Eliza reached out and pressed her mother’s hand gently, wanting to comfort her as best she could. This was, perhaps, the reason for her mother’s gentle compassion towards Lord Avondale upon hearing that his wife had passed away, for their grief could be shared and understood, even though their marriages had been of differing durations.
“May I ask when you lost your wife?” Lady Whitehaven questioned, letting go of Eliza’s hand as her voice grew a little stronger.
Lord Avondale’s expression tightened. “It was seven months after our wedding, Lady Whitehaven,” he said, surprising Eliza with the short time he had been wed. “Most unexpected and deeply saddening also.”
Lady Whitehaven nodded, whilst Eliza trained her eyes onto Lord Avondale, trying to make out his expression. There was a deep sadness in his face, his voice betraying the pain of the loss he felt, but there was something more there. An anger, mayhap? An anger that could not be truly expressed, an anger that he was doing his utmost to hide.
For a moment, Eliza was caught up in a cloud of questions, wondering why Lord Avondale appeared so and questioning what it was he wished to say to her in light of his wife’s death, but then she recalled her own fury and turned away from all thoughts of speaking to him further.
“We have completed our mourning, as you can see,” Lady Whitehaven finished, gesturing towards Eliza. “We have come to London for the Season and, thus far, my daughters are doing rather well. Dinah, of course, is the exception.”
This was spoken with a good deal more friendliness than before, sending Eliza’s stomach twisting with frustration. She did not want her mother to allow the sympathy and understanding that she felt over Lord Avondale’s loss to begin to encourage the friendship that had once been between their families.
Lord Avondale nodded, although he did not appear particularly interested in hearing about Dinah. His gaze returned to settle on Eliza, his expression fixed as though he were preparing himself for her complete and thorough rejection.
“You will not allow me to speak with you then, Miss Wells?” he asked, no longer addressing her as ‘Eliza’, as he once had. “Not even to allow me to explain what has gone before?”
She looked at him steadily, her answer already certain. “I fear, Lord Avondale, that it is much too late for explanations. I have no need of them, and you have no requirement to give them to me.”
He shuffled his feet, his head low. “I have never forgotten you, Miss Wells. I have been quite unable to do so.”
Shocked at his free way of speaking, particularly in front of her mother, Eliza caught her breath and looked away, hating the climbing heat that was already making its way into her face.
“Lord Avondale.” Her mother’s reproach was soft yet determined.
“You must forgive me,” Lord Avondale replied at once, although he did not sound in the least bit apologetic. “I have been quite tormented ever since my parting from your daughter, Lady Whitehaven, and now that there is the opportunity to explain myself to her completely, I find myself longing to do so, even if it is only for the most selfish of motives.”
Lady Whitehaven arched an eyebrow, throwing a glance at Eliza. Eliza shook her head sharply, making her decision quite clear. She wanted nothing to do with Lord Avondale any longer.
“Selfish, Lord Avondale?”
“I wish to assuage my guilt, somewhat,” Lord Avondale confessed. “I wish I had never spoken so cruelly or treated Miss Wells so disparagingly, but the circumstances at the time required me to separate myself from her entirely. What I would not do for the opportunity to return to that moment and beg her forgiveness for my actions!” His voice became strained with emotion and, much to her frustration, Eliza felt her own heart begin to soften just a little, losing some of the anger that burned within her.
“There is a good deal more to explain, Miss Wells,” Lord Avondale finished, looking at her beseechingly. “If only you would give me the opportunity to do so, then there might be an end to the anger and frustration you bear towards me.”
Eliza shook h
er head, refusing to allow anything she felt to hold sway over her decision. “Lord Avondale, as I have said before, things between us are quite at an end. You chose to do so, did you not? How can you now claim that you have always been desperate in your urgency to share an explanation with me when the opportunity was there some two years ago?” She tossed her head, her dark ringlets bouncing. “I shall not change my mind, Lord Avondale. I have chosen to leave you in the past, which is where you shall stay. I have other gentlemen to consider now.”
Much to her surprise, she saw that Lord Avondale’s face fell at these words, appearing quite crestfallen that she had forgotten him entirely. What had he expected? Had he expected her to still be clinging onto his memory, even in the knowledge that he was married and settled? Eliza had to admit that she was more relieved than ever that she had chosen to allow Lord Montrose to court her, glad that she could now state, quite clearly, that she was by the side of another gentleman. That was proof that she had determined to forget Lord Avondale entirely, was it not?
“My daughter is being courted by Lord Montrose,” Lady Whitehaven said, by way of explanation. “The Earl of Montrose, I should say.” She smiled and patted Eliza’s shoulder. “We are all very pleased for her, of course, for he appears to be a wonderful gentleman.”
Eliza set her face and looked steadily back at Lord Avondale, who was shaking his head as though she had imparted some truly dreadful news. For some minutes, nothing was said, the air growing thick with tension as it clouded the room. Eliza felt her heart begin to quicken, praying that Lord Avondale would not be able to hear what she was sure was an audible thumping.
“I am much too late, then,” Lord Avondale replied, heavily, not looking at either Eliza or her mother. “It is just as I expected, of course.” He shrugged and began to turn away, hopelessness wrapping itself around him like a thick, dark cloak. “I should never have treated you as I did, Eliza, but there was nothing else for me to do. I had no choice. Mayhap one day you will seek an explanation from me, and I must tell you, Eliza, that I will always be glad to give it.”
Eliza could not speak, her heart in her throat as she heard her name upon his lips. It sounded so familiar and yet so foreign in equal measure. Her whole being was flung back headlong into the memories of the two of them together – the laughter, the joy and the happiness they had once shared.
He was the one who tore that from you, she reminded herself, sternly. Do not permit him to use those memories to soften your heart now.
“I do not think I shall ever do so, Lord Avondale,” she replied, firmly, as his steps led him to the door. “As I said, I have chosen to set the past aside and turned my heart towards another.”
Lord Avondale nodded miserably, his eyes barely making it to hers before dropping to the floor again.
“You will be more than welcome to call again, however, Lord Avondale,” Lady Whitehaven said, much to Eliza’s dismay. “You have friends here, as you know. We shall not reject you entirely, nor give you the cut direct.”
Lord Avondale gave Lady Whitehaven a small smile, although it did not reach his eyes. “That is most gracious of you, Lady Whitehaven, and certainly shows a good deal more kindness than I have ever deserved,” he replied, sadly. “Would that I had shown your daughter the same consideration two years ago. I will express to you both again my deepest regret and my humble apologies, with the only explanation being that I had no other choice. My hands were bound completely, and I was not free to do anything but turn from Miss Wells entirely. Had I been able to make my own decisions, then you would have found me here as Miss Wells’ betrothed, and not as her enemy.”