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He offered his arm and escorted her with every appearance of pleasure past the footmen holding open the doors, down the steps and into the carriage. She was swept by a terrifying thought — they would be alone in the carriage and perhaps he would take advantage of the opportunity to make love to her, or even to kiss her. How awkward that would be. But to her relief, he settled on the seat opposite her.
Once they were in motion, he said affably, “Prepare to be asked many questions this evening. My family want to know everything about you and I have been unable to tell them much more than that you grew up in Westmorland and now live in Bath.”
“There is very little more to tell.”
“Now there I cannot agree with you,” he said, in the same genial tone. “I feel certain there is a great deal more to discover about Miss Eloise Whittleton, and I look forward to finding it all out, in time. I want to know everything about you.”
Was there any bitterness in his words? He would be justified, she well knew, but she could detect only sincerity in his voice.
Before she could reply, he went on, “Apart from my family, Tibbs and Hatts are to dine with us tonight, in gratitude for their help with Somerwell last night. They brought him round and spirited him away quietly.”
“Was he observed?” she said quickly. “He was rather dishevelled, and his lip was cut. He is so particular about his appearance that he would have found it mortifying to be seen in such a state.”
“I hope he was not. He sent a brief note this morning that he was obliged to go out of town and so would have to forego the pleasure of Miss Fletcher’s company for a while, so at least he has no plans to call me out for knocking him down.”
“No! He would not… would he? Surely you were the one with the right to ask for satisfaction.”
“He might argue that he was only pressing his suit upon Rosie, as he had been given permission to do, and I had no business to impose such savagery upon his elegant person. But if he has chosen to hide away in the country, I will not chase after him with my duelling pistols. He has clearly accepted that he was in the wrong.”
“It is more likely that he is keeping out of sight until his bruises have healed,” she said. “He seems to me to be a very vain man, with whom such a matter would be of weighty consideration.”
He agreed to it, and as they had now reached Grosvenor Square, no more was said. The butler and a pair of footmen emerged to receive them, and two more footmen relieved her of her cloak. An older man awaited them in the hall, whom Eloise had no difficulty in identifying as the senior Mr Fletcher. He was a well-preserved gentleman, a rather fine looking man, despite a full head of grey hair, and not at all elderly in appearance. She had an unexpected glimpse into the future, for surely Will would look very much like this, one day.
“Miss Whittleton, I can’t tell you how delighted I am to meet you at last,” the elder Mr Fletcher said with a strong Yorkshire accent, taking her hands in his, “and under such pleasant circumstances, too. Will’s been evading matrimony far longer than I’ve liked. I married young and have been extolling the virtues of the married state to him for years. It’s the greatest pleasure to me that he’s finally listened to my advice. Will you step into my office for a moment? I have a small matter to discuss with you.”
Her stomach lurched in fear. What would he say to her? Was he about to press her to let Will go? For surely he must dislike what she had done, for all his professions of pleasure.
“We’ve been drafting a notice for the newspapers, but we’ve no idea how to describe your father.‘Mr Whittleton of Westmorland’won’t quite do. What is his full name?”
A notice for the newspapers! It would have to be done, but she quailed suddenly at the enormity of what she had done. “Must he be mentioned?”
“Not if you dislike it, but it’s the usual thing. Your uncle perhaps?”
She scanned the notice quickly. “Can you not simply say,‘Miss Eloise Whittleton of Lansdown Road, Bath’?”
“Of course, if you wish it. When would you like it put into the newspapers? You’ll want time to write to your relations first, I imagine, so they don’t find it out from theGazette.”
A brief reprieve. “Yes… yes. A few days. A week, perhaps.”
“Of course, my dear. Whatever you think best. Shall we go upstairs and see the ladies?”
More footmen loitered on the landing to throw open the drawing room doors.
“Here she is, here she is!” cried a female voice. “Here is our new sister.” Eloise found herself wrapped in a tight embrace. Angie, of course, the excitable younger daughter.
“Careful, Miss Mischief!” Will said. “This is Angie, the troublemaker of the family, always up to her tricks, so you will need all your wits about you, Miss Whittleton.”
“Oh, no! No tricks, not here!” cried Angie. “I dare not, for Mama would send me home in an instant, and I could not bear that. I am being very good, am I not, Mama?”
“So far,” Mrs Fletcher said cautiously.
“And this is Rosie,” Will said.
Rosie curtsied decorously, smiling. They were all smiling.
“Come and meet everyone,” Angie said, taking her arm and towing her round the room. Eloise glanced at Will, but he was beaming genially at his sister. Rosie stood on her other side as they circled the room, but said nothing, only smiling shyly up at her. They were so diminutive, the sisters, that Eloise felt like a giant.
She was introduced to the third sister, the middle one, Julia, who was as different from her sisters as could be, and tall enough to look Eloise in the eye. Her betrothed, James Plummer, was a pleasant looking man. The beautiful younger brother was there, too, and Tibbs and Hatts, Will’s two friends, who bounded out of their seats and professed themselves delighted to meet her again.
