was thinking of ribbons.”
Eliza lifted an eyebrow. “For the third year in a row? Really, Clayton.”
“Well, what would you suggest, then? It’s remarkably hard to buy things for a girl of her age. I can’t just buy her dolls, now, can I?”
She bit delicately into the biscuit, chewing carefully. “There is a book Amelia has been talking about incessantly. Oh, what was it called? She already has one book by the author and wants the second. Here, I shall show you.”
Diving into a pocket in her skirt, Eliza took out a neat, cloth-bound volume, handing it to Clayton.
“Sense and Sensibility,” he read aloud. “A Novel By A Lady. The author is anonymous, then? Intriguing.”
“Yes, I thought so. A female author is a rare thing, especially such a popular one. You know how Amelia longs to be a writer, although of course we would never mention such a thing to Auric. I’ve read the book myself, and I find it quite charming.Witty, emotional, and entirely fascinating. You should read it yourself.”
Clayton sighed, opening the front cover. “You know I hardly bother with novels, Eliza.”
She sipped her tea, eyeing him over the rim of the cup. “Perhaps it is time to try something new, then.”
He flicked through a few pages while Eliza drank her tea, and had to admit that it was very well written, and it was witty.
“Where should I go, then, to find the new book by this author?” he asked, setting the book to one side.
His stepmother threw him a level look. “Perhaps you might try a bookshop, or a circulating library? Those are very popular. I would very much like Amelia to have a subscription to one of those libraries – I would like a subscription myself – but you know how your father feels about such things.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Be grateful you are not a woman, Clayton. The smallest things in life are harder than you could ever imagine.”
Clayton swallowed hard, clenching his jaw.
I believe you, he wanted to say. I see how my father treats you, how he treated my mother. Like things, to be controlled.
“If I did not have an independent fortune,” he managed at last, “I would be controlled, just like you. Eliza, please consider coming to stay with me. You could bring the children.”
She shot him a pitying look. “The children would be returned to Auric at once. The law sides with him.”
“But…”
“I do not want to discuss it further, Clayton. Please.”
He fell silent.
The quiet stretched on for a moment or two, broken only by an authoritative rapping at the door. For one awful moment, Clayton thought that it could have been his father. After all, would Mary, the nervy maid, know that the Earl of Wrenwoodwas not to be allowed entry to this house without Clayton’s express permission?
By the way Eliza’s shoulders stiffened, it seemed that she thought the same thing.
Mary appeared again, looking flushed. “It’s a messenger for Lady Wrenwood.”
