Page 55 of An Earl Like You
“Perhaps,” Edith said, in the tone of someone who thought it was rubbish but didn’t want to say so. “But surely he could say that. His note is so—so terse! As if I were any acquaintance instead of his betrothed!”
The dowager sighed. Eliza could just picture her embracing her daughter, stroking her hair in comfort, as she’d done when Willy ran at Edith. “Men are curious creatures,” the dowager said. “A horse race in Richmond, a boxing match on the heath... I’ve learned these things might distract a gentleman so violently he forgets all his ordinary habits.”
“Reggie’s not like that,” protested Edith. “It’s been over a week, Mama! You—you don’t think it’s because of... well...?”
Her mother laughed. “He’s a man, Edith. No matter how deeply in love, he feels the lure of masculine pursuits, I assure you. Don’t you remember last month when he and his fellows went to Brighton for a week? He left you no word, and you were sure it meant he didn’t care for you, but then he came back, more devoted than ever.”
“Yes, that’s true,” said Edith slowly.
Eliza felt horrible. She wanted to warn the dowager that there might be more to it this time, that Mr. Benwick was being less than devoted in his demands. It tore at her heart to hear Edith so upset and perplexed because the man she loved—the man she believed loved her—was being cold and distant. After all, if Mr. Benwick had changed his mind about the marriage, he ought to be man enough to come and break the news gently to Edith. He even ought to let her slap his face and call him rude names.
But she had promised Hugh not to say a word. She squeezed her eyes closed and reminded herself of that as Edith slowly began to cheer up, persuading herself that, yes, her mother must be right, that Mr. Benwick would surely come to call soon. For the first time Eliza didn’t feel upset that Mr. Benwick had walked away from her in Bond Street, as now she had no trouble hating him on Edith’s behalf.
“Why are you lurking in the corridor?” murmured Hugh near her ear.
Eliza jumped, but managed not to shriek. She whirled on him. “You startled me!”
He winked at her. “Happily, I hope. Have the workmen driven everyone out?” He spoke in a normal tone this time, and reached for the door.
“Oh, wait,” whispered Eliza urgently, but it was too late. He swung the door open. His mother and sister were indeed arm in arm, but quickly broke apart. Edith turned her head away and took a stealthy swipe at her eyes, which made Eliza’s heart constrict.
“How are things progressing in here?” Hugh asked, hands on hips as he took in the dismantling of the room.
“Very well, dear,” the dowager replied.
“It’s quite a dirty job,” Hugh remarked. “I don’t see how we can receive callers for a while.” Edith looked at him in horror, as if he had just forbidden visitors. “Clearly we shall have to go out more. Have you got a dress for a ball, Edith?”
Reluctant interest sparkled in her eyes. “Yes.”
“I accepted some invitations,” he remarked. “I hope you’ll deign to accompany me—unless you prefer the dust, of course.”
His sister’s face lit up. “Oh yes, Hugh! As if anyone could prefer the dust!” She hurried to him and threw her arms around him. “Who did you accept?”
Laughing, Hugh kissed her temple. “Lady Gorenson, for her musicale in two nights, and Lady Montgomery’s ball.”
“Delightful.” The dowager smiled fondly at the pair of them.
“Hugh...” Edith plucked at his waistcoat button, smoothing it flat. “Have you heard from Reggie?”
Eliza saw the change in his face—it was slight but telling. Edith, still fiddling with the button, did not. “Not recently,” he said, sounding completely unperturbed. “I told my solicitor to write to Livingston’s, and solicitors never do anything quickly.” He had to move for the workmen carrying out the sofa, and glanced at Eliza, still lingering at the door. “Come, tell me what your plans are for the room, my dear,” he said. “Now that we’re irrevocably committed to refurbishment.”
She stepped slowly into the room. Edith turned pale at the sight of her, but only dropped her gaze to the floor. “Green walls,” Eliza said, feeling again like the unwelcome intruder in a happy family. “Deep purple draperies and upholstery.”
“It will be lovely,” interjected the dowager, giving Eliza a fond smile. “I’ve wanted to decorate this room since we came to town.”
Hugh chuckled. “I’m sure it will be the most splendid drawing room in London. We might even have to hold a soiree in it.”
Edith’s head came up and she stared in amazement. The dowager hid hers better, but Eliza would have wagered she was no less surprised. “If you wish, of course we shall.” She looked at her daughter. “Edith, your fitting with Madame de Louvier is in less than an hour. We must go soon.”
“Yes, Mama.” Without a glance at Eliza, Edith followed her mother from the room.
The workmen must have still been securing the sofa in the cart outside, destined for the upholsterer’s shop. She and her husband were alone.
“My mother is in alt.” Hugh tugged her into his arms and into a loose imitation of a waltz in the empty room. “She’s wanted new drapes forever.”
“Why didn’t you let her buy them? She has excellent taste.”
He flicked one hand. “There was so much else to do—Edith’s debut, paying calls, renewing acquaintances...”
