Page 54 of An Earl Like You
“When she accepted him, he told everyone they would be wed by the end of the Season.” Georgiana’s gaze narrowed on her. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Now she didn’t want to tell anyone. Perhaps it had been a momentary fit of pique, or he’d felt unwell, or... something, any sort of reason other than he hated the sight of her. “Well... well, not really. I saw him on Bond Street once.”
Georgiana raised her brows expectantly. Eliza flushed, not wanting to lie. “It was a chance meeting, not a proper introduction.”
“Was he rude?” Her friend’s expression was amused and puzzled at the same time. “Did it not go well?”
“Never mind,” said Eliza, pink-faced.
“Eliza,” said Georgiana sternly.
“He turned his back and walked away without a word.” She lowered her gaze as she said it, feeling the sting all over again. “Henrietta was very shocked, but she wouldn’t explain—I don’t think she knows why!”
“That cretin!” Lady Sidlow, sitting in her carriage nearby, glanced up in displeasure at Georgiana’s outburst. “He gave you the cut?” Georgiana demanded in a harsh whisper. “Of all the rude, churlish things to do! I’m going to find out why.”
“No!” She seized her friend’s arm. “Please don’t say anything about it—”
“I won’t mention you at all, but I will not stand by and do nothing.” Her eyes alight with militant fervor, Georgiana linked their arms and started walking briskly, towing Eliza along with her. No amount of protest or demand got Georgiana to recant her desire to do something—some unspecified thing Eliza feared would make things even worse with Edith.
“Honestly, Eliza,” said Georgiana at last. “Something should be said! If you can’t hold up your head in front of thetonand stare down their whispers and slights, they’ll be merciless. You must demonstrate that you have power as well, and that you will not be meek in the face of blatant rudeness.”
Eliza stopped, breathless and flushed after Georgiana’s energetic pace. “This is why I was a dismal failure in my Season. I feel quite powerless when they whisper and stare at me.”
Her friend scoffed. “You are the Countess of Hastings. Your husband married you because he adores you, not because it was arranged for political or monetary advantage like so manytonmarriages. Dozens of women in London want desperately to be in your shoes.”
“But what should I do?” Eliza asked uncertainly. Jealousy was not the foundation of friendship, and she would rather have friends than be envied from afar.
Georgiana smiled. “Fortunately, everything you already do well. Dress beautifully. Let Hastings gaze lovingly at you. Be charitable to the unfortunate and kind to the wallflowers.”
She rolled her eyes. “That is not what makes one admired, Georgiana. Society likes someone with a good wit, especially when it’s used on others. They like dash, extravagance, and style, all of which I lack.”
“Well—they do,” the other girl conceded. “But they also admire elegant women of poise and character. The Duchess of Exeter!”
Eliza did not know the Duchess of Exeter. If not for Sophie, she wouldn’t have ever met a duchess in her life. During her ill-begotten Season, she had stood on the fringes of every crowd, watching but never speaking to elegant people like duchesses and countesses. It still amazed her that she was one of those countesses now, and she had no idea how to act.
“I’ll be discreet,” Georgiana promised when Eliza just stared at her doubtfully. “Or you could ask Hastings. He would hate to see you snubbed.”
She mustered a smile. “An excellent thought.”
Eliza returned home feeling more unsettled than when she’d left. She wished she could ask Hugh—or rather, she wished she could believe what he’d said when she asked him the first time. Edith had been cool to her even before Willy attacked her reticule, but Hugh avoided her direct question about it, instead telling her about Mr. Benwick. As much as she appreciated that, it didn’t explain everything about his sister’s behavior.
She did not want to make her husband choose between her and his family. She knew he cared for her, but he had loved his mother and sisters his entire life. She had seen the easy camaraderie between them, at least when she wasn’t part of the group. No matter how much she told herself that this was natural, that it would take time for her to become part of the family, it was hard to see Hugh make Edith smile and laugh, when the girl only had chilly politeness for Eliza.
And when she’d told him she loved him, he hadn’t replied in kind. He’d said plenty of other lovely things to her, but Eliza couldn’t recall a single time he expressed affection for her. He called her darling and told her he wanted her, but that was not the same as loving her.
She went up the stairs, drawing off her gloves. Workmen had arrived before she left with Georgiana to begin painting the drawing room, so she headed there to see how work progressed.
“Don’t do that!” said the dowager sharply.
Eliza paused just outside the open door, only to realize the command had not been to her. In the drawing room, just out of sight, the dowager continued instructing the servants who must have been removing the artwork from the walls. “Over there with that one,” her voice floated into the corridor. “And the mirror, as well.”
She peeked around the door, smiling at the scene. The draperies were down, and servants were packing things from the cabinet and mantel into straw-filled crates. She was about to go in when another voice stopped her.
“But why hasn’t he come, Mama?”
Eliza went still. There was such hurt, such bewilderment in Edith’s tone—such heartbreak. She had to be speaking of Mr. Benwick.
“I don’t know, my dear,” said her mother gently. They must have been standing near the door, for Eliza could hear her perfectly. “Perhaps his family has required his time.”
