Page 51 of The Curious Life of the Unfortunate Duchess
The words did seem to calm her and suddenly Elizabeth felt much better. She lifted her head and dried her eyes hastily.
“Forgive me, Cora,” she murmured. “I believe I am overtired.”
“I will fetch you some warm milk,” Cora suggested crisply, untangling herself from around Elizabeth’s shoulder.
Warm milk will not solve my heartache,she wanted to yell after the abigail.The only thing which will cure me is staying here at Brookside.
Yet she knew that would not stop her from feeling a loss for her own family if she chose to remain in Pembroke. Elizabeth took a deep, shuddering breath and chided herself to pull herself together.
There is one week remaining. A lot can occur in one week.
Elizabeth had no idea how right she was.
Chapter 17
Catherine had not exaggerated the Smitherson gala in the least. It was more extravagant than Elizabeth had envisioned, although she did not know why she had doubted Catherine’s description.
Elizabeth had attended many balls and while the wedding in Fife had been quite close to the most elaborate affair she had ever seen, the Smitherson gala put to it to shame. It was plain to see the splendor even as the coach arrived at the sprawling estate.
The Smithersons were an old, renowned name in Pembroke and while they did not claim noble blood, they did share the aristocratic prestige of the peers, something they apparently made no secret of when hosting their annual gala. It was one of the most well known in London Season although Elizabeth had never had occasion to go herself.
It made her consider how much she and David had missed while tending to Frances. While Elizabeth did feel as though her life had suffered by not attending such events, she was consumed with the idea that she would not soon forget the Smitherson gala if she never again returned in the future.
Never had Elizabeth seen so many candles in one place, nary a spot without as far as the eye could see. She felt enraptured in a fairy tale world among the flickering of the light despite the fact that night had not fallen entirely over the vast manor house.
The landscaping was alive, the large hedges clipped to depict cheerful animals, or shocking beasts while an array of blooming flowers of various species filled her nostrils with delicious scents. Elizabeth could not imagine how many hours of work were involved in the craftmanship behind the glorious gardens. It made her slightly dizzy to think about.
For a moment, Elizabeth was struck by a touch of sadness. She wished that Leonard was there to see such a spectacular sight. Their time together was about to come to an end and she longed to spend every minute she could with him before they parted ways. Before she could dwell on her thought too deeply, Frances chirped into her ear.
“Come along, Liza! We must get to the party!”
Shockingly, the ladies were among the earliest to arrive, despite Catherine’s insistence that they wait until the very last moment to depart from Brookside. She had declared that if they arrived early, they would be regarded as unimportant and therefore dismissed.
In truth, Elizabeth did not much care what the others thought of her as there was a lingering sense of foreboding which gripped her stomach. She dared not speak her mind to Catherine who was as excited as Frances for the event.
Leonard’s discussion with her the previous evening still rang clearly in Elizabeth’s ears. If the gala made Catherine happy, if only for a night, who was Elizabeth to discount the affair? If Leonard was correct, Catherine was apt to fall back into a pit of melancholy upon their departure. The Duke’s sister should have the happy recollection of that night to recall in their absence.
Elizabeth admitted to herself that the event was bound to be memorable and she was determined not to let her sorrowful thoughts affect their evening.
Tonight we relish in the Smithersons’ hard work. Tomorrow you will concern yourself with matters of the heart.
They were greeted by Mr. Edgar Smitherson and his frail wife, Christina, at the elegant entranceway. He was a stunningly tall man with a long moustache and balding head and she a mere waif, ready to be whisked away with the first harsh wind.
“Lady Catherine!” Mr. Smitherson announced, his eyes wide with surprise. “I daresay, I did not expect to see you here.”
Catherine’s own eyes narrowed and she studied him suspiciously.
“Our household did receive an invitation. Is my presence a problem?” Catherine asked with undue anger. Elizabeth placed a hand on her arm and smiled at their hosts. She knew Catherine was acting defensively without cause.
“Certainly not!” Edgar laughed. “We are delighted you are here. Is the Duke with you? The Duchess?”
“No, I am afraid I have only brought with me Miss Frances Follett and her sister, Miss Elizabeth, daughters to the Viscount of Gordon. Will that suffice?”
Elizabeth cringed but nodded as the Smithersons returned the introduction.
“Miss Follett, Miss Elizabeth, may I present my wife, Mrs. Christina Smitherson?”
“Charmed, Mrs. Smitherson,” Elizabeth interjected, nodding before Catherine could add any more scathing remarks to the conversation. It was the first time she was seeing the animus of which Leonard had spoken the previous day.
