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Chapter Two
Eliza glared at the cloudy morning sky as another chilly wind made her shiver. Of course, the few hours that she’d carved out for herself amongst the chaos of event planning would have such awful weather. She’d been hoping for a calm, sunny morning stroll around an empty Hyde Park to calm her increasingly fraying nerves. The builder she’d commissioned had found even more water damage, and her gardener had reluctantly requested leave to tend to his ailing wife and understandably wouldn’t be able to return for several months at least. A devastating blow, considering that her gardens were a highlight of the event. Her man was one of exceptional skill, and she despaired at finding a suitable replacement in the interim. Another cold gale blasted through, and Eliza clutched her bonnet to her head with an irritated grimace. At least the park was empty, it being far too early for the fashionable promenades those of her ilk liked to partake in. While Eliza often delighted in the social whirl of London, it was nice to have some time to herself on occasion. Even she, premier hostess of the ton, tired of society and its ridiculous requirements. Thankfully, as a widow of considerable means, she had far more freedoms afforded to her than most young ladies, one of them being the ability to stroll unchaperoned in Hyde Park with relatively little censure. She tried to imagine Lord Aircourt allowing any such thing and grimaced inwardly.
That was only one of the many reasons her marriage had been such an unmitigated disaster. A twenty-year age gap left little for them to have had in common, after all. Annoyed that her thoughts were drifting towards such an unwanted topic, Eliza huffed and quickened her pace, hoping some exercise might distract her wayward thoughts and burn off some of this restless anxiety coursing through her. A frigid raindrop pelted her nose, followed by another on her cheek.
“You cannot be serious.” With a groan, she scanned her surroundings as the mild drizzle grew heavier and all but stomped to a distant gazebo she spotted amongst a smattering of trees. She reached the shelter before the downpour, though that small mercy was of little comfort. Who knew how long the deluge would last, and Eliza had precious little time to waste milling about like a ninny. But braving the rain was equally unacceptable. God forbid she caught a chill and lost several days to such an ailment. Not caring how unladylike she appeared, the park was all but deserted after all, Eliza plopped down on one step and grumpily rested her chin on her fist. She passed the time watching a pair of birds bathing in a puddle, their rather adorable shimmying doing little to brighten her mood. After a good fifteen minutes had passed with little sign of the weather improving, Eliza was about ready to stamp her foot in frustration. Really, there was no possible way the morning could get any worse. Except, apparently, there was as hoofbeats sounded in the distance. With a muted curse, she scrambled to stand. God forbid some busybody sees her sprawled so ungraciously and titter about it to their friends. Straightening her skirts and adjusting the brim of her bonnet, she rose and donned the air of the regal countess she was expected to be as the horseman emerged from the trees and galloped along one of the riding paths. He slowed to a walk and scanned the area. His gaze fell on her location, and Eliza sucked in a breath upon recognizing the face of Lord Dalton.
“The Lord is testing me on this day, of this, I am sure.” She grit her teeth as he steered his horse around and made his way over.
“Oh, Lady Aircourt,” he called jovially as he approached. “I did not recognize you from such a distance. How peculiar to find a young lady such as yourself wandering about at this hour.”
“Good morning, Lord Dalton,” she replied magnanimously, as if he hadn’t been all but ejected from her home a mere few days prior. “I could ask the same of you.” Thankfully, she had heard little of his movements in the week after their interaction and had not had the misfortune of running into him at any of the few entertainments she’d found the time to attend, though she had not expected he would appear at them. It was doubtful that many invitations were sent his way, if at all, which was likely why he had sought to enlist her aid in the first place. Now, however, it seemed her good fortune had run out.
“I enjoy a morning ride,” he said and. The man was soaked to the bone, clothes wrapping around his muscular frame like a second skin and black hair plastered becomingly about his face. Those bright sapphire eyes focused squarely on her person. He was too pretty by far, and she was annoyed with herself for noticing such.
“Your hat seems to have run off, My Lord,” was all she managed to say.
He grinned boyishly in response. “It got away with me during my vigorous ride. I don’t have the slightest idea where it could have fallen. Most improper. I do apologize.”
Were she not entirely aware if his true character, Eliza might have been charmed by his playful flippancy. Instead, she merely glared. “Most improper, indeed.”
Seemingly unperturbed, Dalton continued to smile as he dismounted. “Would you mind if I sheltered from the rain with you?”
“Yes,” she replied.
