Page 16 of Duke of Silver
“Well,” Lady Winston continued, her tone light and complimentary, “a lovely lady such as yourself, Lady Elizabeth, could make even the dullest of colors look beautiful.”
Elizabeth smiled in return, though a part of her still felt a pang of discomfort. “You’re too kind.”
“Your husband will be a lucky man,” the Countess added, her gaze lingering on Elizabeth a moment too long, that enigmatic air settling over her once more.
Elizabeth’s heart gave a slight jump. She had not mentioned her upcoming marriage, and though the scandal was public knowledge, she wondered how Lady Winston had learned of her specific circumstances. Perhaps she had overheard the conversations earlier, or perhaps word had already spread—after all, news in Town traveled with frightening speed.
The Countess bid them farewell and left, her presence still lingering in Elizabeth’s thoughts even as the modiste continued assisting them with the rest of their shopping.
By the time they returned home, laden with packages and exhausted from the day’s exertions, the memory of Lady Winston’s odd demeanor had begun to fade. But Elizabeth still felt the echo of her unease as she prepared for the evening.
A little before dinner, she sought out her aunt, feeling the need for quiet company. She found Petunia in one of the salons, sipping on a glass of brandy, the fire crackling gently in the hearth.
“Would you care for a drink?” Petunia asked, a teasing glint in her eye.
“No, thank you, Auntie,” Elizabeth declined with a smile, taking a seat beside her.
“You’re no fun,” Petunia pouted in mock disappointment, her lips curling into a smile. “Anna would never say no to liquor.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Well, Anna is... Anna.”
They shared a quiet laugh, and for a moment, Elizabeth simply enjoyed the warmth of the room, the quiet crackle of the fire, and the comforting presence of her aunt. But Petunia’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the slight tension in her niece’s expression.
“Are you all right, dear?” she asked, setting her glass down and giving Elizabeth her full attention.
“Oh, all is well, Auntie,” Elizabeth assured her, though there was a faint waver in her voice. She reached for her aunt’s hand. “I just wanted to thank you again for today. For everything.”
“Rubbish,” Petunia dismissed with a wave of her hand. “It’s only my duty.”
“But you’re helping us cut costs,” Elizabeth pressed gently. “And that means more than you know.”
Petunia’s smile softened, her gaze distant for a moment as she swirled her glass. “What your uncle has done for me over the years is more than I could ever repay him for.”
Elizabeth looked at her aunt curiously, sensing a depth to her words she hadn’t fully appreciated before.
“I know what it is to grow up without parents, Lizzy,” Petunia continued, her voice quieter now, tinged with a sadness Elizabeth hadn’t often heard. “But thank goodness, you and Peggy have your uncle. A man with a kind and generous heart.”
Elizabeth nodded, her heart heavy with gratitude for her uncle. “Indeed,” she agreed softly.
Petunia’s gaze grew distant again, and when she spoke, her voice held the weight of old memories. “I was raised by distant relatives after my parents passed. It wasn’t the best of times. Bitter years, really. But I never gave in to despair. I found love, eventually. Married. But happiness can be so fleeting... My husband passed not long after.”
Elizabeth’s heart clenched at her aunt’s quiet confession. She had known Petunia had been widowed twice, but she hadn’t known the full extent of her aunt’s sorrows.
“Your uncle Sebastian sought me out,” Petunia said, her smile faint but full of affection. “He was my long-lost cousin, and he became my sole support during those years of grief. When I married again, it was for convenience, and that husband too wastaken from me. But through it all, Sebastian was there. He never left my side.”
Elizabeth reached across the table and took her aunt’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I never knew, Auntie. I’m so sorry.”
Petunia patted her hand with a small smile, though her eyes shimmered with unspoken emotion. “What would we do without your uncle Sebastian?”
Elizabeth sighed, her heart full of gratitude. “Thank God for him,” she whispered.
Petunia nodded, raising her glass once more. “To Sebastian,” she said softly, before downing her brandy and pouring herself another.
CHAPTER 7
If Lord Dowshire possessed even a fraction of the pride his niece harbored, Alexander knew the Earl would undoubtedly reject the stipend and insist on the acceptance of Elizabeth’s dowry.
It was precisely for this reason that Alex had refrained from broaching the subject when he’d made his offer to marry her. He’d expected resistance, and sure enough, a letter arrived from Dowshire, addressing the dowry. Anticipating a stubborn refusal, Alexander invited the Earl for a drink, thinking it best to discuss the matter in person.
