Page 21 of Miss Hawthorne’s Unlikely Husband (The Troublemakers Trilogy #3)

Regina smiled at her, her eyes bright with sympathy, but Elodia couldn’t take comfort in it.

Not while her stomach was still squirming like knotted eels.

After all these years, and all her effort, she was still an ‘almost’.

Still, somehow, she was something shameful, as if they wouldn’t be lucky to have her.

She returned to her seat and waited until the guests were reasonably engrossed in the young lady currently playing Fur Elise, before removing herself from the room entirely.

“Running away early?” a voice came down the corridor.

She turned to see Leo Kingston, or Lord Starkley as he was now called, watching her with some amusement. “I only needed a moment. I won’t go far.”

“After that performance, I’d say you earned it.” He nodded down the hall. “There is a sitting room back there.”

She nodded her thanks and followed his instructions.

As promised, the room was unoccupied, and the window was open, allowing a cool breeze from the garden to enter.

Almost. It was a word that haunted her. Nothing surprising there.

Her father’s title didn’t fully make up for her skin color, her face didn’t fully make up for her figure, or lack thereof.

Richard almost saw her as worthy to be a wife.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have tried to have too much when the nobility was so determined to keep her out.

Her nose wasn’t pressed up against the glass exactly, but her ear was certainly to the parlor door.

Not barred entry entirely but not fully welcome.

Why was she trying so hard to be accepted by them?

They didn’t have much of anything she wanted.

She’d never dreamt of being a countess or a viscountess.

She’d only ever dreamt of a marriage like the one her parents had enjoyed.

One full of love, passion, kindness, laughter and respect.

When had that turned into a marriage the ton would respect?

As if they had ever respected her. It could be pride.

She’d wanted Richard, but if she couldn’t have the man her heart wanted, then the man she settled for shouldn’t be beneath her social rank.

Of course, she didn’t have to settle at all.

She had money and friends. As long as she stayed single, she was her father’s daughter and a member of the nobility.

But she would be on her own while everyone else was happily paired up with the love of their lives.

Ada had already delivered two children, and Regina was about to deliver her own.

She sat there in green silk, her full belly brazenly apparent to all, despite social convention, utterly victorious in her new role as the Baroness Starkley.

It seemed only Elodia was destined to be left alone while the man who had her heart went on to marry someone else.

And now it was becoming more obvious that her lack of allure was not unique to Richard.

Indeed, she could not manage to find any man to consider her on her own.

She would have to bring in her father and ask him to make arrangements for her.

It was what she had feared since childhood: the notion of a husband who wanted her for everything but herself.

When she was younger, she had pitied Regina and her arranged marriage.

Now she wasn’t sure Captain Mason hadn’t been wise to secure her a match when she was so young. At least her future had been certain.

Was that worth it? Surely it was better to be on her own and not even bother with anyone else rather than risk a bad match.

What was the point of her advantages if she would throw them away over something so wholly unequal to what she had now?

She sighed and rubbed her hand over her forehead.

Would it be enough to simply have a husband and children?

Would it make it easier to see everyone else with their loved ones while she was with a man her father had forced down the aisle by leveraging his position?

Was it a blessing that no one had arrived?

What she was looking for wasn’t something they could give, so she would let it go.

She would do what she had planned to do before the kiss, namely staying close to Aunt Theo and Isolde.

There was no point waiting here anymore.

The last thing she needed was someone coming to look for her.

It would only lead to more questions she wasn’t prepared to answer.

She stood, shook out her skirts and started for the door.

“Mama, please,” a man said. Was that Mr. Lewis?

“I will not discuss this any further,” his mother snapped. “I am not having that bastard girl as my daughter-in-law, I don’t care what your father says or who her father is.”

Elodia pressed herself against the door frame, listening intently to the conversation. Who on earth were they discussing?

“Her dowry is substantial, and she’s a good sort, and even Papa—”

“I forbid it. Honestly, it’s bad enough Melbroke insists on inflicting his island dalliance on decent people, but I draw the line at allowing her to take over my home.”

Melbroke? Were they talking about her?! The utter cheek of the woman!

Lady Lewis continued, “Enjoy her music when you can, but there will be no more dances, do you hear me? I have already been made a laughingstock enough over this ridiculous fixation.”

“I do not think anyone would see us as a laughingstock.”

