Page 52 of Yearning

The new baron and the new baroness were, even then, walking through the house in London and commenting on how they were going to change this or change that.

Elizabeth was in a haze.

This was all happening. She was a widow. She was being cast out of her home. The will had still not been read. She had no notion what sort of provisions had been made for Lily. She knew what she had been promised in the event of the baron’s death, so she was secure, but she had not thought hard enough about whether Lily was going to be provided with an adequate dowry, and Elizabeth was going to have to see to all of the aspects of Lily’s upbringing herself, she supposed, and Lily was just a poor and darling fatherless child, and—

“Lady Hellig,” said a deep male voice.

Elizabeth looked up and was astonished to see someone she had not seen in some time. “Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

He smiled at her.

“Did someone call for me?” came the voice of the new baroness.

Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to face the new baroness. “Oh, no, my deep apologies. I was speaking to the Baroness of Hellig.”

“I am the Baroness of Hellig,” said the new baroness, lifting her chin.

“Are you truly?” said the colonel. “Well, I can’t see how anyone would ever guess such a thing. It isn’t as if I’ve overheard your saying anything that would indicate you were stepping into a title or that you were readying to move into this household.”

The baroness colored slightly.

“Of course,” said the colonel, raising his eyebrows at her and her husband, “I am certain you are both too busy grieving to think of the future in too much detail.”

“Yes, indeed,” said the baroness, chagrined. She tugged on her husband’s arm. “Come, my lord, let us look in on your father in the front room again.”

The new baron let his wife drag him off.

Elizabeth inclined her head. “That was deftly done, colonel.”

“I learned from my mother, who is the best at putting people in their places when they are behaving badly,” he said. “It’s best if done with only slight sarcasm. Not much emotion, of course, as if everything is beneath you.” He gestured with a hand, looking off into the distance with an arrogantly bemused expression on his face.

Elizabeth laughed, a hand to her mouth. She laughed too hard and too loud. Eventually, she made herself stop, hand to her chest. “Oh, dear. You must excuse me. I am rather out of sorts.”

“As you would be,” said the colonel. “You are grieving, reeling from the way your entire life is about to change, and you have people going through your house talking about what they are going to do with all of your furniture.”

“Well, the furniture was here,” she said. “I have never felt true ownership of any of my husband’s things, really. It is only that…”

“They are being horrible,” he said. “It is only that they are being horrible.”

“I do not know,” she said. “You must understand that my husband’s eldest son has always felt slighted, because he was raised by his stepmother, who seemed to resent that he was the heir, and—”

“Oh, everyone has some sort of reason to hate their family,” said the colonel. “I imagine you have reasons you do not always get along with yours?”

“True enough, I suppose,” said Elizabeth.

“That is no excuse for being horrible,” said the colonel. “If you would permit me, I think what you should do now is to have someone announce that you are too exhausted and that the house must be cleared of guests and well-wishers for the evening. I am happy to assume that responsibility. And then you should eat something. I imagine a great deal of food has appeared in your kitchen and dining room?”

“Well, yes, things have been brought,” said Elizabeth.

“So, you should eat, and then relax,” said the colonel. “Yes?”

She gazed at him. “Where have you come from?”

“Serving my country thither and yon,” he said with a jaunty smile, and she wondered why it was that his features seemed handsomer with age. Was it like Mr. Darcy’s crooked chin?

Oh, that was odd. She never thought about Mr. Darcy anymore.

Of course, seeing his cousin, it would have triggered some thoughts of him, would it not?