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“He should be angry,” Ellie wailed between the hands she pressed to her face.
Lizzy May sighed. “And now I must begin anew repairing his relationship with his mother. I very much wish that woman was a touch less selfish and a sight less interfering.”
Ellie sobbed into her hands.
“Oh, Ellie, it will all sort itself out eventually,” Lizzy May soothed.
Ellie continued to sob.
“We’ll have tea,” Lizzy May continued in that overly cheery voice. “And then you can go to your room and pack. I’ll send along some maids to help.”
“Pack?” Ellie blurted, looking up.
“To return to the country. We’re leaving in the morning.”
“Tomorrow morning? But, the trial isn’t for weeks.” And if they left London, she would have no chance to see Samuel. She didn’t wish to see him, liar that he was, but she also didn’t wish to have no possibility of seeing him. And if the trial didn’t go well, that lack of possibility would extend for all time. Tears slid down her cheeks. “Won’t we stay for the trial?”
“Unmarried young ladies do not attend trials,” Lizzy May said firmly.
“But…”
But what if she wanted to see him one time more? What if, despite what the paper said about bank accounts and mistresses, and despite how he’d tried to get Ellie to run off with him, Samuel was innocent? His trial would end, and he would come searching for her, and she would be gone.
“You cannot be seen at Mr. Carmichael’s trial,” Lizzy May continued. “If he’s not cleared of the charges, if he’s not a good man, he won’t marry you, and being seen hanging about his trial, mooning over him, will cement the ruin of your reputation. You’ll never find a worthwhile husband.”
Even if Samuel didn’t marry her, Ellie didn’t want a different husband. She wanted to remain in London to see him again.
“The Duke arrived hardly a week past. He can’t possibly wish to depart so soon.”
“Matthew is already quite ready for a break from London,” Lizzy May said, her voice edged with reprimand.
Ellie looked down.
“We’re leaving tomorrow, as are Mother, Roslyn and Marie. This scandal has put a pall over their Season as well, and truly the Season is nearly over. You may go with them, or come with me, but you are leaving London, Ellie. Mother and I have already decided.”
Ellie looked back up, chagrined.
“Mother and you?”
Lizzy May wasn’t even the eldest. Roslyn was.
“You will pack after tea and we will leave London tomorrow,” Lizzy May said firmly.
Ellie stood. “I’ll pack now.” She stalked to the door, then looked back. “You’re going to make a very mean mother.”
Lizzy May’s mouth dropped open.
Satisfied she’d made her point, Ellie returned to her room. Not waiting for the maids Lizzy May would surely send, she started pulling gowns from her wardrobe and throwing them onto the bed. Some of them, she hadn’t even had the opportunity to wear.
Well, there was always next Season.
Except… Ellie sighed, her frantic movements slowing. Would she truly do it all again? Come to London, go to the balls and the garden parties and concerts and dinners, looking for a gentleman to replace Samuel in her affections? Was that even possible?
She sank down on the bed next to the haphazard heap of gowns. He’d come to see her. He’d been there, in the same house with her, and she’d been denied the chance to look upon his face. To hear his voice, or watch him push his glasses up on his nose.
Would a guilty man really come to see her, in the Duke of Aspen’s home, no less? And what about her? She squared her shoulders. Could she really be such a fool as to fall in love with an illusion? The Samuel Carmichael she knew would never steal from anyone, or keep a mistress. Especially not a French one. He couldn’t even speak French.
Unlike his brother.
