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Eliza was shocked. So they knew? The speculative, almost self-satisfied look in Lady Fenton’s eyes suggested she was entirely au fait with the state of both their hearts. She wasn’t sure if she were horrified that her business was so open to scrutiny, or glad she needn’t be so guarded.
Keeping her voice neutral, she answered, “It was good to see him when he came for Devil’s Run. And then, of course, my aunt died, and he has been very…kind.” She hoped the fire in her cheeks wasn’t obvious to Lady Fenton. She looked up, blinking. “He needn’t have felt he owed me anything. No one does, though I do appreciate you being here.”
A short silence greeted her words, and it wasn’t just that Lady Fenton was too busy nibbling on a sugar biscuit to answer. “So he’s said nothing interesting, yet,” Lady Fenton clarified. Goodness, she was a persistent one, but Eliza wasn’t about to give anything away.
She shook her head briefly, for she’d already answered that question, then rose. “Please be comfortable here and excuse me while I attend to my Aunt Catherine, who seems to have taken the organisation of matters very much to heart. It’s much more peaceful in here; I assure you.”
With much to be done, Eliza delayed until the very last minute returning to the room that now occupied her intended and the man she loved. They and Lady Fenton appeared to be engaged in some rather desultory conversation but turned as she appeared on the threshold.
She caught Mr Patmore’s slight frown and blushed, unable to meet his eye as her insides began to crawl. She hated having to put on an act for everyone’s benefit, but when she was married to Mr Patmore, she could be as transparent with her affections as Lady Fenton was. No one seemed to think any the worse of her for showing her feelings.
Married to Mr Patmore? Could she really hope for such happiness with such an honourable man?
Honourable man? The thought struck sudden fear into her heart.
“Gentlemen, the mourners are about to follow my aunt’s coffin,” she announced. “Lady Fenton and I will, of course, remain here to welcome you when you return. That’s if you wish to join the mourners.” She hoped they did. Simply looking at Mr Patmore’s delicate mouth did dangerous things to her insides, while even a glance at Mr Bramley’s stubbled jaw made her feel ill. She’d thought that her prosaic words would help dispel the kernel of guilt she felt growing by the minute inside her. She’d thought it was grief or fear, both of them natural emotions for farewelling the life of security she’d known these past seven years. Now she realised her feelings stemmed from another source as she caught Mr Patmore looking at her with blatant…was that really longing?
She hitched in a breath. If it were, how much would he condone her past? Could she hide that and live a lie? Should she be transparent with him before she allowed him to make his offer? She felt utterly helpless in the face of such conflict.
Last night, she’d allowed him the liberties only an abandoned woman would offer because she feared she was dying inside, and she wanted the reaffirmation of bodily responses to put the lie to that and damn the consequences. She’d never expected either her heart, or his, to become so engaged.
They all turned at the tragic bleat from the front step, as her cousin Susana sailed up the garden path and threw herself upon Eliza.
“Poor Aunt Montrose! What a tragedy.” She dabbed at her eyes with her embroidered handkerchief, but Eliza could see no sign of blotchiness. Her blonde ringlets were pinned perfectly in place, as usual, her mourning dress was cut to advantage, and her blue eyes sparkled, not with unshed tears, but interest as she looked between Mr Patmore and Mr Bramley.
Dutifully, Eliza performed the necessary introductions, knowing Susana would be sizing up their respective prospects. An earl’s nephew and a country gentleman of sizeable landholdings; both of them a cut above the kind of gentleman she was in the habit of dancing with at the local Assembly Ball, and definitely worth cultivating their acquaintance, for she showed no signs of wanting to go indoors as she boldly quizzed them.
“How very kind of you to come all this way and what a comfort and a support to Eliza.” She affected a look that was part tragic, part heroic gratitude. “I shall miss my aunt more than words can say. She was a dear, kind woman who was always so good to me.”
And now you’re here to see how good she really was after death, Eliza thought as she led Susana inside. To her relief, the gentlemen left them to join those who would follow the coffin.
She was amused by the spark of excitement in Susana’s eyes when she was introduced to Lady Fenton. Eliza could see Susana sizing her up, no doubt thinking that if the cool dark beauty could snare such a fine catch as she had—for the Brightwell sisters had in their day been notorious—so could Susana with her baby-blue eyes and girlish ringlets. Oh, Susana was undoubtedly pretty, prettier than Eliza with her childish looks and manner, but she was calculating.
As Eliza glimpsed the funeral procession wind down the street from the parlour window, she could keep her fear at bay no longer and went to sit down in a chair a little removed from the grouping, hoping to be left in peace. Soon her fate would be revealed.
> Oh, Lord, make me the favoured one, she prayed silently as the village ladies and a few of Aunt Montrose’s friends from farther afield partook of the food and drink Eliza and Dora had laid on. Anything else would see her effectively parting with her child. She wondered where Gideon was now. At Quamby House, playing with young George and Katherine? She couldn’t wait to return there although there was no telling where she’d be living tonight and for the years hereafter. As Mr Bramley’s wife at Quamby House, or as a penniless spinster in her aunt’s cottage? That is, unless her Aunt Catherine insisted she was too young and that her lot must be to serve her with the same devotion she’d served her Aunt Montrose. Well, Eliza would not serve anyone. Somehow she’d find a way to be with Gideon.
It was in this frame of mind that she tried to appear at her ease with a fidgeting Susana, who clearly was harbouring the same hopes she was. And when the gentlemen returned from their doleful mission looking, nonetheless, in good spirits as they proceeded through the door and greeted the ladies, Eliza wasn’t surprised by the coquettish manner her younger cousin adopted.
The more time passed, the more Eliza’s spirits sagged. She relinquished her chair to an elderly village spinster, and introduced herself to a group of women she didn’t know.
Aunt Montrose’s lawyer was due to conduct the reading of the will in half an hour, which meant that the intervening time would be spent in an agony of having to entertain the fine people from Quamby House who had traversed half a county to be with her. She glimpsed Mr Patmore’s eyes on her, no doubt waiting in anticipation of a sign from her that she returned his feelings. And she did, but oh Lord, it wasn't that simple. Mr Bramley’s furrowed brow indicated he was clearly in a fever of anticipation as to whether or not the money would go to her, and whether he was looking at his future wife or not each time his eyes landed upon her.
“Miss Montrose, how are you bearing up?”
Mr Patmore was at her elbow, offering her some Madeira and looking as if he really did care what she was feeling. She’d have loved to have been alone with him, but knew it would be easier to draw him into the circle of more general conversation.
“I’m sure I’m just as distraught as Cousin Susana at the loss of dear Aunt Montrose,” she said, excusing herself from Aunt Montrose’s friends and taking a step towards Susana, who was conversing with Lady Fenton and Mr Bramley. “Aunt Montrose used to call Susana her faithful blessing and the epitome of womanly virtue,” she added, inclining her head at Susana’s sugary smile. “Especially when I’d displeased her with the pressure of the massages I gave her to ease her painful limbs.”
“I always had such a light touch, cousin,” Susana said with a simper.
“And such a pleasing manner to Aunt Montrose. You were indeed the favoured one.”
“Oh, but it’s so dreadful that Aunt Montrose’s money may come between us,” Susana said in plaintive tones. “Eliza has nothing. Not since the death of her poor parents, but at least I’ve not grown up in poverty after bringing shame upon my family.” She put her hand to her mouth, adding quickly, “Though if Eliza has done wrong, she has paid for her sins with her tireless devotion to her dear departed late Aunt Montrose.”
“And how have you paid for your sins, Miss Hilcrest?”
Eliza sent a surprised and grateful look in Lady Fenton’s direction.
