Page 19 of Puck and Prejudice
“Earlier, you said that simply changing my shirt in your presence could ruin your reputation. Think about it.” Mr.Taylor spoke slowly. “This world... I can’t navigate it alone. It’s too foreign. And I can’t stay here, trapped. I need to find a way back—back to my family, my life. I have too much to lose. This arrangement could help us both.”
“As fortune would have it, I’m dealing with the subject of elopement in my current book,” Jane said. “I have two characters—one a reckless younger sister, who is the definition of silly, and the other a cad who gives her a false promise of marriage. She sends a note to her family announcing she will be going to Gretna Green. When the gentleman’s true nature as a scoundrel is exposed, and they are discovered in London, the family is thrown into turmoil. However, a hasty marriage is arranged to salvage some semblance of honor from the wreckage of her disgrace.”
Lizzy dug her teeth into the soft flesh inside her cheek, struggling to hold in the sudden sharp sting of tears.
How was she on the verge of crying?
It all felt so absurd.
Marriage was crafted to ensnare a woman. Once she said “I do,” nothing in her life was hers anymore. The institution was a relinquishment of power in exchange for an illusion of safety, a trade-off where freedom was sacrificed for the semblance of a home and the illusion of authority in running it, while the husband remained the ultimate decision-maker. And to make the bitter pill more palatable, it was wrapped in the sweet, pretty lie of love.
Sheknewthis. So why was the idea of a false marriage jarring? Did she harbor some undercurrent of romantic sensibilities?
“I don’t mean to be indelicate, but it cannot have escaped anyone’s notice that Mr.Taylor does not have means. And being a poor widow is not—”
“Forget the need for a rich man.” Georgie waved her hand dismissively. “I have the resources to provide you a substantial dowry. This keeps you captain of your own ship.”
To have financial security and the means to pursue her owninterests was tempting indeed. And yet, entering into a false union, even for practical convenience, left her unsettled.
“Enough plotting.” Georgie seemed to sense Lizzy reaching a breaking point and stood up briskly. “Before we can think of elopement, we need to get our guest changed and have an early dinner.”
“That would be advisable.” Jane gave a delicate cough. “In his current attire, Mr.Taylor looks as though he resides under a mushroom.”
Tuck glanced down. “I feel like an overgrown leprechaun.”
“Very well, then,” Georgie declared, striding purposefully toward the hall. “Let us investigate the contents of Edward’s wardrobe.”
The trio flanked Mr.Taylor as they went up the stairs and entered Georgie’s late husband’s bedchamber.
The walls exhibited soft hues of light blue and cream, providing a serene backdrop to the robust furniture. The central focus was a majestic four-poster bed. The room remained free of dust, suggesting the occupant had only momentarily stepped away rather than embarked on a permanent journey. Delicate porcelain figurines on a writing desk and a dressing table adorned with a toiletry set, cologne, and hair tonics contributed to the room’s ambiance. Oriental rugs covered the hardwood floor, infusing warmth into the space.
“It’s as if he could enter at any moment,” Jane remarked, trailing a finger over the damask bedspread. “Poor Neddy. He was a good man.”
“Indeed,” Georgie said as she approached the wardrobe. “Mr.Taylor, I daresay if the ghost of my ex-husband still haunts these walls, he will be most delighted to see you in his bed.”
Jane let out a choked noise as Tuck cleared his throat.
“That’s him, Edward, or cousin Neddy,” Lizzy announced, stepping forward to touch Tuck’s arm lightly, her gaze drawn to the gilded portrait of a kindly faced man with thinning hair and a sharp chin, his expression tinged with amusement. She felt the hard muscles beneath her palm as she cleared her throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed her reaction, and gestured toward another portrait of Goliath. “He adored his dogs. Do you have any back at home?” Incredible to think somewhere he had a life, a home, a family.
“Nah, not me.” Tuck passed a hand over his jaw, the hair there faintly visible against his bronze skin. “Someday, maybe. But my life is too busy now. I travel a lot. Or I did.”
“I see,” she murmured, though she didn’t really, but even while Jane and Georgie were occupied, ferrying armloads of Edward’s clothes to arrange on the bed, they both strained to catch every word exchanged between them, and it made her self-conscious. “I prefer cats. They make me sneeze, but I adore them.”
He gave a stiff nod while averting his gaze. On the surface, it seemed as if he wasn’t paying much attention, but his inward expression hinted at a deeper focus, as if he were meticulously cataloging every word she uttered, placing “adores cats” on a mental shelf that he’d consider at length in some later private time. It might have been foolish, but a small thrill surged through her chest at the notion.
“I’ll call in my best manservant,” Georgie was saying. “He’s discreet, loyal to the house, and will see you dressed for dinner. You’re welcome to anything in this room that feels useful. Lizzy? Jane? Let’s go downstairs. Dinner will be served within the hour.”
“Will you manage all right?” Lizzy whispered as he stared at the pile of clothing with open puzzlement, as if seeing some articles for the first time.
“I don’t think I have much of a choice, do I?” he muttered.
She wasn’t sure if he meant the clothing or everything. Despite her hollow stomach, she wished she could skip dinner and retreat to bed. Either today would turn out to be a dream, despite all evidence to the contrary, or she would at least gather the strength to face tomorrow and all the strange questions it would bring.
She inclined her head in what hopefully passed for sympathetic agreement and turned to follow the two older women.
She noticed Jane’s sideways looks as they advanced along the corridor.
“Oh, what is it?” She didn’t mean to sound quite so sharp.
