“May I say that it is very good to see you both again,” Lord Avondale said softly, his eyes lingering on Eliza again. “It has been some time, has it not?”
Eliza somehow managed to find her voice, her anger beginning to flare as she looked at the man who had betrayed her so, who had broken her completely, and now, in the very same way he had disappeared from her life, had chosen to reappear, simply due to his own desires and wishes. Had he no understanding of the torment she had endured by his hand? Had he no knowledge of what he had inflicted upon her?
“It has, Lord Avondale,” she replied, tautly. “And yet, it has not seemed prolonged to me.”
She did not know what he would make of this remark, knowing that it was nothing more than a lie but not wanting to reveal the depth of her emotion to him. Her heart was raw and bleeding, anger and fury and discontent burning through her. She had only just set her mind and her heart against him and now here he stood, seeming to think that he could intrude upon her life again?
How foolish she had been to believe that she loved him still! She did not, not when he was so hard and cruel as to simply reappear at her mother’s house, forcing his way into the drawing room instead of remaining outside as propriety di
ctated. Anger like she had never known before burned within her, her cheeks growing hot with fury as she regarded Lord Avondale, refusing to allow his unsettling gaze to affect her.
Lord Avondale cleared his throat and shifted his feet a little, his discomfort evident.
“I have returned to London, as you can see,” he stated, in a somewhat strangled voice. “I – I had hoped that you might allow me a few moments alone with Miss Wells, Lady Whitehaven.” His eyes turned towards Lady Whitehaven, filled with hope and expectation.
Thankfully, Lady Whitehaven did not appear to be as unbending as Lord Avondale would have wished her to be.
“You wish to speak to my daughter alone, Lord Avondale?” she repeated, sounding more than astonished. “I hardly think that is in any way proper.”
Lord Avondale inclined his head, although Eliza noted that he did not look ashamed in any way. “Be that as it may, Lady Whitehaven, I had hoped that with the friendship that was once between us, you might permit me to do so regardless. I have nothing but good intentions for your daughter.”
“As you once did?” Lady Whitehaven replied, icily, arching an eyebrow. “You can hardly believe that we have forgotten what occurred between yourself and Eliza now, can you?”
Eliza smiled darkly as Lord Avondale shook his head, his eyes lowering to the ground at his feet. Finally, it seemed, he felt a little shame over his actions towards her. At least there was some comfort in that.
“I – I am aware that it is much too late to make amends, Lady Whitehaven, but I do wish to speak plainly to Miss Wells.”
“Why are you here, Avondale?”
The words ripped from Eliza’s throat before she could prevent them, finding her hands planted firmly on her hips, her back stiff with tension. She glared at Lord Avondale as he looked back at her, seeing the way his jaw worked, his eyes fixed upon hers. He lifted his head, standing tall and strong, just as she remembered him.
And yet she felt as though she had never truly known him at all. Even now, he was shrouded in secrecy and confusion, and Eliza discovered that she did not wish to know the truth about him any longer. She had made her mind up, had she not? She had decided to accept Lord Montrose’s offer of courtship and was not about to turn her back on him now, simply because Lord Avondale had returned! The thought was quite preposterous.
“I – I have come in search of you, Eliza,” Lord Avondale said, spreading his arms out wide as though this gesture of truth might make her believe he was being honest. “There is a good deal that was left unsaid, a good deal that I did not clarify before and now the time has come for me to do so.”
Before she could stop herself, Eliza let out a snort of derision, tossing her head. “You must believe, therefore, that I have spent these last two years desperately waiting for your return, Lord Avondale. You must believe that I am still in agony over your behavior, clinging to a hope that you will one day return to explain it all to me.” She poured scorn into her words, declaring it as much to herself as to Lord Avondale. Her own foolishness mocked her but she continued on regardless, seeing Lord Avondale’s eyes lose the tiny spark of hope that had been held within. “I have quite forgotten you, Lord Avondale. I am already being courted by another.”
She saw him stiffen, as though her words had truly pierced him.
“I think, Lord Avondale, that my daughter has made herself quite clear on the matter,” Lady Whitehaven said, softly, dropping her hand from Eliza’s arm as though she recognized that Eliza no longer required her support. “You may leave us.”
Lord Avondale shook his head, looking down at the floor and making no attempt to do as Lady Whitehaven had asked. Eliza felt herself grow even more frustrated, horrified that tears were pricking at her eyes. She did not wish him to see anything but anger and disfavor in her eyes, knowing that to allow him to see her tears would do her more harm than good. It might allow him to see just how truly hurt she was by his rejection of her, how much of a burden she still carried – and she could not allow that to occur.
“You may return to your wife, Lord Avondale,” she said, bluntly, waving him away with one hand. “I am sure that she will be missing your presence already.”
Something began to crackle in the air between them. A deep, unsettling tension began to wash over them both, making Eliza’s stomach churn uncomfortably, as though she knew that something was wrong in what she had said.
Lord Avondale’s expression grew haunted, his face appearing to pale as he regarded her. Eliza pressed one hand lightly against her stomach, forcing herself to take deep, even breaths.
“My wife is gone,” Lord Avondale replied, heavily, his voice dropping low. “I have been in mourning for some time. It has come to an end now, of course, but…..” He trailed off, looking away from them both, his jaw working furiously.
“I am very sorry for the loss of your Duchess,” Lady Whitehaven replied, her voice holding a good deal more sympathy than Eliza had expected. “We too have experienced such a loss.”
Lord Avondale nodded, turning his head back towards them both. “Of course,” he said, shaking his head. “Do forgive me for not expressing my condolences to you earlier.” He inclined his head. “Lord Whitehaven was a great man and a most respectable gentleman. I am certain that you must feel his loss most keenly.”
There was a heavy silence for a moment and Eliza glanced up at her mother, seeing the lines of pain forming around her eyes.
“We do,” Lady Whitehaven replied, thickly. “It is with me every day.”