Page 77 of A Torn Allegiance
Lady Sophie cleared her throat. “I think His Grace is looking for me.” With a look of empathy, she moved away.
Prince Hayes obviously expected some sort of further explanation.
“You were conversing with the admiral,” Elsie said instead.
“Yes, I was.”
“I wonder if you might prefer the use of my father’s study so that you might converse freely and not be too concerned someone might overhear bits of your words and then be drawn to walk slower so they might hear... more.” She tried to apologize with her eyes, with her words. She clenched her hands together behind her back, hoping he would understand, but she would not blame him if his estimation of her had lowered because of her actions.
“That is a kind offer. Perhaps I should have thought of such a thing before having a vital conversation dealing with serious matters of my country’s national security in an open corridor. But I never suspected your home would be a place where I would need to take such precautions.” His words were gentle, complimentary even, but they cut Elsie’s confidence to her core, for it was in her home that his private conversations had been most highly scrutinized and discussed, her family who had followed him and spied on him with such dedication to determine his loyalty to England. Guilt tore at her, and she could only nod in response.
The evening continued mildly enough. She sat or stood at Prince Hayes’s side, and all appeared to be well. Even her mother smiled encouragingly at her multiple times throughout the evening, but she could not shake her unease. She was in love with a man she had suspected of some foul play. How exactly did that contribute to a marriage? It didn’t, she suspected. It did not sit well with her, and there was a stiffness about him, a distance. Was she imagining it? Was she seeing her worst fears? Had he lost interest in her so soon after their courtship had begun? She couldn’t blame him if he had.
When most guests had left and he was making his way to the door, she walked with him, hoping for some evidence of his continued caring. He turned and reached for her hand. “I cannot come for our walk in the morning, but tomorrow evening I am invited to Lady Annabeth’s dinner party and ball. I hope I will see you there.”
Inside, she shuddered in dread. She was about to flatly refuse to attend but held her tongue. He would be surrounded by that conniving woman and her friends, and who knew what she would say to try to defame Elsie? But she needed all the time she could muster to try to win back his esteem if she had lost it. Perhaps if she put on her best dress and her even better smiles and conversation, she could show him what he’d liked about her in the first place.
He waited for an answer, so she nodded. “Certainly. I will attend to see you.” She looked away, not wanting him to see the unease that arose at the idea of spending time at that particular ball. She wished him to leave or say something to make it all better orsomething. But she daren’t look at his face until his fingers toyed with a curl near her cheek.
“What is it?” His voice was soft, tender.
“Hmm?” She rocked back and forth from heel to toe. “Nothing. I’m... looking forward to... if not precisely the ball, at least to seeing you again.” She didn’t want to burden him with her dread in attending such an event.
He hesitated, but when she didn’t meet his gaze, he lowered his hand. “Good. Until then.”
She dared a glance. He studied her for a moment more and then made his bows and walked out into the night.
She almost slumped against the wall, but she heard her mother’s voice coming closer and instead ran down the corridor and up the stairs. Tonight had been a nightmare. When at last her bedroom door was shut, Elsie slid down to the floor on its other side and leaned back against the thick, solid wood. What a muddle she’d made of things. Being caught in the act of trying to eavesdrop had opened her eyes and brought every spying moment previous in boldfaced mortification to her view. How could she face Hayes as his wife with such a beginning? But, then, how could she admit to him what she and her family had suspected of him? And, if she were being completely honest in this absurdly painful introspection, she still wondered at some of his actions. Never had she received a satisfactory answer about his strange acquaintances with odd, dangerous people. Though she thought she trusted his motivations, a part of her could not feel satisfied until she knew the reasons, knew his motivations, understood the full story.
So she didn’t trust him. She fell onto her bed. She did trust him.
Abigail’s friendly voice asked, “Will you be wanting to prepare for bed, my lady?”
“Oh, goodness.” Elsie jumped up and placed a hand on her heart. After a few breaths, she nodded. “Yes, please. I might as well get ready for bed as do anything else.”
After a restless night, one of very little sleep and no improvement in the nagging of her conscience, Elsie awoke to terribly puffy eyes, a swollen face, and a rather large blemish in the middle of her chin. “Of course.”
She turned away from the mirror, and then an old familiar angst filled her as she remembered Lady Annabeth’s party. She was the sort of woman Elsie tried to avoid at all costs, as did many others of those who attended her and her mother’s Books for Change events. Women like Lady Annabeth weren’t sympathetic to books and lengthy discussions of meaningful things. They had always kept Elsie at arm’s length, and she had been pleased to be so distanced from them, but her ears burned when she knew they were discussing her, laughing about her causes. She cringed to think of their combined ugly judgment. And to think of her going alone to that woman’s party, looking like this, with puffy eyes and blemishes... She took a deep, shuddering breath. If she could at least appear to her very best advantage, feeling as though she were just as feminine, just as marriage-worthy as they thought themselves to be, perhaps she could enter with more confidence.
She scribbled a missive to Lady Sophie.Please come to Lady Annabeth’s party with me.
The servant who came when she rang bobbed a curtsy.
“Please ask a footman to run this to Lady Sophie’s home and await her response.”
In the meantime, she was in great need of something. A pomade? She shook her head. A better night’s sleep. Some of cook’s headache powders. She sighed. Perhaps she could skip the whole thing after all.
An image of Lady Annabeth on Prince Hayes’s arm at St. James’s sprang immediately to mind. The memory of the woman’s blinking wide eyes staring up into Hayes’s solidified Elsie’s resolve. “I can do this.”
But first she needed to talk with her mother. She slipped down the corridor. The door to her mother’s bedchamber was closed. Elsie rapped quietly.
“Come in.” Her mother’s friendly voice brought a sense of calm.
She tiptoed in and didn’t see her mother anywhere.
“I’m in here.” Mother called from her closet.
Elsie almost laughed when she saw Mother and her maid working together. Her mother rubbed her hands together. “I think that covers it. If you have any questions, please ask. I don’t wish us to be throwing out valuable gowns, but I don’t need the ones I pointed out, and others might.”
