Page 23

Seventeen

Life was meant to go on as it had before Simon Cavell had come into Eliza’s life.

She awoke the day after their night out convinced that it would.

She missed him. She had expected to miss him, but that didn’t mean she would allow herself to wallow in her feelings.

She promised herself that this time her good angel would win.

The poor thing deserved an occasional win, even if Eliza wasn’t completely happy with the idea of her winning.

She stumbled down to the drawing room the next morning. She had spent what little was left of the night tossing and turning in a restless sleep that had made her irritable but resolved to get on with things. Her mother and sister were already there.

“Good morning, darling.” Her mother looked up from her newspaper and offered her cheek for a kiss.

She had folded her curvy frame into an armchair with a cup of coffee balanced on the plush upholstery.

The creamy liquid in the cup smelled like heaven, much nicer than the strong and bitter brew she had shared with Simon.

Eliza dutifully gave her a peck on the cheek. “Good morning, Mama, Jenny.”

Jenny sat on the sofa, also swathed in a dressing gown, a slight but knowing smile on her face as her gaze tracked Eliza to the silver tray service that held an extra cup along with the cream and sugar she’d need to make herself a proper cup of coffee.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Fanny asked.

“Yes, how are you feeling?” Jenny echoed the sentiment but with a certain tone that Eliza didn’t appreciate.

It made her think her sister had come into her bedroom and found her gone.

Jenny wouldn’t tell anyone, but she would have many questions, and Eliza didn’t know how much she was prepared to share.

Her feelings for Simon had changed over the course of the night and become deep and complicated in ways she wasn’t ready to examine.

“Better, I think, tired still but no headache.” Eliza prepared her coffee and avoided looking directly at her sister as she made her way to the sofa.

“Good, you really don’t want to miss many nights out,” her mother said. “Once you’re married, Mainwaring will undoubtedly tag along and—no offense, darling—he’s a bore.”

He was a bore. Eliza brought the cup to her lips and savored the first creamy sip. She’d need it to fortify herself, because even thinking about being faced with Mainwaring every day and not Simon’s mischievous grin was not settling well with her.

“What is it he said at the house party?” Fanny asked.

Jenny sat up straighter and cleared her throat.

Affecting an upper-class English accent that Eliza was convinced was taught to these men at their boarding schools, she said, “?‘Tea in the afternoon is a digestive boon, Miss Eliza, but do not be seduced by the heady flavor. Imbibe any later in the day and ’twill have quite the opposite effect than one intended. One shall find’—”

Eliza held up her hand to stop the recitation.

“Thank you for that reminder.” He had gone on to lecture them for nearly ten whole minutes on the delicacies of their digestive tracts and how weak bone broths and the avoidance of spices was necessary to preserve their health.

She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d given any thought to his own health during his coffeehouse visits.

Fanny and Jenny dissolved into bouts of laughter, but Eliza couldn’t find the humor in the situation.

It wasn’t the fact that he was boring that bothered Eliza.

Had he gone on about the intricacies of tea production or had he been a purveyor of dietary health to a scientific degree because it was some great passion of his, she could have latched on to his lecture and found some glimmer of information that she hadn’t known to explore.

But it was the pomposity of his delivery that had stuck with her.

She imagined herself surrounded by a table of their offspring fifteen years into the future while he lectured them on the proper drinking of tea.

Or— heaven forbid! —what if she’d become a convert at that point and delivered the speech herself?

What would she be like after a lifetime with him?

Would she be her own person or would he have bent her to his will?

What would it be like to raise children with him? To create children with him?

“Do you suppose he knows the meaning of the word seduce ?” she blurted out.

The laughter stopped and everyone was silent. Jenny raised her hand and settled it gently on her shoulder. “Oh, Eliza.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, darling,” Fanny said, setting her newspaper and coffee aside. She rose and joined them on the sofa, sitting on Eliza’s other side. “If it helps, Charles didn’t know, either.”

“Ugh!” Eliza groaned at the same time Jenny said, “ Mother .”

