Eliza laughed softly and, before he could stop her, reached up and rapped sharply on the roof. “Oh, Lord Montrose, you are quite ridiculous sometimes,” she said, teasingly. “You know very well that balls can be a terrible crush and make it almost impossible for anyone to be seen!” She shook her head at him in mock amusement, letting her lips curve into a laughing smile. “Come now, it shall be quite wonderful to see Miss Stapleton again.”
Lord Montrose had no opportunity to protest, for the carriage had already come to a stop and the door had been opened for Eliza to climb down onto the grass. She did not wait for Lord Montrose but hurried towards Miss Stapleton who, much to Eliza’s relief, greeted her with a warm smile.
“Good afternoon,” Miss Stapleton said, once she had greeted Lord Montrose who had hurried behind Eliza. “How very good to see you again, Miss Wells.”
“And you, Miss Stapleton,” Eliza replied, smiling. “Are you enjoying the afternoon?”
Some small pleasantries passed between the four of them for a few minutes, leaving Eliza a little frustrated. She did not know what she had been intending by insisting that they greet Miss Stapleton and Lord Hollard, but it had been Lord Montrose’s obvious unwillingness that had encouraged her to do precisely that.
“You have not taken Lord Franks’ warnings on board, then, I see, Miss Wells,” Lord Hollard said, grandly, nudging Lord Montrose’s arm. “Unless he has easily been able to take you in with his fine words and grand excuses, as I am certain he has done with many others before – and certainly his own dear mother!”
Eliza sank into her relief, seeing the way that Lord Montrose’s eyes flared for a moment with surprise. “Indeed,” she said, blithely, trying to pretend she did not see Lord Montrose’s astonishment. “I confess that I have not spoken to Lord Montrose of what was said, so he has not had any need to try and find any ‘grand excuses’, as you say.” She smiled up at Lord Hollard, a twinkle in her eye. “Indeed, I think that a gentleman’s past indiscretion may not be a true reflection of his present character. Do you not think that fair, Miss Stapleton?”
Miss Stapleton laughed, her eyes dancing as she took in Lord Montrose’s uncomfortable stance. “I think, Miss Wells, that you are more generous than I,” she replied, honestly. “Although Lord Montrose must be more than grateful for your consideration of him.”
Lord Montrose cleared his throat, sending a sharp glance towards Eliza. “Yes, of course,” he stammered, obviously entirely uncertain as to what was specifically being said. “More than grateful.”
Eliza hid a smile and nodded at Lord Montrose as though she approved of his response. In her heart, however, she began to wonder just precisely what kind of gentleman Lord Montrose had been and just how much he would attempt to hide the truth from her. “We must not continue to embarrass Lord Montrose in this way, however,” she continued, allowing a quiet laugh to escape from her. “What shall we talk of next?”
Thankfully, the conversation quickly moved onto other things, such as who was throwing the next ball and whether or not a masquerade ball was quite the thing to be attending or not this year. Eliza listened with half an ear, her attention still caught by Lord Montrose’s slightly pale face, aware that his usual easy smile no longer came quickly to his lips.
Once they had taken their leave and were making their way back to the carriage, Eliza heard Lord Montrose mutter something under his breath, her thoughts beginning to churn through her mind in earnest. Would he be the one to bring up what had been said? Or would she have to do so, when it became clear that he was attempting to set it aside completely?
“We should return you home, Miss Wells,” Lord Montrose said, the moment he climbed into the carriage. “That is, I confess, why I did not wish to linger in conversation. I would much prefer to be in your company and, therefore, not waste the precious time I have with you by spending it with others.”
This compliment was, Eliza was sure, meant to make her blush prettily, but she had no intention of doing such a thing. Eyeing Lord Montrose carefully, she sat back in her seat and folded her hands in her lap.
“I quite enjoyed our conversation,” she said, with a slight lift of her shoulders. “I am sorry you did not.”
Lord Montrose looked away quickly, just as the carriage began to roll forward again. “It is not that I did not enjoy it, Miss Wells, but more that I found myself wishing that I was in your company alone.”
Eliza smiled at him, aware that this was meant to be her response, finding his unwillingness to talk about what had been said to be a trifle concerning.
