Page 106 of A Literary Liaison
Yet what choice did he have? Better she think him a faithless coward temporarily than him facing the gallows and leaving her—and potentially their child—for good.
Hollow
The sun casta warm glow over the manicured gardens of Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, where London’s elite had gathered for an afternoon of refined entertainment. Elisha found herself in the midst of this glittering assemblage, feeling every bit the outsider despite her carefully chosen gown of pale blue silk and the emerald ring that caught the light on her finger.
At her side stood the Duchess of Lancaster, her silver-streaked hair elegantly coiffed beneath a fashionable bonnet. Flanking them were Edgar’s sisters, Lady Essie and Lady Eva, their youthful exuberance barely contained by the constraints of proper Society.
Three weeks. It had been three weeks since Edgar’s sudden departure on “urgent business,” and Elisha was beginning to wonder if this elaborate social debut was merely an elaborate distraction from his continued absence. She’d received exactly two letters—brief, formal affairs that read more like business correspondence than notes from her beloved fiancé.
“Now, my dear,” the duchess said, her voice low and measured, “remember to keep your chin up and your back straight. You mustn’t let them see any hint of uncertainty.”
Elisha nodded, trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach—and the hollow ache that had taken residence there since Edgar’s departure. “Yes, Your Grace. I’ll do my best.”
Eva leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And if anyonedares to snub you, just mention that you’re writing a novel. That’ll set their tongues wagging faster than Lady Romney’s pug chasing a fox!”
“Eva!” Essie admonished, though her lips twitched with amusement. “We’re supposed to be helping Elisha fit in, not cause a scandal.”
The duchess sighed, though there was fondness in her exasperation. “Girls, please. This is important for Elisha and for your brother.” Her tone carried a weight that made Elisha wonder if the duchess, too, was concerned about Edgar’s prolonged absence.
As they made their way through the gardens, Elisha couldn’t help but marvel at the spectacle around her, even as part of her wished Edgar were here to share it. Ladies in elaborate gowns twirled delicate parasols, while gentlemen with carved ivory canes and top hats engaged in animated conversation. The air was filled with the sweet scent of roses and the gentle strains of a string quartet—all of it beautiful, yet somehow incomplete without Edgar’s warm presence beside her.
“Lady Gale,” the duchess called out, waving gracefully to a stern-looking woman in purple silk who appeared to have swallowed something particularly unpleasant. “How lovely to see you. May I introduce Miss Elisha von Linde?”
Lady Gale’s eyes narrowed as she took in Elisha’s appearance with the intensity of a hawk examining a mouse. “Von Linde? I don’t believe I’m familiar with that family name.”
Before Elisha could respond, Eva stepped in smoothly with the confidence of someone who’d clearly been practicing. “Miss von Linde is a dear friend of ours, Lady Gale. She’s quite the literary talent. In fact, she’s been corresponding with Mr. Dickens about his latest work.”
Lady Gale’s eyebrows rose with interest, transforming her expression from suspicious to merely curious. “Is that so? Well, Miss von Linde, you must tell me all about it. I find Mr. Dickens’ stories quite diverting.”
As Elisha launched into a discussion of Dickens’ use of social commentary in his novels, she caught the duchess giving her an approving nod. Perhaps she could do this after all—even without Edgar here to anchor her courage.
The afternoon wore on in a whirlwind of introductions and carefully navigated conversations. Elisha found herself discussing poetry with a viscount who quoted Byron with more enthusiasm than accuracy, debating the merits of landscape painting with a baroness who had strong opinions about the proper use of clouds, and even sharing a laugh with a group of debutantes over the latest fashion faux pas at court—apparently, Lady Worthington had worn the same shade of pink as Princess Alexandra, causing what Eva dramatically termed “a crisis of unprecedented proportions.”
Yet through each interaction, Elisha felt Edgar’s absence like a phantom limb. She found herself turning to share a witty observation with him, only to remember he wasn’t there. When Lord Lichfield made a particularly pompous pronouncement about the intellectual capacity of lady writers, she ached for Edgar’s supportive smile and the way his eyes would flash with protective indignation on her behalf.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the gardens, the duchess drew Elisha aside to a secluded grove where the sounds of the gathering faded to a gentle murmur.
“You’ve done wonderfully, my dear,” she said, her voice warm with genuine pride. “I do believe you’ve won over quite a few of our harshest critics.”
Elisha felt a flush of pleasure at the praise, though it was tinged with melancholy. “Thank you, Your Grace. I couldn’t have done it without your guidance and support. I only wish…” She trailed off, not wanting to voice her disappointment.
“You wish Edgar were here,” the duchess finished gently.
Elisha’s composure wavered slightly. “I understand his obligations, truly I do. But I confess I don’t understand why this particular businessrequired such… discretion. Or such an extended absence.”
The duchess’ expression grew troubled, and for a moment, Elisha saw past the composed facade to the worried mother beneath. “Edgar’s affairs are often more complex than they appear on the surface, my dear. Sometimes the very people we seek to help must be protected from the knowledge of our assistance.”
Before Elisha could ask what she meant, Essie and Eva appeared, their faces alight with excitement.
“Oh, Elisha, you were marvelous!” Essie exclaimed. “Did you see Lady Reedshaw’s face when you quoted Byron? I thought she might faint from shock—or perhaps jealousy that someone under thirty actually understands poetry!”
Eva nodded enthusiastically. “And the way you handled Lord Jefferey’s interrogation about your background was masterful! When you mentioned spending summers ‘on the Continent,’ he looked positively green with envy.”
The duchess smiled indulgently at her daughters before turning back to Elisha and guiding them further from prying eyes and ears. “You’ve taken your first steps into our world, my dear. It won’t always be easy but remember this: You have a strength and intelligence that many of these people can only dream of. Never let them make you doubt your worth.”
As they reached a secluded corner of the gardens, away from the gentle surveillance of Society matrons, Elisha gathered her courage. “Your Grace, I cannot express my gratitude sufficiently. For your guidance, your acceptance, for giving Edgar and me a chance at happiness.” Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “Though I confess, I sometimes wonder if I’m holding him back from a more suitable match.”
The duchess’ expression softened with something that looked remarkably like maternal affection. “My dear child, you are exactly what Edgar needs. You’ve returned laughter to his voice, purpose tohis stride. He carries himself taller because of you, fights for things that matter because you’ve shown him what’s worth fighting for.”
