Page 82 of An Earl Like You
“I know. But where?” He inhaled a deep breath. “I suppose I’ll start in Chiswick—she might have gone to her friend the Duchess of Ware, or told the duchess where she meant to go.”
Someone made a small noise. “Yes, Henrietta?” Rose asked.
“I... I might know where,” said his sister in a tiny voice.
Hugh was on his feet before she finished speaking, no longer weary. “Where? How do you know, Henrietta?”
She shrank in her chair. “I am not certain—please don’t think I knew all this time and simply didn’t say—”
“Where?” he barked.
“She spoke very fondly of her school. She said the headmistress was the closest person she had to a mother, and at a time like this—”
“Her school?” Yes—he remembered now, from their picnic...
Henrietta nodded. “Mrs. Upton’s Academy, in Hertfordshire.”
Chapter 31
Eliza hadn’t known how she would be received, but Mrs. Upton welcomed her as kindly as she had done over a decade ago, when Eliza walked through the doors of the academy at the age of eight, small for her age, plain, nervous, and very shy. As the years passed, other girls would sometimes whisper that Eliza was only there because her father agreed to make a large donation to the school, that she would never be a real lady. But Mrs. Upton had never treated her any differently than the daughters of dukes and viscounts; in fact, Eliza’s determination to become ladylike seemed to endear her to the headmistress, who frequently took time to help Eliza outside of class.
Now the older woman brought her into the spare but elegant office and poured her a cup of tea. She apologized for being obliged to see to her students and teachers, but invited Eliza to make herself comfortable. Eliza was happy to be left alone. She drank her tea and decided to go for a walk, strolling the grounds of the school where she had spent so many years.
It was fortunate the academy wasn’t far from Greenwich. Not only had it meant Eliza was able to go home for every holiday, she’d been able to invite her friends. Orphaned Sophie had come every time, and Georgiana had been there almost as often, escaping her dour older brother’s home. But here, Eliza had been almost as happy as at home. The lessons were demanding, the teachers strict but kind, and she’d felt such purpose, striving to become a respectable lady like her mother and a source of pride to her father.
Eliza stopped at the fence of the paddock, watching girls half her age carefully guide their horses around the ring, riding habits beautifully arranged, under the keen eye of the etiquette teacher and a pair of grooms. Mrs. Upton believed a lady should be accomplished and able to demonstrate her accomplishments while looking elegant at the same time. The paddock had been built the year Eliza arrived. She rested her hands on the top rail of the fence and wondered if her father had paid for it. He’d wanted so much for her to be a lady. He had insisted she come to this school, which educated and finished aristocratic girls, the daughters of peers and noblemen and diplomats. Yes, she thought, he would have paid anything to secure her admission here.
It made her chest hurt to think of how many things her father must have manipulated in her life. She had loved Mrs. Upton’s Academy, so she could forgive him for that, but Hugh—How could her beloved papa have thought it was acceptable to buy her a husband? Her hand curled into a fist as she realized that was the deception that hurt the most. Hugh... what choice had he had?
She sighed and walked on, past the gardens where she had first learned how to tend roses and discovered her love of flowers. She knew how fiercely Hugh cared for his mother and sisters. Her father had offered him the means to save them all, and he took it.
But not blindly or callously.I only did it because I thought there was a chance we would be happy, he’d said.
Eliza thought of the day they’d spent on Primrose Hill, where he told her he loved her. She wanted so desperately to believe it. But was that true? Was it possible? Could he love her after the way he’d been manipulated? She had fallen for him wildly, passionately... but not, she finally admitted, honestly. Her love had sprouted in shallow soil, fed with girlish dreams. She had noticed he never expressed any love for her, but she never asked, almost as if she knew why he didn’t.
He had told her he’d been truthful about that much, that he’d never professed to love her when he did not. No—he said he’d not professed ituntilhe meant it. Or did he simply want to believe it, too, now that they were wed until death did them part?
After lingering in the garden for quite some time, she returned to the main house. Mrs. Upton met her, cordial and patient, and they returned to the headmistress’s office.
She said only that she did not know what to do; that she was at a loss, and needed a place to think. Mrs. Upton didn’t press her—to pry would be rude. They talked of other things, trivial things, which had the soothing benefit of distracting Eliza. Gradually, subtly, Mrs. Upton’s questions led Eliza into talking of London. Soon she was describing the society events she now attended, which led to mentions of her new family, and finally to her marriage.
“What has made you unhappy, my dear?” asked Mrs. Upton at last. “I assume it was something quite serious for you to come to Kings Langley.”
Eliza stirred her tea. How to put it? “Yes, ma’am,” she murmured.
“Was it perhaps something your father did?”
She jerked at the perceptive question. “How—how did you know?”
Mrs. Upton made a softtsk. “I always feared Mr. Cross would push you too hard. He was absolutely set upon you becoming a lady. I remember he asked that you be assigned to share a room with the most eligible girl here.” She smiled at Eliza’s aghast look. “I refused to promise any such thing. It was more important that you be exposed to young ladies who would be good influences but also good friends. I know the world of thetonis not always a kind one, but you had such a kind heart. A vain, proud girl would have crushed your spirit.” She sipped her own tea. “Your father, though, disagreed with me. He’s a very persistent man.”
“Yes.” Eliza frowned at this evidence that her father had been scheming to manipulate her since she was a child. “You were right to oppose him. Thank you.”
The headmistress smiled. “I insisted that I decide the rules of my own academy. I always believed that if I once gave way to a parent’s demands, I would eventually be buffeted on all sides by demands from every one of them until I couldn’t please any.”
Certainly her father would have done that. “How do you stand up to a parent?” she asked. “They must insist on certain things—they are paying the bill, after all...”
“But I retain the power to refuse them,” Mrs. Upton replied. “And I have.” She smiled. “But more frequently I try to hold my ground without denying a girl I wish to admit. I have quite a soft spot for young ladies who have lost their mothers. It is hard enough to be a woman in this world; to do so without a mother is a great pity.”
