There was a moment of silence. The very air seemed to grow still, waiting for Avondale’s answer.
“Because I must.”
His words were heavy, his shoulders slumping as he spoke. No longer able to lift his head, he turned on his heel away from her, filling Eliza with a terrible, desperate fear.
“No, no!” She hurried after him, clinging onto his arm, tears starting in her eyes. “No, Avondale, you cannot do this! You were promised to me.”
Avondale made a strangled sound in his throat, his eyes finally meeting hers. “I never proposed to you, Eliza,” he whispered, his words slicing through her like a sharp knife piercing her skin. “And now, I can never do so. I must marry another.”
Eliza shook her head, tears now dampening her cheeks as she clung to him. “It cannot be so, Avondale,” she begged, not understanding what he was doing or why. “You say you love me, and you know that I cannot do anything but love you. Will you now turn your back on that? Will you stomp on my heart and leave it in pieces?” Seeing him still, Eliza did the only thing she could think of to do, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, she pressed her lips to his.
Avondale froze in place as she kissed him, her tears pressing against his cheeks as she pulled herself tight against him. For a moment, Eliza thought he might step away, that he might loosen her arms from around his neck, but then he softened beneath her embrace and kissed her back, hard.
Joy began to ring through her, the sound of bells beginning to peal over them both as Eliza allowed her passion to rise. There was hope yet. Avondale could not turn from her now.
And then, Avondale let out a loud groan, breaking the kiss and pushing her back.
“No,” he said, harshly, swiping the air with his hand. “No, Eliza. We cannot. I cannot. I am promised to another. It is too late.”
She crumpled, her pain forcing her to the ground. She sat on the grass, looking up at Avondale helplessly, her body beginning to shake with sobs.
“You must forget me, Eliza,” he continued, not reaching for her, not trying to help her to her feet. “I will be gone from my estate tomorrow, to marry my bride at her family’s parish. Nothing can change my mind. I must be gone from your heart and mind, Eliza . . . just as you are gone from mine.”
Those final words were spoken with a harshness that Eliza could not quite take in. It was as though Avondale was doing all he could to separate himself from her, as though he were trying to force her to hate him so that her love for him would dissipate entirely. Eliza could not understand it, bowing her head and allowing her pain to take over completely.
She was quite broken. Tears poured from her eyes, her body racked with sobs as she plunged her face into her hands. She did not understand what Avondale was doing, nor why he was treating her with such disfavor when he had, only a few days ago, confessed his love for her. Why had he told her such things, why had he spoken such promises, if he was already planning to marry another? That was not the actions of the Lord Avondale she knew! He was kind, considerate and caring. He would not trample her underfoot simply for his own pleasure . . . would he?
Looking up, Eliza expected to see Avondale waiting there for her, even though he had not come to comfort her. Surely he would not have left her alone in the folly, broken and weak? But, as she looked about her, Eliza realized that Lord Avondale had done precisely that. He had walked away and not looked back at her, had not come to her aid, or even thought to assist her home. It was as though he had never cared for her at all.
“I do not know him as I thought I did,” Eliza whispered to herself, the wind pulling her words from her mouth and flinging them high into the air. “I do not think I have ever truly known him at all.”
Sitting on the grass still, Eliza dropped her head and closed her eyes tightly. There was too much to contend with, she realized, unable to sort out one tumbling emotion from the other. All she wanted to do was weep, allowing her pain to tear out of her so that she might be free of it. Free of the love she still had for Lord Avondale, free from the passion and the hope that still lingered on within her.
“I must forget him,” she told herself, attempting to get to her feet. “I must rid myself of him.”
Her heart refused to listen, holding tightly onto all that she and Lord Avondale had shared. It refused to let him go, refused to forget him.
Perhaps she would never be able to release him from her heart.
Chapter One
Two Years Later, May 1815
“Lord Avondale.”
Eliza could not speak, could not move, only barely hearing her mother’s cool voice as it echoed across the room to where Lord Avondale now stood.
She could not quite believe that he had returned, could not quite take in that he now stood in her mother’s drawing room, looking at her with those same brilliant blue eyes that had so often haunted her dreams.
Her mother’s hand tightened gently on Eliza’s shoulder, helping her to remove herself from the strange reverie that seemed now to surround her.
“Might I ask, Lord Avondale, why you have forced yourself into my drawing room?” Lady Whitehaven asked, her voice rather high and certainly sharp. “It is most untoward.”
Lord Avondale bowed again, giving Eliza a moment to catch her breath as his eyes were lowered from hers. His voice was rich and warm, although Eliza was quite sure it held a slight strain.
“I must apologize, Lady Whitehaven, but your butler stated that you were not taking visitors this afternoon and I could not allow myself to be so restrained,” he replied, with a slight lift of his chin. “I have had a good deal of trouble during the time I have been apart from your family and I could not hold with the idea of being held back again, not even for a moment.”
Lady Whitehaven cleared her throat delicately, as though she did not quite understand what Lord Avondale was saying but that she also did not care to understand either.