She clutched her hands in her lap, the reality cutting deeper than she cared to admit. She had allowed herself to care for Niles, and that had been her mistake. Foolish, really, to think he might see her as more than just a friend. But now, for the first time in a long while, Elsbeth realized she deserved more.
The coach came to a stop, and Elsbeth took a deep breath, bracing herself. Exiting onto the gravel path, she straightened her back and walked briskly towards the manor. The butler opened the door promptly, offering a polite bow, and she forced a brief smile in response before stepping inside.
Her resolve wavered as she went to ascend the staircasetowards her bedchamber, but her mother’s voice stopped her mid-step.
“Elsbeth,” her mother called from the drawing room.
Pausing, Elsbeth turned reluctantly towards the open doorway. “Yes, Mother?”
Her mother’s brow creased. “You’ve been crying,” she observed. “What is wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” she murmured, desperately wanting to be alone.
Her mother crossed the room swiftly and wrapped her arms around her in a comforting embrace. The unexpected warmth undid her. Elsbeth clung to her mother, the tears flowing freely now as the emotion she had tried to contain spilled over.
After a long moment, her mother pulled back, though she kept a gentle hand on Elsbeth’s arm. “Come, let’s sit down and have some tea. You can tell me what’s troubling you.”
Elsbeth allowed herself to be led into the drawing room. Her mother poured a cup of tea and handed it to her before sitting across from her. Elsbeth took a sip of the warm liquid, feeling its soothing effect but knowing it could not erase the turmoil inside her.
“Now, tell me,” her mother prompted. “Why are you so upset?”
Elsbeth debated her next words. She could choose to deflect, to guard her pain as she so often did, or she could confide in her mother as she used to. Inhaling deeply, she chose trust.
“I went to visit Lady Margaret this morning, and I saw Lord Westcott,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “He… he offered to hire me as Eugenie’s companion.”
Her mother’s sharp intake of breath betrayed her shock. “How insulting,” she said, her tone carrying equal parts disbelief and outrage.
Elsbeth nodded, her grip tightening on the delicate teacup. “It was mortifying. Does he truly think so little of me? I thought we were friends, but…”
Leaning forward, her mother placed a comforting hand over Elsbeth’s. “You are an heiress and the daughter of an earl. You can still make a fine match.”
Elsbeth averted her gaze. “I don’t think so, Mother. Who would want me now?”
Her mother’s expression softened with understanding. “My father had a reputation not unlike your father’s, and yet I married the second son of an earl. You mustn’t lose hope.”
“But you became a countess when Uncle Jack passed,” Elsbeth pointed out.
Her mother’s smile was bittersweet. “There is more to life than titles, my dear.”
The candidness of her mother’s tone emboldened Elsbeth to ask a question that had lingered in her heart. “Were you happy with Father?”
Her mother hesitated, her gaze distant as if searching the past. “We had our challenges, as all couples do,” she said carefully. “But your father… he was a difficult man to love.”
“But you did love him?” Elsbeth pressed.
Her mother sighed. “In my own way, yes. But I can’t say your father felt the same. He married me for my dowry.”
The revelation stunned Elsbeth. “Father was a fortune hunter?”
“I wouldn’t call him that, but he was… calculating,” her mother admitted. “He had ambitions, and my dowry supported those ambitions.”
The room fell silent as Elsbeth absorbed this, her perception of her father shifting slightly. After a moment, she changed the subject. “Charles wants me to return to his estate with him.”
Her mother didn’t look the least bit surprised by her revelation. “He’s spoken to me about it.”
“What do you think I should do?”
“I think you should go,” her mother said firmly.
