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Chapter Eleven
Everything was perfect. Eliza leaned down to take a whiff of the reinvigorated lavender her new gardener had so painstakingly revived. The ball was only a week away, and for the first time in quite a few months, she was confident that everything was under control. The roof repairs had been completed to satisfaction, and the ballroom returned to its former glory. The biggest triumph was the garden, transformed from a dour collection of withering blooms into a lush wonderland of greenery. It was to be the highlight of the evening, with the grand terrace doors thrown wide open for guests to wander through.
On this morning, she’d decided to inspect the area one last time for any finishing touches and was pleased to find that there seemed to be nothing that needed improving. It was a shame that James had needed to let his gardener go, for the man was indeed a genius in his craft. The reminder of her lover put only a small damper on this cheerful morning. Her feelings for him were still fresh in her heart. The persistent fear that he only saw her as a casual affair still lingered, made even worse by the fact that she knew he would need to be confronted sooner rather than later. If their emotions didn’t align, then Eliza was uninterested in continuing a relationship that would only hurt her in the long run. If they did, however, that was yet another uncertain future that she was terrified to contemplate.
“My Lady.”
Eliza jumped before turning on the voice. Much to her annoyance and more than a bit of concern, Harry stood before her. “What are you doing here so early in the morning? And why weren’t you shown to the parlor?”
He smiled in a way that was likely intended to be charming, but only unnerved her further. “Oh, I actually came in through the back gate.” The smile fell. “I needed to speak with you immediately.”
Eliza’s first instinct was to dismiss whatever the man had to say, but his earnest and troubled expression gave her pause. Generally, it was quite easy to tell when Harry was full of it, and today he seemed more genuine than she’d ever witnessed. Perhaps something new had come up in the inheritance, some old directive from her late husband that hadn’t been found until now. She’d heard stranger things before, Lord Clifton’s bizarre ascension being one of them. “What is it? Quickly now, for I am about to have my breakfast.”
“I won’t demure to spare your feelings then,” he replied grimly. “Dalton is planning to trick you into marriage.”
“Ridiculous,” she said without missing a beat. Had her nephew-in-law suspected the affair and sought to sabotage things? Harry was angling to have her for himself, after all, as foolish as the notion was. That he knew of the relationship was of little concern. Things would be settled between her and Dalton soon enough, whether that was marriage or separation, so there would be little time for the man to do any real damage. This impromptu plot of his was rather amusing, however.
“No, Eliza. Listen to me. I heard him speaking with Amberwood, Ashford, and Clifton at The White Heather. Some of his father’s debts have been uncovered, enough to completely ruin him. To make things worse, Lady Dalton apparently started a scandal that’s about to destroy the family name even further, if such a thing is possible. To the other men’s’ credit, they tried their best to talk him out of it, but he looked quite desperate to save himself and declared he would tell you he loved you and get you to wed him by special license before you could find out about everything.”
Eliza rose an eyebrow at the ridiculous tale. “You’re telling me the man sat at a table with Clifton and Ashford like old chums meeting for a drink?” She could understand Amberwood being cordial, what with him being James’s brother-in-law, but the other two barely tolerated his presence at the best of times. James had also been quite frank with her about his finances, it often being a topic he trusted her with during their evening conversations. As far as she was aware, he had pockets to let but was stable and solvent. As for Lady Dalton… “I am sure if there was even half the scandal you say, then it would be all over town by now.”
“I’m sure it will be very soon.”
“And you just happened to be right next to their table to overhear the entire thing? How convenient.”
Harry sighed with a shake of his head. “I knew you likely wouldn’t want to hear it. Look, I know I have not been subtle in my hints that marrying me would be a good idea, and I will admit that my life would be far easier with the fortune I should have inherited if not for my uncle’s pernicious nature.”
It was the first time in their entire acquaintance that he’d admitted as such, and she was more than a little shocked at him doing so. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because I don’t want you to think that my desires are my only motive in coming here. I partly grew up in this house, you know.” He looked at her home for one wistful moment before turning his attention back, fixing that unsettlingly earnest stare upon her once more. “As much as I hated my uncle, I don’t want to see our family’s legacy run to the ground because some unscrupulous fortune hunter managed to turn your head.”
She bristled with indignation. “I am not some silly, simpering idiot falling for the first handsome face to give me attention. You know nothing about my relationship with Lord Dalton, which is obvious to me after hearing that tall tale of yours. I would kindly ask you to leave this home.Myhome, mind you. Not yours, and not your family’s.”
“Very well,” he replied with a calmness that she hadn’t been expecting. “But mark my words, the first thing Dalton will do when he sees you again is declare his undying love and propose. Be ready.”
“Good day, My Lord.”
He regarded her coolly before nodding. “Good day, My Lady.”
Eliza watched him disappear, unease slithering under her skin, and did not leave the garden until she heard the definitive slam of the back gate shutting. Weary and more than a little irritated, she made her way to the breakfast room. She’d barely settled down to eat when her butler slid her a small stack of morning papers, as he did every morning. Eliza picked up one of the scandal rags she occasionally indulged in, hoping that the silly tale likely nestled within would distract her from Harry’s frankly disturbing behavior a few minutes ago. The tea nearly spewed from her mouth as she read the column.
Shocking, salacious, and utterly scandalous! It has come to our attention that a certain Lady D was seen in the company of Lord W. While this should be no surprise to our readers in the wake of a certain incident involving a pile of clothing in the middle of Mayfair, one interesting tidbit concerning their new appearance together is that they were reportedly spotted boarding a ship bound for the continent. With that in mind, and Lord W purportedly being quite open about his plans for a European tour (in spite of the war, mind you.), we can only conclude that the two have run off together. Most devastating, indeed, particularly for the innocent Lord D. Or perhaps not so innocent, after all? One can only speculate what sort of aid a son might render to his mother.
So, Harry had been correct, in that regard at least. But it was entirely possible that he’d merely read about it before her and hoped that the truth of it would shore up his scheme. No, Harry’s accusations could still be firmly ignored. Eliza was far more worried about this scandal and its implications for James. He had an unmitigated disaster on his hands, that was for certain. But Eliza would stick by him, and together they would work out a plan as they always did. Anxious and more than a little concerned, she absently finished her meal, distracted with trying to discern when James might come to call.
“Milady,” her butler came back in. “Lord Dalton is here to see you.”
Well, there was her answer. “Show him to the parlor. I will be in shortly.” She rose, Harry’s parting words worming their way into her mind.
“He’ll be here as soon as his scheming self is able.”
But of course he would, Eliza reminded herself with an inward shake. His mother had just run off to the continent with her lover without even a shred of discretion. He was likely more than a little distressed. She briskly made her way to the parlor. James shot up from the sofa the moment she opened the door. He smiled, though she could sense his nerves. “Eliza.”
“Are you alright?” She’d been referring to the scandal, though he seemed to misunderstand as he looked down at his admittedly disheveled form.
“Oh, I do look a fright. I was at The White Heather all evening and neglected to change in my haste to get to you.”
Her mind went blank at the words. “The White Heather?” she asked with a tremulous smile. “I didn’t think you were on good enough terms with Clifton to venture there again so soon.”
