Chasing Eliza (Cavendish Mysteries 3)

“Do you think this is wise?” Edward whispered, taking the stairs downwards alongside his elder sibling.

“No, but I understand Peter’s sense of urgency. We really don’t know when they are planning to carry out the next spate of hangings. Hopefully we aren’t too late. The man from the War Office hasn’t arrived yet so it looks like it is down to us.”

Edward sighed and smothered a yawn. He really wanted to climb the stairs and crawl into the bed beside Eliza, but a gnawing sense of urgency dogged his every footstep.

The sudden chiming of the large grandfather clock as they passed hung like an ominous omen in the silence of the large cavernous hallway as the men slipped into the night.

Chapter Eleven

When Eliza awoke the following morning, her thoughts immediately turned to the men and her sister at the Gaol.

As she stretched against the luxurious softness of the thick mattress, guilt assailed her. She should be over at the Gaol arguing to get Jemima released, and felt practically useless just lying around in bed. Eyeing the bell pull for several moments, Eliza shook her head with a sigh and eased from the crisp sheets.

She had removed her dirty clothing the night before and was now left with a problem. Should she don the same dirty and smelly clothing she had worn for the past few days? Or should she ring for a maid and request a dress? She had never rung for a maid before in her entire life and was filled with uncertainty.

Her problem was answered for her when the door suddenly opened and a young maid quietly entered. She drew to a startled halt as she saw Eliza and mumbled a hasty apology.

“I’m sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean to disturb you. The mistress told me to bring you this by the mistress.” She carefully placed the most stunning dress Eliza had ever seen on the chair beside the bed and stood back to wait for further instruction.

Eliza stared longingly at the beautiful cloud of pale peach muslin liberally sprinkled with tiny pink flowers that awaited her. The long flowing material was gathered beneath the bust and embellished with lace edging and tiny capped sleeves made of the most stunning lace.

She followed the young maid’s lead and saw to her ablutions, before stepping into the dress the maid held out for her. Encased in the softest muslin, Eliza was speechless as she sat at the dressing table and watched the maid set about her startling transformation. She watched with something akin to awe as her hair was primped, curled and pinned into a riotous cascade of curls upon her head to complete her look of regal elegance.

It had been some time since she had seen herself in a looking glass and Eliza took a moment to study the astonishing transform

ation that had happened in such a short space of time. Not only did the dress make her look like someone she didn’t know, but there were other changes to her that were startling.

Her breasts were still full and round but her waist was thinner than ever before. Her curves more pronounced due to her recent arduous riding and lack of appetite. She twirled in front of the mirror, delighting in the simple feel of the soft material against her skin. She felt like a princess.

The thought made her pause, a slight frown on her face as she considered the vision in the mirror. Her feminine delight in the new luxuries waned as she remembered her sister wallowing in squalid filth in a condemned cell in the darkest parts of Derby Gaol.

She jumped at the light knock on the door and turned to wait.

After several long moments when nothing happened, Eliza called out a hesitant. “Come in.” Not certain if the person knocking was waiting for a response or not. It felt strange to be in command of anyone other than herself.

“The mistress asked if you would like to come down for breakfast or if you wanted a tray in your room ma’am.” The young maid murmured respectfully.

“Oh – erm, I will go down please but I need you to show me because I don’t know my way.” Eliza murmured apologetically. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“My name is Maggie, ma’am. I’ll be your maid while you are here.”

“Hello Maggie.” Eliza paused. Should she introduce herself as Eliza? ‘Ma’am’ sounded awfully pompous. But she had never had a maid to herself before; how friendly was she supposed to be?

“My name is Eliza, Maggie. I hope you and I can become friends while I am here.” She offered hesitantly, looking at the flicker of surprise on the young maid’s face with concern.

“Oh, ma’am if you are ever so sure?” The young maid gasped, clearly relieved that the new guest was so affable.

Eliza nodded decisively. “Now, if you can show me where the breakfast room is, I am a little hungry.” She felt inordinately pleased to have cleared that particular hurdle without too much embarrassment and followed the maid from the room.

Within moments she found herself entering the luxuriously furnished breakfast room. In the centre of the large room stood a long, highly polished table set with the finest crystal and silverware that positively gleamed in the early morning sunshine.

At the far end, two beautiful ladies sat deep in conversation as they ate toast and fruit.

“You must be Eliza.” The tall, dark haired lady with a large rounded tummy stood and smiled warmly at her, beckoning her closer. “Dominic told me last night you were here. I’m Isobel, Dominic’s wife and this is Amelia.”

She stood back and motioned to an auburn haired woman sitting next to her.

Within moments Eliza found herself seated beside them, eating breakfast supplied by an efficient footman while patiently answering the steady flow of questions.