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Still smiling, and trying for warmth, she queried, “Heroine? I am not a heroine simply through doing what any decent human being would have done.”
Lady Fenton arrived to stand between them. “You are too modest, and we must repay you, Miss Montrose.”
Eliza wished Lady Fenton wouldn’t make such a fuss. The young matron was far too vibrant and joyful with her lot to be a comfortable companion.
“Indeed, we must!” As her betrothed continued speaking, she no longer heard his words. She was too concerned with the fact that it appeared Jack was being ushered towards the door, about to be despatched. Rather peremptorily, she interrupted Mr Bramley’s rambling monologue and rose. “I must say goodbye to young Jack. And young George and Katherine, of course,” she added quickly. “They’ve all had such a shock today.”
Nanny Brown duly brought Jack over to Eliza en route to the door, and Eliza did her best to curb her excitement—such a rare feeling.
Of course, she was a stranger to her boy, and she couldn’t behave in too familiar a fashion, but his sweet face with its baby-blue eyes, so reminiscent of his father’s, made her clutch her heart.
Mr Patmore came round and put his hands on Jack’s shoulders, commenting that he was a bright one after the boy duly recited his alphabet at Eliza’s instigation.
“He is, and what a shame his quick memory and wits will be wasted in the foundling home,” Eliza said, colouring at the surprise levelled upon her.
“Well then, we shall have to please Miss Montrose, won’t we, and see that Jack’s talents are stretched.” Mr Bramley puffed out his chest as if he would be the one to grant her every wish. He turned to Antoinette. “I’ve long worried that the rivalry between my…nephew…George and young Jack is only exacerbated by three days here a week. What do you say, Lady Quamby, if we increase it to five? That way, Jack might learn faster who is master. It seems, also, that such an arrangement would please our heroine of the day, Miss Montrose, when she lives permanently at Quamby House?”
Eliza felt her cheeks burn. It was more than she could have hoped for. If Jack really were able to spend five days—even part of five days—in the company of Mr Bramley’s nephew, and Eliza were living in apartments at Quamby House, why, her impending marriage to Mr Bramley had suddenly acquired a gloss of pure thrilling joy.
Antoinette wrinkled her nose. “Really, I don’t know that Young George needs to be so much in the company of—”
“Oh, please!” Immediately embarrassed, Eliza dropped her gaze and murmured, “I do so love to see an opportunity go to those who are disadvantaged by birth, but who have wit and brains that would see them go far.”
“Quite the philanthropist.” She thought she detected something condescending in Mr Patmore’s tone, but when she glanced up, she found he was smiling at her as if he found her quite enchanting. She blushed, surprised by the warmth of his expression.
Lady Quamby shrugged. “I suppose it’ll only be for a few hours a day when Young George would otherwise be alone. And Jack is a lovely chap. Yes, I’ll see that it’s organised.”
Eliza’s shoulders sagged with joy. She didn’t even feel the usual revulsion occasioned by Mr Bramley’s closeness.
“I have pleased you, my dear Eliza?” he murmured once she was back in her chair. The others were chatting at the other end of the room now the children had been removed by Nanny Brown, and Jack had been taken home in the dogcart by one of the servants.
“Very much, Mr Bramley.” She thought he looked like a toad with his smug self-satisfaction, and wondered how much of a priority pleasing her would be after they were married.
He picked up her hand, forcing her to drop her handiwork, and kissed the back of her wrist. “I look forward to our nuptials, my dear. You’ve made me very happy.”
“And will make you even happier should my aunt choose me as her beneficiary.”
“I’ve no doubt you are hoping for the same.”
Eliza shrugged. “Whatever I possess becomes yours once we’re married. It will make little difference to me during our life together.”
“But a great deal of difference should you become a widow, and for our children.” Mr Bramley chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who speaks the bald truth as you do.”
“Better the truth than a gilded lie. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I will repair to my bedchamber.” Eliza rose, smiling over her shoulder as she started for the door, knowing she would never renege on this marriage. “I’ll see you at the dinner table.”
“And you’d better not be late,” he told her, pointedly.
With a nod, Eliza escaped, and two minutes later was lying joyfully on her bed, blissfully alone, her arms thrown wide as joy filled her lungs.
Lord, she’d not expected great happiness from her marriage to Mr Bramley, but if it were to reunite her with her beloved Gideon, she’d sacrifice her soul to ensure the union went ahead.
Fanny flung around to her sister once dinner was finished and they were alone, though Fenton lounged in the shadows. He’d returned to join the ladies in the drawing room once the gentlemen had retired for the night, and now sat quietly at the escritoire poring over some correspondence.
“She can’t possibly marry George!” cried Fanny. He doesn’t deserve her! He doesn’t deserve someone with half her bravery and her—”
“Don’t say ‘wit’ because Miss Montrose really is very dry and not witty at all, though she is very lovely to look at,” Antoinette interrupted. “She’s penniless, though,” she added as she examined the lovely moons of her nails.
Fanny was used to her sister’s preoccupation with her bounteous assets but knew that beneath the venality was a passionate nature and, essentially, a kind heart, though Fanny would never publicly vouchsafe the latter. Both girls knew there was safety in being considered a heartless beauty, and that sentiment was hardly an asset in the competitive, sometimes vicious, climb to safety and security. No doubt that’s what Miss Montrose had come to realise, too.
