That settled that. Elizabeth would have to try being cool toward him. She would also see if he took her hints.
Both ladies rose. “I shall send Harrington to you when he returns,” Lady Markham bent over and smoothed Elizabeth’s hair back. “I believe Gibson said he was muttering something about Jackson’s.”
“Just like a man”—the dowager shook out her skirts—“instead of staying here and making you see him, he’d rather go punch someone.” She kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “There are times I think the Amazons had the right idea about men.”
“Mama!” Lady Markham’s sound was somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. “You adored Henry!”
“That was after I got him sorted out,” the dowager said loftily.
“Thank you both for your help.” The weight that had been pressing on Elizabeth’s breast began to lift. If they were correct, somehow, she would make Geoffrey realize he loved her.
She had to if the rest of her life was not to be ruined.
“It was our pleasure, my dear.” Lady Markham had her hand on the latch. “That you call him by his first name is an extremely good sign.”
Elizabeth slid out of bed and padded to the mirror. A woman with swollen, red eyes stared back. Even the cucumbers had not helped. There was nothing for it. She cringed. This would be the face she showed to Geoffrey and the rest of the household for she still had a few things to accomplish.
Mr. Grantham sent her a note that the contracts were ready for her signature, so that was Elizabeth’s first stop.
On her way to speak with her new housekeeper, her mother-in-law found her. “I forgot to mention this before, but if Harrington wishes to ride in the coach with you, you must put him off. If he is anything like his father, he will be able to find several ways to make the ride more interesting.”
It took two or three seconds for her to understand Lady Markham. “Oh.” Elizabeth’s cheeks grew warm.
“Indeed.” Her ladyship nodded. “I suggest you make some excuse about your maid having to ride with you.”
“That is good advice.” In fact, she would not have even thought about what could occur in a carriage.
“There you are, my dear.” Lord Markham strolled up. “Have you seen Harrington?”
Her mother-in-law shook her head, and Elizabeth said, “I believe he has gone out for a while.”
“In that case, tell him I have already had your horses sent ahead. You’ll be using mine. I’ve also posted horses along the road.”
By the time Elizabeth dressed for dinner, she was confident all was ready for the departure in the morning.
After donning a muslin evening gown, she selected one of the new books she’d bought and sat on the chaise near a window. Unfortunately, she never seemed to get past the first page.
When her husband had not returned home by seven—indeed, he had not even bothered to send word when he would be home—Elizabeth ordered dinner to be served to her in her dining room.
That was just as well. If she could not be honest with Geoffrey, she had no idea what to say to him. Yet, his grandmother was correct. If she told him she was upset because he did not love her, he might just say it to make her feel better, and that was not what Elizabeth wanted. She wished for him to realize he was in love with her rather then just tell her he was.
Elizabeth used the rest of the evening considering and rejecting different ideas. She briefly considered continuing to share his bed, but did not think she could go through with it. Not when she didn’t know if the act meant as much to him as it did to her. Although Elizabeth rarely had suffered from headaches, she supposed a series of the things were in her future if she was to avoid him.
Later, Vickers brought Elizabeth a cup of warm milk sweetened with honey, and when the clock struck ten, she went to bed, alone and with no good idea how to proceed. It was strange how quickly one became used to sharing a bed. Well, Geoffrey would be alone as well. That should give him a thing or two to think about.
Rolling over, Elizabeth hit her pillow. Blast it all. Being in love was not supposed to hurt this much.
* * *
After going a few rounds with Endicott at Jackson’s, the two of them had taken themselves off to Boodle’s. Not even returning home to change into evening kit. They dined and discussed the possibility that Wellington would not have a sufficient force to win against Napoleon.
“The question is, Who is the better general?” Endicott said.
“My money is on Wellington.” Geoff signaled the servant to bring more wine.
“That is what we all hope.” His friend drained his wineglass. “I’d join you over there if it wasn’t for the Peace Party making difficulties about the funding.”
“There are a lot of peers still in Town for that reason. Even my father. Although he said it was because m’mother didn’t want to miss my wedding.”