Fanny rolled her eyes. “You both behave as if you were raised by Puritans. Sexual congress between two people can be pleasurable; it should be pleasurable. We’ve talked about this.”

“Yes, we’ve talked about this, but I don’t want to know anything about Mr. Hathaway,” Jenny said.

Fanny sighed. “In this case it is important. Charles is no viscount, but he is from a prominent family. That’s applicable because he believes himself to be better, and his family and everyone around him fosters that sort of belief.”

“Why is that important?” Eliza asked.

“Because it means that he was accustomed to everyone handing things to him. He never had to work for anything and that includes women. You see it with handsome men often. But in Charles’s case he was both handsome and wealthy, and not by his own means.

He came to me with a sort of expectation. He expected to be served, if you will.”

They both groaned.

Fanny rolled her eyes again but carried on. “So I made him serve me instead. No one had ever done that before. Made him work for anything, I mean. He thrived on the praise and rose to the challenge well. He was very good at—”

“Say no more!” Jenny said.

“Fine,” Fanny said. “All this to say, don’t discount your viscount yet. It is entirely likely that he may come around.”

Eliza did her best not to focus on the content of her mother’s words. Instead, she turned her attention to the sentiment. “But isn’t the opposite also possible? That he won’t rise to the challenge? He’ll already have me, so to speak, so there will be no need to challenge himself.”

Fanny gave a nod of agreement. “It’s possible, but we don’t know him well enough to say.”

Eliza was afraid that she did know him. She feared very much that she was walking into this marriage with her eyes wide open and she knew exactly what she would be getting.

Fanny must have seen her fear, because she took her hand. “Do you remember when we went to Paris and bought you girls those gowns?”

After Cora had married, they had gone to Paris to visit Mrs. Wilson, Fanny’s friend who had taken over Jenny’s musical education.

While there, they had paid a visit to House of Worth to have ball gowns made.

Fanny had never been very clear on where the money for those gowns had come from, but the inkling of suspicion that had tugged at the back of her mind then raised its head.

“Yes?” Eliza asked.

“I paid Charles a visit. I tried to reason with him. Cora had married Devonworth and I assumed…well, I hoped that an earl would be enough to placate him. I reminded him that you girls deserved your inheritances from your grandmother and you shouldn’t be required to marry as he sees fit to receive them.

I’m certain you can imagine his reply. He did fund the gowns, however. ”

“Our father, our hero.” Jenny’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“My point is that you have two choices, darling,” Fanny continued.

“Marry Mainwaring and receive your inheritance, or don’t.

If you do choose to marry him, then go into the marriage hopeful for the best. You never know what could be possible, and you’ll only give into despair if you expect anything less. ”

Eliza was as confounded as she was uplifted by her mother’s eternally upbeat outlook.

Despite growing up with few advantages, the woman had managed to live a full life that had seen her children taken care of and educated and one of them married to an earl.

It wasn’t a life Eliza would have chosen for herself, but it was a life that had seen more happiness than sorrow, and she didn’t know if anyone could ask for more than that.

“What will happen to us if I don’t marry him?” she asked.

Her mother shrugged. “Don’t look too far into the future. It only leads to sadness.”

“But someone must. Mama, this is more money than most people see in a lifetime.” This is what happened when she allowed her good angel to win.

She asked responsible questions about the future.

“Did you ask Mr. Hathaway about Bedford College again?” Eliza had very reasonably offered to take less of her inheritance if her father funded her college attendance.

“The same. I’m afraid he’s got his mind set on noblemen and he won’t entertain any other sort of future for you girls. He doesn’t even want to hear that Jenny is a mesmerizing soprano with perfect pitch.”

“Then I don’t have a choice, do I? What will become of me if I don’t get my inheritance? What will become of you and Jenny?”

“Darling, Jenny will have a fine career. You don’t need to worry about her.”

“And…” Jenny grinned. “Our mother has caught the eye of a certain Lord Ballachulish.”

“Lord who?”

“Jenny, no, that is not the least bit true.” Though their mother denied it, she was blushing prettily.