Page 39 of An Earl Like You
“And who didn’t care about your deplorable lack of skill at sums,” put in Sophie, making them all laugh.
“I don’t know about that,” said Eliza, flushed with love. “Hastings hasn’t asked me about sums yet...”
“No, I wager he’s thinking of something else entirely when he looks at you,” murmured Sophie, watching Hugh. He stood across the room, speaking to his mother and sisters.
Eliza’s mood dimmed a fraction at the sight. Lady Hastings—now the dowager countess—had given her a gracious smile and welcomed her to the family, but with genteel reserve. Lady Edith and Lady Henrietta had been no more than polite. Lady Edith in fact was almost cold, and Lady Henrietta had tried to avoid looking at her at all. Eliza had never had siblings, and she didn’t remember her mother. She had hoped her sisters-in-law would be like true sisters, but it was clear they didn’t feel the same.
“Yes, as a married lady now, you must learn to recognize what it means when a gentleman looks at you that way.” Georgiana darted a wary glance over her shoulder, but Lady Sidlow, her chaperone, was speaking to Sophie’s husband. The duke was regarding Lady Sidlow with ducal hauteur, but Eliza had noticed he always looked that way until Sophie crossed his vision. Then his blue eyes grew hot and his mouth softened, and she would swear he was imagining doing wicked things with his wife.
“You mean the way His Grace looks at Sophie?” As they were watching, Ware glanced their way, and the searing look he gave Sophie made them all blush.
“Yes,” murmured Sophie, pink-faced. “That way.”
“I know,” Eliza whispered. “I know about all that. I never thought I wouldneedto know, but—”
“My Lady Hastings.” Hugh’s voice behind her made her jump. She turned to see him bow. “May I take you in to our wedding breakfast?”
She blushed. “Yes.” Her friends waved her on, Sophie returning to her duke and Georgiana heading toward the Hastings girls with a determined expression. Eliza couldn’t help but notice that their faces grew markedly more welcoming at her approach.
“Why so grim?” Hugh took her chin in his hand and studied her face. “Regrets already?”
She laughed in embarrassment. “No! More that I feel suddenly overwhelmed—no longer simple Miss Cross, but the Countess of Hastings, who sounds so much grander.”
He grinned. “Does she? And yet I plan to take her to bed and make her sigh and moan in ecstasy tonight, which sounds much finer than being grand.”
“Stop!” Scarlet-faced, she squeezed his arm. No one was near enough to hear, but it still gave her a shocked thrill when he said such things to her.
“Then don’t look at me like that.” His voice dropped, and his eyes wandered over her. Eliza felt lovely in her peach silk gown with white lace, but when Hugh looked at her that way, she wanted to tear it off. “It makes me want to steal you away, back to the folly, and leave everyone else to the cold meats.”
“We couldn’t possibly,” she whispered back, even though she would have preferred it. Lady Edith was watching her with something very close to dislike.
Hugh sighed. “Later, then.” He raised her hand and kissed her knuckles, right where her new ring shone.
“Yes,” she said happily. “Later.”
They left Greenwich several hours later. Papa had arranged for the yacht to take them back into the heart of London, where Hugh’s driver would meet them. Sophie and the duke departed in their carriage. Since their wedding a few days earlier they had been at the duke’s country house in Chiswick, and Sophie murmured to her that they might never go back to London. Georgiana had wanted to go on the yacht, too, but Lady Sidlow firmly denied it. The carriage was good enough, she declared, and Georgiana bade Eliza farewell in a flurry of hugs and promises that she would call on her as soon as possible.
“After all, Lady Sidlow cannot fault me for visiting the Countess of Hastings!” she whispered in glee. Her chaperone was insufferably proud, to Georgiana’s disgust.
Eliza laughed and waved good-bye. Hugh waited behind her, but when she turned, he cocked one brow. “May I take you home now, ma’am?”
“Of course.” Eliza blushed as Roberts brought her cloak and bonnet. It wasn’t for the last time, but it suddenly felt like it. On impulse, she seized the older man’s hand. “Good-bye, Roberts. Look after Papa, would you?”
The butler, who had been in their household for as long as she could remember, smiled. “I will, madam.”
Papa walked with them down to the dock. Mary, her maid, had left for London earlier with Eliza’s baggage to make everything ready at her new home. The dowager countess and her daughters were already aboard the yacht, and Hugh stood waiting to hand her onto the deck.
Eliza threw her arms around her father. “I can’t believe I’m leaving,” she said on a little gasping sob. “Good-bye, Papa.”
“There.” He smoothed her hair. “No tears! You’ve made me so happy, Lilibeth. A noble husband for my beautiful girl—your mother would be so proud and delighted. You tell me if Hastings doesn’t make you happy,” he teased with mock severity. “Remind him I want several grandchildren, and that I don’t like to wait...”
With a watery laugh, she kissed him good-bye and let him hand her over the rail into Hugh’s arms. They stood on the deck together and waved until Papa was out of sight. Only then did she lean into her bridegroom’s side and sigh.
“You may visit him whenever you want,” he told her.
“I know. It just seems so strange to leave him.” Her eyes felt sticky at the thought of Papa alone in the big house every day. She knew that was silly; he would surely spend most of his time in London, playing cards with Mr. Grenville and visiting the widow in Portland Place. He had always said nothing would make him happier than to see her wed, and he must have many reasons for it.
“You’ll get used to it,” Hugh assured her. “Let me see to my mother. She isn’t fond of boats.” He went forward to where his mother and sisters sat, leaving her to her thoughts.
