Page 53 of An Earl Like You
She studied the pile of invitations. “No. I shall go.” She touched the topmost one. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m ashamed of your bride.”
“I hope you are not,” said Hugh after a moment of astonishment.
His mother set the letters aside. “She was a great surprise to me, and I still suspect you’ve not been completely forthcoming about your motives, but it is not my place to pry. You are entitled to choose your own wife.”
That was the most tepid approval he’d ever heard. “Thank you, Mother.”
She looked up at his dry tone. “No, no—you mistake me. She’s a lovely girl—well, not a beauty, but thoughtful and kind and warm. When you declared your interest, I worried. Not because of Eliza herself, since I did not know her, but because she was not part of our circle and society is not always welcoming to outsiders.”
Shehadn’t been very welcoming, but Hugh was grateful for any improvement in her feelings. “What has changed your mind?” he asked instead.
His mother sat in silence for a moment. “I cannot name any one thing. She’s... She’s not what I expected.”
I could say the same, Hugh thought, with a mixture of relief and pleasure. Eliza was far better than he had hoped she would be. She had a warm sensitivity to the feelings of others. She was thoughtful and sincere. And she was far more seductive than he would have ever guessed the first time he met her.
When Hugh considered the society ladies he knew, the women he might have married without Edward Cross’s interference in his life, he couldn’t name a single one who appealed to him more than Eliza did. Catherine Thayne, whom his mother had hoped he would marry, was a beauty, but a chatterbox who spoke mostly of herself and her friends. He couldn’t picture her rushing out to buy a new fan for Edith in apology for anything. Hugh had known Catherine since she was a child, as her brother was his good friend, and she’d always had the arrogance of a spoiled, beautiful girl.
But Eliza... Every day it seemed he learned or noticed something appealing about her. He looked forward to seeing her when he came home. He wanted to make love to her every night—and she wanted him to. She might blush at the things he coaxed her to do, but she came to their bed with enthusiasm and passion. He liked simply talking to her, which he had not expected. Eliza was a wonderful listener, caring and thoughtful, with clever ideas and a knack for making him laugh even when he didn’t mean to.
And that was why, if Hugh were honest with himself, he felt like such a craven coward. He was lying to his wife, and he suspected she knew it. At times he considered just telling her everything, about her father and Edith and even Benwick. It would be like lancing a boil, he told himself, painful and messy but necessary, and once lanced it would eventually disappear. But every time, he dismissed the idea because of how much it would hurt Eliza to hear about her father’s conniving scheme and Benwick’s snobbery and even Edith’s disdain.
The deeper, darker truth was that Hugh feared his own actions would hurt her the most. Lancing the boil might prove mortal.
He didn’t want to hurt his wife, and he damned sure didn’t want to risk losing her. Not when he thought he might be falling in love with her.
So he added one more facet to the bargain he’d made with the devil: keep the truth from Eliza at all costs, for her sake and for his own. With any luck, her innate kindness would win over Edith, as he could already see happening with Henrietta and his mother. Less likely but still possible, Benwick would either come to his senses or be enough of a gentleman to keep his mouth shut. And if Hugh had any luck at all left in his life, everything would continue on its current promising track, with Eliza none the wiser that it had all begun so sordidly.
Chapter 21
Eliza began to have hope that her new family was warming to her.
Edith had accepted the ivory fan with quiet thanks. Eliza caught the puzzled glance she gave her mother, just as she saw the approving nod the dowager gave in reply. When she brought out her notebooks of sketches and color ideas for the drawing room, the dowager invited her to her own private sitting room, where they shared tea and the dowager quizzed her—delicately and politely—about her upbringing. When Eliza mentioned Mrs. Upton’s Academy, her mother-in-law smiled in surprised delight; she knew of it, and what she knew was flattering. The dowager herself suggested they visit the drapery shop together to see the amethyst brocade that would look so lovely in the drawing room, then gave her a true smile, genuine and warm, and called her by name for the first time. It was a wonderful moment, even if it did indicate how cool her initial welcome had been.
Eliza had heard enough from Georgiana to know the matrons of thetonspent a great deal of time deciding which lady should marry which gentleman, quite independently of any desire of the parties involved. After much thought, she decided that the dowager had probably pictured her son married to someone else, someone like Millicent Harlow or Catherine Thayne, whom they met in Oxford Street one afternoon on a visit to an upholsterer. They were both beautiful, vivacious ladies, elegantly dressed and longtime friends of the family. They were quite knowledgeable about all the society people and events that Eliza knew nothing of, and she could see why the dowager countess would want one of them as her daughter-in-law.
She also made great strides with Henrietta, although only when Edith was not present. Henrietta came to play with Willy, and even went with Eliza to walk him in St. James’s Park once, where she threw sticks for him to chase and laughed at the way he tried to creep up on a flock of pigeons. When it came to Willy, or fashion, or even music—Henrietta played the pianoforte very well—they had plenty of conversation, easy and open. Henrietta told her stories of Hugh as a young man, to Eliza’s delight.
But whenever she mentioned Edith or anything to do with her, Henrietta either changed the subject or pretended not to hear. Eliza had no desire to make Henrietta choose between them, but Edith’s antipathy remained as strong as ever, and it was bothering her.
“I’ve no idea why, but I think Edith despises me,” she told Georgiana on one of their walks in the park, which they took twice a week now.
“I hate to say something uncharitable about your sister-in-law, but she’s a bit of a snob.” Georgiana gave her a sympathetic look. “I fear the Livingston connection only reinforced it.”
“Oh.” Eliza frowned. She still hadn’t received a good explanation for Mr. Benwick’s rudeness in Bond Street. “Are they a very old family?”
Georgiana scoffed. “Not at all! Not older than the Hastings family, at any rate, and Lord Livingston is only a viscount—your husband outranks him, regardless of how old his family is.”
“Then perhaps they are offended by my origins,” she said slowly. Papa’s father had been a laborer, working his way up to foreman building canals. Papa had begun there as well before he received a small inheritance from an uncle, and began speculating. Her mother had been the daughter of a baronet, but she was an only child. When Eliza’s grandparents died, the title went to a distant cousin Eliza had never met or heard from.
“They certainly wouldn’t be impressed by them,” said Georgiana frankly. “I think Mr. Benwick came to town to look for a well-born wife, the higher the better. His father is very demanding. He must have been quite pleased his son won Edith Deveraux.”
Eliza thought that didn’t reflect well on Edith, if she had decided to hate Eliza only because her fiancé’s father disapproved of her. Of course, who knew what Mr. Benwick had told her? And if she’d fallen in love with the man, it would be hard for her to ignore his feelings. “What is Mr. Benwick’s reputation?” she asked instead.
“Oh, he’s very handsome and a marvelous dancer.” Georgiana waved one hand carelessly. “Not as handsome as Sterling, of course,” she added, speaking of her own fiancé. “He’s not especially witty, but quite amiable. He’s liked well enough around town, and several young ladies were extremely downcast when he proposed to Lady Edith. What did you think of him?”
Eliza hesitated so long Georgiana stopped walking. “Eliza,” she said, shocked. “Don’t tell me you’ve not met him. He’s supposed to marry your sister-in-law in two months!”
“Truly? That soon? I didn’t know they had chosen a date...” Mindful of Hugh confiding that Benwick was kicking up over the settlements, Eliza began to wish she hadn’t said anything.
