Page 37 of The Earl's Reluctant Artist
Rose nodded. “Yes, my lady, but only briefly. Five minutes in the servants’ hall, nothing more.”
Eliza studied her reflection in the glass. “And did he…well…did he appear as though my husband had left the manor this morning? Perhaps something in his demeanor?”
Rose paused in her brushing. “I’m sorry, my lady. I could not tell. Mr. Gideon is not a man who shows much in his manner.”
Eliza gave a short, rueful smile. “No. I suppose he is not.” She lifted her eyes to Rose’s in the mirror. “You must not apologize. You were not meant to know.”
Rose returned her focus to the hair, tying it up neatly, while Eliza tried to hold herself steady, even though her thoughts scattered in different directions. Why did she care so much whether Tristan was there or not? Why should his absence trouble her? Was it because, unlike before, she had been the cause of his withdrawal?
That thought lingered uncomfortably in her head, and she hated the way it made her feel. It was like she had wronged him more than she had intended.
“My lady,” Rose said gently, breaking into her thoughts. “I did hear something spoken of in passing. There was mention of a special guest.”
Eliza blinked and turned a little. “A special guest?”
Rose nodded. “Yes. Supposedly, someone is to arrive at the manor this evening. That is all I heard.”
Eliza frowned. “Someone? And is this someone familiar with the manor? Or is this a friend of His Grace?”
“I couldn’t say, my lady. Only that there is to be a guest. The rest was not shared with me.”
Eliza nodded once, settling her hands in her lap. “Very well. Do not trouble yourself further. Thank you, Rose.”
Rose smiled. “Your hair is finished, my lady. You are ready for the morning.”
Eliza rose, straightening her dress before making her way down the hall. The sound of her steps carried softly as she neared the dining room, but her thoughts filled her head with noise. Soon, the doors opened and she stepped inside.
At the long table sat the duke, stern and still, and beside him was Evelyn, bright in her manner as ever. Evelyn looked up at once and raised her brows.
“Darling, what a relief you have joined us,” Evelyn said with a smooth laugh. “I thought we might have to climb the stairs and settle ourselves outside your door to wait.”
Eliza paused, uncertain. “You needn’t have—”
“She is being sarcastic, my dear,” the duke cut in, his tone plain.
“Oh.” Eliza flushed faintly, a nervous smile breaking over her lips. “Yes. Of course.” She gave a light laugh and moved to take her seat.
She could feel Evelyn’s eyes on her as she placed her napkin on her lap, but she said nothing about it. Instead, she moved to a more pressing subject. “Will Tristan be joining us this morning?”
Evelyn leaned back with an amused look. “Tristan could grow a beard in that study of his and no one would ever know.”
Eliza’s heart sank a little. She had been hoping to see him, to find some way to speak, to offer an apology for their quarrel. She glanced at his empty chair, its vacancy too obvious.
After a pause, she cleared her throat. “I was told a guest is expected at Evermere later today.”
The duke looked up, his brows drawing together. “A guest?”
“Yes.”
“I was not aware of that.”
“Oh,” Eliza murmured, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
“Perhaps it is one of Tristan’s military friends. They always wander around these parts once in a while.”
Evelyn gave a small shrug as though it made no difference to her. “We shall see soon enough.” She reached for her bread, then looked to Eliza. “And how was your night, dear?”
“It was fine,” Eliza answered. “Restful.”
