Page 36 of Eliza and the Duke
Yours faithfully,
E
She thought of him. The knowledge should not have made him happy, but it did. He’d half assumed that now that her adventure had been complete, she’d go back to her life with little concern for him. That’s what should have happened.
Simon read the note over again at least ten times, trying to read what she hadn’t written. Did she long for more time together as he did? Did she relive their kiss? He closed his eyes and remembered the taste of her mouth beneath his and the feel of her in his arms. There was no telling how long he sat there with the note spread open before him, but someone cleared their throat from the open door of his office.
Dunn stood there. “Ready?” he asked.
Simon glanced at the clock on the cabinet. Bugger it. He’d sat there so long he was running late. Dunn accompanied him to Whitechapel to see Daisy most days. It was always best to go there with others if at all possible.
“No, I need a few minutes more,” Simon answered.
Dunn grumbled but left him alone. Simon selected a sheet of paper from the basket on his desk and took up his pen.
Dear E,
The words stopped after that. What was he to say? He should wish her well. He should keep his tone even and impenetrable as he warned her away. She was barely more than a girl, and she fancied that she felt more for him than she did. She didn’t love him any more than he loved her…but, God, what he did feel was sweeter and bitterer than anything he’d ever felt before. He needed some inkling of her true feelings.
The ink in his pen had created an unsightly blotch, so he picked up a new sheet of paper and started again.
My dearest Eliza,
And how shall I find you there?
Yours,
S
He folded the letter into an envelope. He didn’t write a return address on the outside. Instead, he simply wroteS. Leybourne.
He existed in a dream world until he received her reply. Train, visit Daisy, work. His routine was the same as ever, only Eliza was even more present than before. Her reply came two days later.
My dearest Simon,
You shall find me in half agony, half hope.
Yours faithfully,
E
He smiled when he read it. This time he’d closed the door as soon as he saw the envelope on his desk. He’d snatched itup and opened it before he’d even sat down. He did so now, however, sliding into the oxblood leather chair and devouring the words again.
Half agony, half hope.
He’d been all agony until reading it, knowing that the only way he would ever see her again would be when he happened to pass her in public. Now, inexplicably, hope flickered to life. There was no future for them. That was an unavoidable fact. But that didn’t stop hope from igniting. It did, however, stop him from writing her back.
Half agony, half hope.
The words became his mantra.
Nineteen
It had been over aweek since Eliza had sent her last letter to Simon and over a fortnight since their night in Whitechapel. He still hadn’t written her back. She told herself that his nonreply was answer enough. The one letter he had sent hadn’t been very forthcoming. What more of a response did she need? He didn’t want her.
Though he lingered in her mind, she carefully planned every minute of every day so that she wasn’t sitting around moping. She went to teas and dinners and the theater, and she had her family to keep her occupied in the mornings. Once, she and Jenny had gone to a lecture at the British Museum—Egyptology—and she had managed to have the carriage drive them by Montague Club, but that was as close as she had got to him since their night out in Whitechapel.
Her bad angel had been firmly shoved to the deep recesses of her mind. Even the fantasies that she entertained late at night that Simon might come to her in her room again had been laid to rest now that they had settled into Cora’s home.She was forced to share a bedroom with Jenny here, so there would be none of that even if he was inclined to come to her.
