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Now she knew that forevermore it would be associated with the night she hitched her life to compromise.
Mabel had continued chatting. “If it’s Mr McAlister that yer 'eart longs fer, I told yer, Miss 'Arcourt 'as said nothin’ 'bout ’im. Only that they’ve known each other a long time. So, my bet is that Mr McAlister will come up trumps. He ain’t marryin’ Miss 'Arcourt cos’ she’s marryin’ Lord Leighton who’s on 'is way to Quamby House and will be 'ere afore the ball is ended. I over’eard Lady Quamby say it to 'er 'usband in the corridor.” Mabel slid a jewelled comb into Lizzy’s curls and rearranged a feather, adding, “So if Mr McAlister ain’t marryin’ Miss 'Arcourt after all, then who else would 'e marry but yer, miss?”
Mabel’s tone was encouraging; her movements deft and practised as she buttoned up the final button of Lizzy’s dress, attended to a wayward curl, and repositioned the silver filet, stepping back to admire the ensemble.
Pulling on her oyster-silk gloves whose sheen complemented the lovely pearl-encrusted headpiece Lizzy’s own mother had worn for her wedding, Lizzy studied her reflection in the looking glass.
“Do I look good enough for the announcement of my betrothal?” she asked.
Mabel, who’d continued her running commentary on the likelihood of Mr McAlister proposing to Lizzy before the night was over, was effectively silenced. Her mouth dropped open as she said in tones of awed admiration, “Why did yer never say? So, Mr McAlister 'as asked yer, afta all! And yer’ve bin in such a daze yer couldn’t tell me?” She put her hands to her pink cheeks. “Well, I’m ever so 'appy fer yer. I fink 'e’s the charmingest an’ 'andsomest of all the gennulmen ’ere.”
“I’m marrying Mr Dalgleish.” Lizzy said briskly, not waiting for a response as she drew on her pale-pink and green silk shawl and made for the door.
“Mr Dalgleish!” Mabel stopped her with a hand on her arm. “But—”
“But why?” Lizzy asked for her. “Because I have no alternative, Mabel. Mrs Hodge has laid it out in the plainest terms. I met him—alone—in the folly. And indeed it was such folly on my part that I must pay the price. My reputation is ruined. Two men are sporting black eyes on account of my foolishness. I’m lucky Mr Dalgleish is still prepared to have me.”
Mabel frowned. “But…‘ow can yer be 'appy if yer marryin’ Mr Dalgleish?”
“I’m sure I will be.” Lizzy swallowed, trying to make sense of the afternoon’s exploits. “Mr Dalgleish and Mrs Hodge say I misread everything, and Mr Dalgleish has been charming ever since.”
“But...miss, yer didn’t like wot 'appened in the folly wiv Mr Dalgleish. Yer were ever so upset straight after and now yer jests told me why. So, why are yer marryin’ 'im?”
Lizzy shook her head to try and clear her vision. “It’s like Susan says. Marriage is not about love. I realise that now, though I was too young and foolish to do so before. It is about wise alliances, and clearly, allying myself with Mr Dalgleish is the wisest course for me right now if I’m to receive my inheritance and so set myself up as mistress of a comfortable home.” She tried to continue in the strong, proud voice that had almost not wavered in the telling of her announcement.
“But...but miss, yer love Mr McAlister.” Mabel sounded distressed. “Wot if he did ask yer ter marry 'im?”
“It’s too late, Mabel. And he won’t; he’s made that clear enough.” She put her hand on the doorknob. “Besides, even if he did, my inheritance won’t be released until I’m twenty-five years old without Mrs Hodge’s approval. Six years from now. How do you suppose we’d survive on…nothing?”
Closing the door behind her so she’d not be waylaid by any more of Mabel’s questions, Lizzy stepped into the passage. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on Mr Dalgleish’s charming smile which had nearly won her over in the early days of their
courtship.
But then the image of his charm was swept away by the horrid urgency of his actions when he’d pushed her against the wall of the folly; when he wanted something more of Lizzy, and she hadn’t liked it. Her brain was filled with the memory of the unwelcome fumblings and heavy breathing. She stared up at the ceiling until a harsh, familiar voice jerked her out of her reverie, and she opened her eyes to see Mrs Hodge with her hands on her hips and an impatient look on her face.
“There you are, Lizzy! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Come with me, now. We can’t keep Mr Dalgleish waiting.
Theo paced up and down the passage near the saloon, head bowed, as he tried to focus on what was required for their flight to the border tonight. He thought he was prepared. There was nothing he had overlooked. Nothing he was missing.
Except Lizzy, of course. And she was never going to have been his. He’d known that from the very beginning, despite the inconvenient rush of feeling he experienced every time she crossed his orbit.
Which she was doing right now, he suddenly saw from his vantage point. Yes, Lizzy was crossing a small vestibule in the wake of Mrs Hodge, who’d just entered the saloon and whose attention was fortunately diverted by Mrs Dalgleish who called her over to the alcove where she was nursing her friend’s Pekingese.
“Lizzy, are you all right?” He drew her away a little, into a small curtained vestibule.
Lizzy looked up at him, the uncertain smile on her face replaced by dismay. “Oh Theo, look what Mr Dalgleish has done to you!”
“It’s nothing, really.” Theo touched his bruised eye and tried not to wince. “I’m sure I did worse to Dalgleish. By God, but I wanted to do a great deal more damage to the brute.”
Lizzy looked at her feet, seeming to shrink into herself. “I…barely know what really happened. I am so sorry, Theo,” she finished in a small voice.
A feeling of great warmth and concern threatened to overwhelm Theo, but he had to hold himself back. For while he wanted to envelop Lizzy in his arms and tell her he’d protect her forever, he knew he had no right. Theo had done no harm to Lizzy for which he had to atone. He might love her, but honour dictated that he right the wrongs of the past for which he was responsible. And that meant protecting Amelia from the clutches of Lord Leighton.
“Oh Lizzy...I am so sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. For the moment, they were alone. It was only a couple of discreet steps to draw her into the shadows. He held her against him for a moment and put his lips to her brow. “More than anything, I wish…” He stopped himself in time, holding her away from him while she gazed into his face with an expression he couldn’t read. There was no point in giving her hope. “You will be happy,” he promised, though he had no right to do so. “You are young and lovely. You will find a man who deserves you for…I do not.” He took a breath then hesitated. He nearly added that at least he’d saved her from the clutches of Dalgleish. But her experiences were too raw. “Now go and enjoy yourself.” Lightly, he pushed her away from him just as the doors opened to the saloon, and the crowd of sumptuously dressed revellers was revealed for a moment.
That was where she belonged. Not shackled to him—penniless, shunned Theodore McAlister, who had not a feather to fly with and whose reputation was blackened beyond redemption.
Fanny stood just inside the door of the saloon, pretending to take an active interest in the shopping peccadilloes of Miss Norton, the middle-aged daughter of the vicar, while the reception rooms pulsed with the excitement of the pinnacle of the year’s entertainment for the local neighbourhood.