“Do you see anyone else pursuing her? Dancing with her? Have you heard about anyone calling on her?”

A gasp caught in Elodia’s throat as her stomach turned. Was this a widespread belief? Did the entire ton think this?

“No,” Mr. Lewis admitted quietly.

“Do you imagine it is because they are all too afraid to seize some great prize? No. It is precisely because she is of inferior birth. You are a sweet boy, my dear, but you are not wise to these things. You must consider more than your own wants when choosing who will be the mother of your children.”

“Yes, Mama,”

“Any animal can wear a pretty dress and pound out notes on a piano. Breeding is about a good deal more.”

Bastard girl…

Elodia stayed frozen where she was by the door, refusing to move until she knew they were both gone. Melbroke’s island dalliance? Was that how they saw her? She had been called many things in her life, none of them complimentary, but never a bastard.

A bastard? It was impossible. There was no way they all believed that.

No way her father would have allowed her reputation to be demeaned, to say nothing of her mother’s.

There had to be a misunderstanding. Could he allow the woman he loved to be shamed in such a way simply because she was dead?

Why bring Elodia to England if he wasn’t going to claim her?

She rejoined the party in the salon, taking a chair in the back of the room.

Her hands were numb, her stomach ready to retch its contents all over the floor.

Any animal can wear a pretty dress. Somehow, that wasn’t the most hurtful thing Lady Lewis had said.

The sentiment was perfectly in keeping with any white member of the ton, let alone the nobility.

No doubt she was only here at Regina and Leo’s soiree because of their alliance with the Sterlings and her father.

“Ellie?” She glanced up to see her father standing beside her.

When had he come over? Those blue eyes which had once been a source of comfort now made her uneasy.

This man who had raised her with so much love and care, had he lied to her or to everyone else?

What did he mean by his behavior? Did he love and cherish her as he had always claimed to or was he a particularly good liar?

Was she not his legitimate child or was he ashamed of his youthful dissension now that he was back in England? “Sweetheart, what is it?”

She opened her mouth to speak but her throat tightened painfully.

Melbroke’s island dalliance. Was that truly what she was or was that what he had made her?

Was that how he saw her and her mother? Who was this creature she’d called father for her whole life?

Who had her mother died and left her with?

Even if she asked him, could she trust his answers at all?

“Are you ill?” he asked. She nodded then allowed herself to be bundled off into their carriage while her father made apologies to Regina and Leo.

She couldn’t help but notice the stares now, especially from Mr. Lewis and his parents.

Were all their compliments truly only due to her father’s rank and nothing else?

Just fear of his ire. If he was willing to defend her to such an extent, did that mean he truly cared for her?

Or was that simply because he saw her as an extension of himself?

She had imagined any coolness she faced among the ton to be over her race and her mother’s life as a slave before her freedom.

Now it seemed her dignity hung by an even more precarious thread than she had ever imagined.

Not just mixed race but the bastard daughter of a slave?

Her body kept shifting from hot to cold as her mind reeled with sickening questions.

She didn’t want to look at him or answer any questions, so she leaned against the cool glass window of the carriage and pretended to fall asleep.

When they got home, she roused herself enough to get to her bedroom where her lady’s maid Béa was awaiting her.

When Béa walked away with her dress and undergarments, Elodia caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, stripped of her jewelry and her silks, her coiled hair falling about her shoulders.

No crinoline to hide her nonexistent hips or the grotesque spectacle of her bottom and thighs.

No gathers or pleats to amplify her flat chest. Small and dark and unfeminine.

Bastard.

Almost. Almost legitimate. Claimed socially but not legally. Almost good enough. Almost lovable.

How arrogant had she been to think she deserved anything. How na?ve to imagine her father was any different to the other white men she was determined to avoid. How blind had she been to miss all the signs.

She turned away from the image and crawled into her bed, buring her wet face in her pillow and pulling the covers over her head as her heart finally shattered.

Her sobs echoed in the room unfettered, unabated as loneliness filled her heart.

She hadn’t known how unfortunate she’d been to lose her mother so soon.

Her mother’s death had left her an orphan surrounded by luxury and yet more disconsolate and abandoned than ever before.

Had she known? Had she realized that the man she loved was the sort of person who would do something like this? If she had lived, if Elodia’s little brother had been born, would her father have done more? Would anything have been different or would her father’s betrayal have felt the same?