“Are you quite all right, Eliza?”
Her mother’s gentle hand rested on hers for a moment, forcing her to come to a stop.
Eliza buried her wry laugh and shook her head. “I think I shall take some air, Mama,” she murmured, honestly. “I find the room a little stuffy. You will not mind if I delay coming for tea for a few minutes?”
Lady Whitehaven nodded understandingly. “Of course, my dear. You know where we shall be and the guests will not miss you so long as you are not too long.” She pressed Eliza’s hand for a moment before letting her go. “And take a shawl with you, for the gardens will be cool this evening.”
Eliza promised she would and made to make for the door, only for a slight prickling sensation to catch her. Turning her head, she saw Lord Avondale watching her, a look in his eyes that stole her breath.
He had heard every word she had said to her mother. He knew that she would be going out to the gardens and that she would be there alone. What an opportunity that would be for them to speak in private, for her to finally understand the reasons for his rejection of her.
Her throat worked for a moment, sparks seeming to brush against her skin as she held his gaze. And then, without a single word to him, Eliza turned on her heel and made for the door, as though she were being chased away by his very presence.
Chapter Seven
It had not been Jeremy’s intention to overhear Eliza and Lady Whitehaven’s discussion, but he had been unable to help it. Lord Montrose’s loud voice was still filling the room but given that he was at the other end of the table, Jeremy had still been able to hear everything that was said.
Eliza was to go out to the gardens for some air, for she was apparently finding the room stuffy and hot. That was, he suspected, only part of the reason for her desire to quit the room, for, as his eyes turned back towards Lord Montrose, he recalled just how embarrassed poor Eliza had seemed. Little wonder, given just how loud and abrasive Lord Montrose could be, although the rest of the guests had not appeared to consider him in such a way. Lord Montrose was not at all the sort of gentleman that Jeremy had ever considered Eliza would turn to, for he appeared to be lacking in consideration for her, lacking in good manners and propriety given some of his comments, and eager to push himself forward into other people’s considerations. To Jeremy, it seemed that Lord Montrose cared only for himself, seemingly unwilling to have anyone else take his place in anything. How could Eliza find herself encouraging such a gentleman’s courtship? It seemed quite ridiculous, for Lord Montrose certainly would not ever have anything akin to the love and affection that Jeremy had for Eliza. Lord Montrose might think well of her, might think her beautiful and elegant, but that would be as far as his considerations of her went. He would not treat her as she deserved but would continue to place his own needs and desires in front of her own. There seemed very little reason for Eliza to be seeking to further her acquaintance with the fellow and yet that was precisely what she was doing.
Perhaps his rejection of her, his turning away from her, had broken her heart so terribly that she no longer cared who sought her hand in marriage. Perhaps she had decided that to allow one’s heart to become involved was not at all wise, given what had occurred with the love that that they had shared.
Jeremy let out a soft groan, sitting back in his chair and eyeing the port in front of him with an eager eye. It would be so easy just to lose himself in the liquor, to let the cloud of whisky, brandy and port wash over him and chase his difficulties away for a time.
Of course, it would not allow him to face the problem of Miss Eliza Wells and Lord Montrose. Nor would it help him in his search to discover who had been behind Rebecca’s disastrous situation, although the truth was, he had made very little progress in that matter either.
Reaching for his port, he took a long sip and let the sweetness wash down his throat and infuse his chest. What was he to do? He knew that Eliza was now to be out walking in the gardens alone and, whilst his opportunity was readily presenting himself, something was holding him back. Was it fear? Fear that she might reject him yet again? That he would be pushing at her too hard if he was to speak to her again about what had occurred with Rebecca? After all, he had only just spoken to her before dinner, had spoken to her with more fervor and passion than he had meant, and yet there had been that flicker in her eyes, that glint that had given him a little hope.
Perhaps Titania had been correct when she had stated that Eliza loved him still. What if she still carried him in her heart but did not want to admit it? What if his explanation finally allowed her the freedom to love him again? Was he truly going to sit at this table, drinking port with the other gentlemen and allow her to pass him by?
“You are courting Miss Eliza Wells, are you not?”
Jeremy froze, his port half way to his mouth as one of the other gentlemen addressed Lord Montrose.
Lord Montrose sat back in his chair, an easy grin on his face. The liquor had obviously loosened his tongue, for he answered quite easily and without even a hint of hesitation.
“Indeed,” he said, grandly, lifting his glass of port as though it were a toast to her. “Quite a delightful young thing, is she not?”
One or two of the gentlemen murmured in agreement, although Jeremy could not find the strength to say anything.
“But that Lady Barclay, however,” another gentleman said, a note of laughter in his voice. “She might be persuaded to accept your court also.” A sly look came into the fellow’s eyes as he looked at Lord Montrose, who, much to Jeremy’s horror, winked roguishly.
“I am well aware of what you are suggesting, old boy,” Lord Montrose stated, loudly. “But I am currently quite settled with Miss Eliza Wells. She will do me rather well for a time, I think. She is quite respectable, genteel and whilst there is a spark of stubbornness about her, I am certain that I will be able to have her easily biddable in time.”
Anger pierced Jeremy’s heart, forcing him to drag in air as he turned his face away from Lord Montrose, not wanting to see his arrogant smile. How could the gentleman speak of her in such a way? It was not to be borne!
“Lady Barclay, I think, is not inclined towards courtship or marriage,” said another gentleman, as Jeremy fought to keep his temper under control. “Although she may be persuaded towards other things, I think.”
A round of laughter ran about the room, although Jeremy did not join in. He disliked this sort of discussion intensely, and even more so when it was directed towards Eliza. He was more convinced than ever that Eliza did not deserve to be treated or spoken of in such a way by the gentleman who was supposedly courting her, wondering whether or not she knew of Lord Montrose’s true character.
“Is that so?” he heard Lord Montrose murmur, turning his head to see the look of interest that had crossed the gentleman’s face. “I would not be entirely dissuaded from such a thing, I must confess. Lady Barclay is quite the lady!”
“Beautiful,” someone added. “And it is quite the thing for a gentleman to have at least one mistress when they are married!”
Another round of laughter. Jeremy felt as though he might explode with fury at any moment, furious that Lord Montrose should even be entertaining the idea of keeping Lady Barclay on the side whilst he was either courting or married to Eliza.
“I cannot say that I can find any grounds to disagree with you about that!” Lord Montrose laughed, making all the gentleman chuckle and pass knowing glances towards one another.
Jeremy had heard quite enough. Before he launched himself at Lord Montrose in a fit of temper, he rose and made his way to the door, noticed only by a few gentlemen who soon shrugged and returned their attention to the conversation.