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CHAPTERELEVEN
“Guildford calling at this hour?” Her father asked with surprise.
“For Elizabeth?” Her mother seemed to be more surprised about which of her daughters the call was for. “Guildford calling upon Elizabeth?” she repeated, and Elizabeth took another sip of her wine before picking up her cane and rising, an uncomfortable sensation swirling in the pit of her stomach.
“I shall see what it is about,” Elizabeth said.
“Irene should go with you,” her mother suggested.
“Mother, he asked to see Elizabeth,” Irene pointed out.
“Yes, but he isyoursuitor.” Clarice’s brows rose, and her eyes slightly widened as she said that. “You should go.” Irene looked to Elizabeth as if to ask for guidance, and Elizabeth nodded and smiled slightly.
They walked into the drawing-room to find Rhys standing near the fire. When he turned to face them, Elizabeth’s mind was flooded with the memory of everything they had done that afternoon in Old Ford. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her cane, and she clenched her jaw, admonishing herself against allowing such memories to be drawn forward.
“My Ladies,” he greeted in his usual manner with a slight tilt of his head before he took Irene’s hand and kissed her knuckles, murmuring “You look lovely this evening.”
This is how things are supposed to be,Elizabeth thought. He was supposed to give Irene all of his attention and spare Elizabeth none.
“Thank you, My Lord,” Irene curtsied gracefully. He looked at Elizabeth when he straightened, and she did all she could to maintain her composure. She had promised herself that she would not allow him to affect her again, and she owed it to both herself and Irene to keep that promise.
“My apologies for calling at this time. It is about Brutus.”
“What happened to Brutus?” Elizabeth asked immediately, all of her attention moving to Brutus.
Rhys was quick to reassure her. “Nothing happened to him. He hid between two bookshelves in my drawing room and refused to come out. I think you might need to come and collect him yourself.” He glanced at her cane. “If your foot will allow it.”
Elizabeth frowned. “It will. Did something unusual happen?”
“Why do you ask that?” Rhys’ brow rose very slightly.
“Brutus only hides when he is afraid or has done something wrong and fears your reaction,” she replied.
“He did do something,” Rhys said. “He tore my clothes. When I tried to pick him up to take him to the carriage, he ran out of my bedchamber. Between the shelves in the drawing room was where I found him after considerable search.”
“Oh, dear,” Irene gasped.
“Was he allowed outside since he arrived at your house?” Elizabeth was beginning to understand why Brutus had behaved the way he had.
“I do not believe he was.”
“He was restless,” Elizabeth concluded. “He once tore nine of my dresses when he was mistakenly locked in my bedchamber.”
“But he was not locked inmybedchamber,” Rhys argued. “My valet left him alone for only an hour.”
“He has not been out of the house for a while. That is enough time for him to grow restless,” she explained. “I am sorry this happened, Rh…My Lord.” She bit her lip, but he caught the slip, and the corner of his mouth tilted upward. “I am sure Brutus did not tear your clothes out of any malice.”
“Yes,” Irene agreed with her. “Brutus is not usually destructive.” If she had noticed Elizabeth’s slip, she did not show it.
“Not usually?” Rhys asked, his smile still in place.
“He is a very good dog,” Irene said, and Rhys’ smile broadened.
“Will you come with me to retrieve him, Lady Elizabeth? I fear he might not come out of his hiding place at all, and I do not wish for him to grow hungry and more afraid.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, of course. I will inform my parents and return shortly.” She left him with Irene and went to the dining room where her parents were waiting instead of eating.
“Is something the matter?” Joseph asked.