“You have not asked me what Lord Hollard meant by his comment about what Lord Franks mentioned,” she said, keeping her eyes trained on Lord Montrose so that she might not miss even the smallest of reactions. “Does it not interest you?”
Lord Montrose shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on the passing scenery out of the window. “I confess, Miss Wells, that I care very little about what others say of me.” His eyes slid back to hers. “It is only your opinion that interests me, my dear.”
Eliza nodded but did not smile. “I met with Lord Franks, Lord Hollard
and Miss Stapleton previously,” she explained. “Lord Franks had some interesting comments as regards your character, Lord Montrose.” She did not know why she was suddenly so eager to discover what Lord Montrose would have to say about such a revelation, especially when she had been so determined not to allow her mind to be troubled by such a thing, but she felt almost obliged to continue. “You do not wish to know what such remarks might be?”
Lord Montrose sighed, clasped his hands in front of him and looked at her with a slight hardness to his brown eyes. “As I have said, Miss Wells, I care very little for the opinions of others and I confess, I am a little surprised that you have found yourself so interested in such a thing also.”
His slight rebuke had Eliza flinching, a warm glow of shame beginning to wash over her. “It is only that I find myself wondering if their view of your character and my view can truly be so far apart,” she replied, trying her best to put into words the fear that she felt growing slowly within her. “When Lord Franks described you, I felt as though I did not know the person he was discussing.”
Lord Montrose frowned, his mouth pulling into a hard line. “Why do you feel the need to listen to and discuss my character with anyone other than myself, Miss Wells?” he asked, his voice growing deeper. “Am I not here before you now? Have I not evidenced the sort of gentleman I am with every passing second that we share together?” He shook his head, his breath coming out in a hiss, as though he was truly upset with what she was attempting to do. “I am disappointed that you would give so much consideration to another gentleman’s remarks about my character, Miss Wells, particularly when you yourself do not know the gentleman in question very well at all!” His gaze grew stern, one eyebrow lifting slightly. “Is it that you do not trust your own judgement?”
Eliza lifted her chin, refusing to give into the guilt that was biting at her. “It is more than reasonable for me to listen to remarks made by those who have known you a good deal longer than I,” she stated, firmly, not allowing herself to be cowed by Lord Montrose’s harsh remarks. “That is understandable, is it not? It is, for example, quite reasonable for you to speak to my mother or my sisters so that you might understand me a little better.” Inwardly, of course, Eliza prayed that he would not, a little afraid what some of her sisters might say about her – or that one might mention Lord Avondale to him. “What Lord Franks stated was, I confess, a little worrisome.”
Lord Montrose seemed to rise up in his seat, expanding in the carriage until she was forced to shrink back. His color rose steadily, his obvious anger becoming more and more apparent as he looked back at her.
“I do not care what Lord Franks had to say about my character, Miss Wells,” he exclaimed, furiously. “If I were to speak to your sisters or to your mama, as you have stated, then I am certain that some of them may tell me of mistakes or upsets that you caused at one time. That should have no bearing on my consideration of you now, should it? It should simply be evidence of my own weak character, of my own weak considerations that have my mind tumbling over questions and fears and concerns instead of simply allowing my heart to know the true measure of itself.” One hand, curled into a fist, slammed down into the other, making Eliza jump. “I am not a gentleman of either weak character or uncertain mind, Miss Wells. The question, however, is whether or not you have such traits within you and, if so, what it is you intend to do about them? Are you going to continue to question others as regards my suitability or will you allow yourself to be guided by your own heart and by what you know of me?”
His voice had filled the carriage, startling both the maid and Eliza. Eliza could hear blood roaring in her ears, her face filling with color as Lord Montrose continued to glare at her, his questions remaining unanswered. She felt ashamed and confused, not knowing what to say or what to do. It was more than a little mortifying.
“I can see,” Lord Montrose continued, harshly, “that I am required to give you a little more time to consider matters, Miss Wells. We shall continue as before, of course, but if you have any more doubts about me, if your mind is filled with questions about my character, then I would have you confess it to me at once, so that we might bring this charade to an end.”
“Charade?” Eliza repeated, quietly, surprised at how soft her voice was. “What do you mean, Lord Montrose?”