Page 26 of An Earl Like You
The posy had been well received. Eliza thanked him profusely the next time he called in Greenwich, ostensibly on Mr. Cross but in reality on her. He wondered if she had grown suspicious that he always seemed too early or too late to catch her father at home, but if so she never showed it. By now Hugh was convinced she really didn’t know what her father was scheming, and it made him at once both relieved and angry. It was a relief to believe that she was as she seemed, but the more he liked her, the less fair it seemed that she was being fooled. And Hugh wasn’t such an ogre that he didn’t care for her feelings.
On the contrary, he was coming to like her very much. Unlike many society girls, Eliza didn’t act as if any gentleman nearby was obliged to amuse her. She expressed such delight in a simple posy, he couldn’t help wondering what she would say if he presented her with a real gift. She seemed utterly content to spend time in her garden with her dog, and didn’t evince the slightest boredom at living in Greenwich, away from the whirl of society. He told himself it must be easy, with Cross’s vast fortune at her disposal; she needn’t fret about a dark and drab drawing room, as Edith did, or moan about her lack of new gowns, as Henrietta did. But somehow he knew it wasn’t just the money. Eliza wasn’t the type to complain. Instead she gave every appearance of being content with her life and taking joy in small pleasures.
Tonight he would see how she carried herself in society. If she would be his wife, she would have to attend and host events like this one. He’d seen how nervous she was when he first visited Greenwich; would she be the same tonight, in a room full of elegant strangers? It would change nothing about his circumstances, but he found himself hoping very strongly that she would be poised and composed. Everyone would suspect he had married her for her money, but if she were a total failure among theton, they would know it for certain.
He reached the ballroom and found it crowded and stuffy. Lady Thayne wasn’t satisfied unless her parties were described as absolute crushes, so she tended to invite too many people. Hugh wandered through the crowd, greeting acquaintances at every turn, including several friends of his mother’s. He hadn’t told her he was coming tonight, and she would scold him tomorrow. But he kept going until he caught sight of the Crosses.
For a moment he looked right past her. His mind had fixed on her as a plain girl, but when he saw Edward Cross, it gave him a bit of a start to realize the lady beside him was Eliza. Tonight she looked... rather splendid, to be truthful. Her honey-colored hair wasn’t pulled into braids and twists like other girls’, but held in a soft roll at the back of her head. Her gown was deep midnight blue, making her skin look as lustrous as the pearls around her neck. As he watched, she turned her head to smile at her father, and sapphires glittered at her ears.
He strolled toward them. “Good heavens, Mr. Cross,” he said, affecting surprise as he reached them. “And Miss Cross! Good evening to you both.”
Eliza curtsied beautifully. “Lord Hastings! What a delight to see you.”
“See, I told you,” said her father warmly. “Eliza worried we wouldn’t know anyone! She didn’t want to come.”
She gave him a look of veiled reproach. “Papa.”
“I’m very glad you did.” Hugh smiled at her. She beamed back, and he felt an odd sensation in his chest. Tonight she was far from plain.
They talked of nothing for another few minutes, until the musicians began tuning their instruments and couples began forming on the floor for the dance. “Miss Cross, would you honor me with this dance?”
She blushed, just a little, the pink coming into her cheeks. With barely a flutter of her eyelashes, she gave him her hand. “Of course, my lord.”
Hugh could feel Cross’s satisfied gaze upon his back. He ignored it. It was a country dance, an energetic reel that left no time for talking. She danced well, another relief. Hugh returned her to her father and excused himself to bide his time. He found a spot near the terrace doors and a glass of wine to occupy his hands.
“I detect a marked partiality,” drawled Robert Fairfield beside him. “First the theater, now Thayne’s drawing room.”
“Do you?” Hugh sipped his wine. “What do you make of it?”
His friend laughed. “Nothing! Just warning you that I’ve seen that expression on a man’s face before, and I know what it means.”
Hugh stiffened. “What are you blathering about?”
“You can’t take your eyes off the Cross girl.” Fairfield shook his head. “I hope I’m in time to make the first wager on when your wedding day will be.”
“What are the odds of that?” Hugh played along.
“I daresay I could get whatever odds I wanted at the moment. Tomorrow, not as easily.” His companion hesitated, then leaned closer. “An odd choice but a clever one. London’s forgotten about her but she’s quite an heiress, isn’t she?”
Hugh just looked at him. Fairfield’s smile grew. He clapped Hugh’s shoulder. “Well done, mate.”
“Shut it,” returned Hugh. Fairfield walked off, his laugh drifting back.
That clinched the matter, he supposed. Fairfield was likely joking about wagering on his marriage, but after Hugh danced with her a second time, plenty of others would notice. Especially the lady herself.
With that in mind, he made his way over to Eliza Cross again and requested the next dance.
Eliza had tried very hard not to watch Lord Hastings, or at least not to watchonlyLord Hastings. Her eyes seemed unable to avoid him, though, no matter how innocently she tried to keep her gaze on the other guests and dancers.
Papa had been pleased as anything to receive this invitation. When she asked if he knew Lord Thayne, he waved one hand and said they’d met. Eliza knew from past experience that meant he’d played piquet or some other game at the Vega Club with the viscount. She suspected the invitation might have arrived to pay some debt Thayne owed her father; Papa was good at getting what he wanted from people, and he often said he didn’t need more money.
But while Papa was delighted, Eliza viewed it with trepidation, remembering her lonely Season at balls like this. The appearance of Lord Hastings, and his greeting to them, was a great surprise and a tremendous relief, that there was at least one person she knew who would stop and speak to her.
And then he asked her to dance. A simple country dance, but just clasping his hands threw fuel on her smoldering imagination. Did his eyes linger on her? Did he hold her hand a second longer than necessary? Did she imagine a little extra warmth and attention in the way he drew her hand around his arm?
Yes. Yes, she surely did imagine all that, but it filled her with such a glow of happiness she didn’t care.
Papa fairly blazed with satisfaction when the earl had returned her to his side and left them. For once Eliza didn’t feel like scolding him about it. The two of them were content to stand at the side of the room, admiring the other guests and savoring private thoughts. Eliza thought this time she and her father might even be sharing the same daydream.
