Page 33 of An Earl Like You
Eliza blushed. “Do you know him?”
“Not to speak to, but I’ve seen him. He’s absolutely lovely, in a very manly way, of course. I am slightly acquainted with his sisters and his mother.”
“I met his mother.” Eliza couldn’t hold back a smile as Georgiana gasped and squeezed her arm in delight. “She was so gracious, Georgiana. Lord Hastings said she liked me.”
“Of course she did! Who could not?” Georgiana laughed. “But tell me about him—I know plenty about the countess. How did you meet him?”
Eliza could feel the silly, happy smile forming on her face. “He had business with Papa. He came to call.” The memory of their first encounter made her squirm a little.
“Was it love at first sight?” Georgiana demanded.
“Er... no,” admitted Eliza. “I had been giving Willy a bath and he got loose. I met Lord Hastings by falling in a heap at his feet, trying to keep Willy from licking him to death.”
Georgiana’s peal of laughter drew a rebuke from Lady Sidlow.
“But he came to dinner the next night and I managed to be presentable,” Eliza went on. “He complimented my singing,” she added with a shy, guilty smile.
“And well should he. Your voice is beautiful. But, Eliza, this is all very ordinary! Tell me how he won your heart!”
“Well, he...” Eliza blinked as she thought. Hastings hadn’tdoneanything particularly dashing, like rescue her from a runaway horse or save her from a lecherous dance partner. “He sent me flowers. And he danced with me twice.”
Georgiana’s brows lowered doubtfully.
Eliza flushed. “He kissed me,” she whispered. “More than once.”
Her friend brightened. “And was it lovely?”
“Divine,” she said on a sigh of pure joy. “Everything a kiss should be and more.”
“More?” Georgiana giggled. “It’s a good thing he’s about to speak to your papa, then.”
Eliza agreed.
“So it’s a case of mad passion.” Georgiana beamed at her. “I can tell you’ve fallen in love with him.”
Again Eliza nodded, aware that she was smiling like an idiot.
“Is it a secret? May I tell Lady Sidlow?” Georgiana cast a look over her shoulder at her chaperone. Countess Sidlow was a cousin of her mother who had agreed to sponsor Georgiana through her debut, but Georgiana wasn’t very fond of her. The countess was strict and proper, and she regularly forbade Georgiana from doing things she deemed immodest or too exciting. “Not because I long to confide in her, but because she spends all her time telling me which young lady every unmarried man in town is after.” Georgiana rolled her eyes. “She said the other day she thought Catherine Thayne would be a good match for Lord Hastings, and I would dearly love to tell her he found someone far better.”
“Oh no.” She put her hand on Georgiana’s arm. “Please don’t say anything to anyone, not yet. What if I’ve been mistaken? It would be mortifying if he stops coming to call, and everything turns out to have been my imagination.”
Georgiana snorted. “I daresay it’s not! You’re the least likely person to imagine a gentleman’s interest, so ifyouthink he’s about to propose, I expect he’s already got the license in his pocket.”
“Georgiana!” Eliza gasped.
Her friend grinned. “I won’t say anything. But Ishallbegin planning which dress to wear to your wedding.”
Hugh took his time approaching the Cross house.
It wasn’t to give himself time to consider and reconsider. That time had already passed. He’d skipped the Vega Club and gone to an opera last night, alone, where he let the surge and swell of the music roll over him. What would have happened if he’d decided to pursue a wealthy bride first, before settling his sisters? He would be married now, to a girl of his own class. It would probably have been a marriage of convenience, as well; his bride, to say nothing of her father, would know exactly who had the upper hand. He hadn’t pursued a society bride precisely because he wasn’t eager for that.
Instead he was going to marry Eliza Cross, daughter of a manipulative Cit who had made an obscene fortune speculating in raw materials during the war. And she thought it was a love match.
That was the point that kept him from sleep last night. It wasn’t as if Eliza was the same as her father, calculating and brazen. Eliza was... well, aside from her parentage, she was lovely. Genuine, warm, and kind. At first Hugh had been sure Edward Cross would tell her, or at least hint at, what he’d done, and he’d kept a wary eye out for any signs that Eliza knew her father was coercing him.
The fact that he’d seen none was both good and bad. Good, in that Hugh didn’t want to marry a scheming liar. If her nerves had been staged, if her delight at his courtship was planned, it would have driven a permanent wedge into their marriage. He was enormously relieved Eliza was exactly as she appeared to be.
But deep down, Hugh knew it was very bad that she didn’t know. That madehima liar, a cheat, and a manipulator, just as bad as her father. The more he knew Eliza, the more he liked her. It was entirely her father’s doing, but he didn’t doubt that she would be horribly hurt if she ever discovered the truth.
