Page 11 of Her Daring Earl
“Nothing to concern yourself with, ladies. I was simply gambling.”
“You do not like to gamble,” Eliza said, and he turned to her in astonishment.
“Why would you think that?” he asked, mostly surprised that she would know so much about him and wondering why she had paid such close attention.
“Baxter loves to play cards and you always refuse to join in,” she said. It was too dark to see her expression, but her tone was challenging him to prove her wrong. “You only gamble if you are betting on yourself in a competition of skill.”
He opened his mouth to respond, before shutting it firmly once more. She was right. And yet he didn’t think it was something anyone else had ever noticed.
“Well,” Lady Willoughby said as they pulled up in front of Fitz’s townhouse. “No more taking late-night gambles walking alone, do you hear me, Lord Fitzroy?”
“Agreed, Lady Willoughby,” he said. “Thank you for the escort. And thank you again for your assistance.”
“Assistance?” Eliza repeated, those blue-green eyes of hers wide in the light that emerged from the open door of his townhouse. He didn’t need to turn around to know that at least one of his sisters stood in the doorway, likely wondering just whose carriage had conveyed him home at this time of night. “We saved your life!”
“Very well,” he said with a sigh. “Thank you for saving my life.”
He turned, finding four pairs of eyes upon him, and he left the two women behind to face the eight that awaited him within.
It had already been a long night, and he had a feeling that it wasn’t over yet.
Eliza pacedthe drawing room the next morning.
The sun was shining through the front window, the floral arrangements her mother ensured were well tended backdropping the landscape beyond, and she had every reason to welcome the day ahead.
Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Fitz’s story from last night.
She shouldn’t care. She should leave it be and allow him to deal with it.
And yet, she was friends with his sisters. She owed it to them to make sure all was well.
At least, that was what she told herself.
“Mother!” she called up the staircase, wishing her mother would descend earlier in the mornings. Eliza spent far too much time waiting for her.
“Yes?” came her mother’s voice, trilling from upstairs.
“Do you have plans for today?”
“Not at the moment.”
“We should visit Lady Fitzroy.”
Her mother appeared at the top of the stairs, a vision in dark pink, her hair still as dark and curly as Eliza’s own. Eliza was fortunate to share so many of her mother’s traits.
“Lady Fitzroy?” her mother repeated, raising her brows.
“I would like to ensure all is well after last night. And I had such good conversations with Henrietta and Sloane at the dance. I wouldn’t mind seeing them again.”
Her mother slowly descended the staircase, finally stopping at the bottom landing. “This has nothing to do with Lord Fitzroy?”
“No,” Eliza said, trying to appear affronted. “Why would it?”
Her mother eyed her knowingly as she swept past her. “You were very concerned when he appeared injured last night.”
“He is a family friend!” Eliza protested.
“Yes, that he is,” her mother said, walking into the breakfast room, even though it was now past noon. Eliza followed her, taking a seat as she watched her mother fill her plate from the sideboard. “However, a family friend can make as good of a match – if not better – than most gentlemen. We know him, we know his family, and he is a good man.”
