Page 40 of An Earl Like You
Chapter 16
When they disembarked at Whitehall Stairs, a carriage was waiting for the ladies and a horse for Hugh. He helped her up the step and winked. “Almost home,” he said with a grin.
Eliza smiled, but a nervous flutter started in her chest. Home. She barely remembered the Hastings house near St. James’s Square. She’d been so nervous about meeting his mother, nothing much about it had registered, but now it was her home. She tried to pay more attention as they drove.
The house was not as large as she remembered. Only five windows wide, it was smaller than its neighbor and built of old red brick. Eliza had thought it looked charming and quaint the first time she visited, but now it looked a bit dingy, as well.
Well. There was nothing wrong with dirt. It could all be scrubbed away, and now that she was mistress of the house, it would be her responsibility to see it done.
Lady Edith and Lady Henrietta barely stopped to leave their bonnets and cloaks in the hall before heading right up the stairs. Lady Hastings murmured something about writing letters before excusing herself into the small morning room where Hugh had kissed her. Eliza knew it was rude, but she didn’t know why. Perhaps they were feeling a little melancholy at the thought of Hugh being married, or were exhausted after the wedding. Eliza hoped they would warm to her in time, and she resolved to be as cheerful and understanding as possible to that end. Fortunately Hugh stepped up and put her at ease, presenting her to Wilkins, the butler, and Mrs. Greene, the housekeeper.
“Would you like to see your room now?” he whispered in her ear. “You must be tired.”
Eliza blushed at the tone in his voice. “Yes, thank you,” she said, even though she wasn’t much tired. He gave her a sly look that promised no sleep at all, and they turned toward the stairs.
A frantic scrabbling stopped her on the second step. “Willy!” she cried in delight. Her dog had been sent on ahead with Mary, and he came racing around the corner with a harried footman in chase. Eliza fell to her knees and hugged Willy, who still wore his yellow bow, now rather bedraggled. He went wild, licking her face and ears until she laughed aloud.
“What—?” Lady Hastings stood in the doorway, one hand on her bosom. “What is this?”
Eliza got back to her feet—a difficult endeavor with Willy still trying to nip the lace on her dress. “This is Willy, ma’am.”
She turned to her son in dismay. “A dog?”
“Willy is a dog, Mother, but a well-behaved one.” Willy, naturally, chose that moment to leap and steal the handkerchief from Hugh’s pocket. Eliza cringed at the sound of ripping cloth. Lady Hastings looked appalled. Hugh merely laughed and pushed the dog back to the floor. “A mostly well-behaved dog.”
“I don’t—” The dowager stopped. She glanced at Eliza and sighed. “Never mind.”
“Don’t worry,” Eliza hastened to say. “He’s happiest in the garden. I’ll make sure he doesn’t disturb anyone.”
“How thoughtful of you,” said the dowager, “but there is no garden. Wilkins will have to assign someone to walk him.”
Eliza intended to walk him herself, but her mother-in-law’s expression kept her quiet. It was clear Lady Hastings did not like dogs. She bobbed a curtsy. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you, dear.” The dowager turned and went back into the morning room. Eliza gripped a handful of fur at Willy’s neck to keep him from running after the woman.
“Come,” urged Hugh, his hand at her back. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Eliza said nothing until they were alone in the master bedchamber. It was smaller than her room at home and she was surprised how dark it was. The furnishings were dark wood with blood-red upholstery, the carpets were an indeterminate shade of brown, and even the walls were covered in dreary papers. It was hideous.
But Hugh was here, and when he closed the door and took her in his arms, the rest faded away. Eliza rested her cheek against his chest and felt at peace for the first time all day.
“A bit much, is it?” he asked.
She nodded. “I fear your mother and sisters don’t like me.” It just slipped out before she could stop it.
“What? No, they’re merely reserved,” he said. “Perhaps nervous, as well. It’s not every day a new lady of the house arrives. Be yourself, and my mother will come to love you.”
“What about Edith and Henrietta?” she dared to ask.
He huffed. “Edith has been upset with me for some time. She’ll get over her temper fit, and Henrietta always follows her. Besides, Edith is engaged herself. Now that the tedium of my wedding is over, she can embrace the thrill of her own, and that will raise both my sisters’ spirits.”
“Tedium!”
He laughed. “Wasn’t it? All that talking and nonsense, keeping me from this.” He cupped her face and kissed her. Willy whined, and Hugh raised his head. “Willy, basket,” he said in a tone of authority. To Eliza’s shock, her dog cocked his head, then trotted over to the familiar basket by the hearth and settled down. “Good dog,” Hugh told him before sweeping Eliza into his arms.
He’d got her dress and petticoats off and had her twisting in his arms, wearing only her chemise as he kissed his way up and down her body, when a knock sounded at the door. Hugh growled, but when it came a second time he called out, “Yes?”
Her hair over her face, her heart pounding and her skin tingling from his kisses, Eliza didn’t hear what the intruder said. But Hugh muttered a curse and rolled to his feet. He’d only lost his jacket and shoes, and when he opened the door he stood to block Eliza’s view—or rather, to block the visitor’s view of her. After a brief exchange, Hugh closed the door again, a letter in his hand. He broke the seal and read it, a scowl deepening on his face. When he finished reading he went to the window and stared out, tapping the letter against his thigh.