For the first time, his confidence seemed to waver as the smile slipped. “Oh. Well, I suppose your reaction is only natural considering the poor terms we parted on.” He brushed his soaked hair back as the rain intensified, and Eliza suppressed the smidge of guilt she felt at the sight. Dalton deserved none of her pity. Yet, despite her rejection, the infuriating man did not move from his spot. “To be honest, I was hoping to speak with you again. It is fortuitous that I spotted you here.”
“What more do we have to talk about? I made my feelings on the matter of your questionable desire for forgiveness quite clear.”
“I don’t think my sincerity would be so questionable if you knew the entire truth of the matter.”
Curiosity stirred despite herself. What information could he possibly share that would be enough to change her mind? His actions had been clear for all to see. “The truth?”
Dalton took a tentative step towards the gazebo, likely encouraged by her obvious curiosity. “Please, give me a chance to explain myself. You are free to toss me aside once you hear the tale in its entirety.”
She hesitated, wondering how much she could trust him. His face seemed sincere, his blue gaze open and without apparent guile, but she well knew that most members of the ton excelled at subterfuge. Yet, it would do her no harm to hear him out, and if doing so resulted in him leaving her be for good, then all the better. “Very well. But I am only listening and am under no obligation to change my mind.”
The soft smile returned to his face once more. “That is all I am asking.” He gestured to the stone stairs before her. “May I? This rain is becoming unbearably cold.” As if to prove his point, a shiver racked through him as another icy gale swept the rain against his lean form.
Eliza wasn’t completely heartless, even towards a rogue such as him. She stepped to one side. “Of course.”
He trotted up the stairs in two long-legged strides and perched himself at the top, a mere few inches from her legs, so close that the fabric of her dress brushed against his arm in the breeze. He sprawled one muscular leg out and propped up the other, casually resting his arm on his knee and staring out into the empty fields of the park. Deciding he looked unbearably attractive in that moment, Eliza wondered at the wisdom of giving him her ear. But it was too late now. She was well and stuck with him for as long as it would take for whatever ludicrous story he’d likely concoct on the spot to be told. “Well?” She asked irritably when he spent another few moments in quiet contemplation. “Say what you must.”
**
James couldn’t believe his luck, especially considering the dismal week he had suffered. His inability to attend any events because of a lack of invitations, while entirely understandable, did nothing to help his increasingly futile quest to gain some respectability. The clubs proved equally fruitless, given that his father had managed to get his membership revoked at just about every respectable establishment in London. But all of this paled compared to the outrageous behavior of his mother, whose exploits he’d only caught wind of in the scandal sheets. Far from playing the grieving widow, Lady Dalton had apparently made a drunken fool of herself at Vauxhall only a few days ago. Upon first returning to England, he’d attempted to call on her at the family townhome, only to be told that she’d barred him from the premises. A rather ridiculous assertion considering that the home was now, in fact, his, but James had assumed she wasn’t quite in her right mind due to his father’s death. It was all quite a maudlin affair, and James had decided to risk a morning ride to calm his nerves despite the rain that threatened, becoming only more morose once the downpour started in earnest. Spotting the gazebo had been a godsend, even more so the lady he spied loitering beneath it. Lady Aircourt looked as beautiful and thunderous as ever, and he was thankful for this second chance she’d given him. Now, he just needed to keep his head together and ignore the flutter of her pretty skirts as they brushed against his shoulder. Thankfully, the cold stone of his improvised seat and the violent shivers threatening to run through him went a long way in keeping him focused on the task at hand. He examined the expanse of the empty park for a moment before deciding to start from the beginning. “I am sure you are well aware of my parents’ past scandalous behavior.”
Lady Aircourt sniffed. “I don’t think there is a soul in the entirety of London who isn’t.”
He smiled grimly. “No, I suppose not. They had always been like that, as far as I am aware.” From his very first memories of them, Lord and Lady Dalton had been a frivolously neglectful couple, prancing happily through spending sprees and arguing bitterly in equal measure, usually while he and his sister looked on from whatever corner they were relegated to. “Thankfully, Sophie and I were left to their own devices more often than not as children, so I grew up in relative harmony so long as our parents were not in residence. That all changed once I came of age, of course, and was more aware of our precarious finances. Visiting London in my early adulthood and being forced into their company made things all the worse.”
“I will be fair and say that I’d never heard a word of your own behavior, though I was a young and very sheltered bride at the time with little ear for gossip.”
“I kept a low profile, not wanting to becoming embroiled in whatever mess they got themselves into at any given time. My father had a particularly bad habit of making a fool of himself at all the popular gambling dens.”
“Something obviously changed with you.” The derision in her tone was hard to miss.
“Yes, something did. Though not in the way you’d think.”
