Walking along the quiet hallway, Jeremy let out a long breath, trying to quell the trembling anger that was biting at every part of him. How dare Lord Montrose speak so callously of Eliza? To consider that she could easily be set aside whilst he went to enjoy himself with his mistress? It was quite intolerable and all Jeremy wanted to do was go back into the dining room and plant Lord Montrose a facer – but his good sense held him back from doing such a thing. His other choice was, of course, to go in search of Eliza and tell her what he had overheard, praying that she would both be willing to listen to him and thereafter, believe what he had to say.
Shaking his head, Jeremy took long strides in the direction of the gardens, not hesitating for another moment. The time had come to speak to her – either about what he heard or about Rebecca, whichever she wished to hear. He was not about to let this moment pass without taking a hold of it.
Finding Eliza was easy enough. She was sitting on a wooden bench only a few feet from the door, her shawl wrapped around her shoulders and her face tipped up to the sky. The moon was high in the sky, sending its silky light over the gardens and cladding Eliza in even more beauty.
Jeremy felt his breath taken from him as he watched her, feeling the same agony of regret that filled him every time he even thought of her or spoke her name.
“Eliza.”
She lowered her head and looked at him, not showing any hint of surprise. Mayhap she had been expecting him, mayhap she had thought that, after what he had overheard, he would then come to speak to her alone. She did not seem unwilling to talk to him, did not rise to her feet and ask him to depart. Inst
ead, she simply watched him as he took a few steps towards her.
The air grew thick between them, the tension and expectation so palpable that it was as though he could reach out and touch it. Instead, he cleared his throat, put his hands behind his back and tried to smile.
“Eliza, I must talk to you.”
Eliza let out a long, heavy sigh, as though she had been expecting as much. “Yes, Avondale. I thought you might wish to do so.”
“Will you listen?”
“What is it you wish to speak of?” she asked, pulling her shawl a little tighter as though it would be a protection for her heart. “The past? Lord Montrose? Titania?”
“Titania?” He frowned, not understanding why she thought to mention her sister. “No, indeed not.”
This seemed to throw her somewhat. “Oh.” She looked away, a slight frown appearing between her brows.
“I have just come from the house,” Jeremy said, softly. “Oh, Eliza, I could not bear to remain in Lord Montrose’s company for a moment longer. The way he spoke of you….” He trailed off, shaking his head as he tried to find the words to explain what he had heard whilst still taking her feelings into consideration.
“You have spoken to Titania, then.” Eliza’s voice was dull, her face still turned away from his. “You seek to come between us both.”
Jeremy spread his hands. “I will never force you to separate yourself from Lord Montrose, Eliza,” he said, honestly. “I would, however like the opportunity to tell you what sort of gentleman he is, as well as the chance to explain what occurred between us two years ago.” He swallowed hard, seeing her finally look back at him. “Is that too much to ask?”
Eliza sighed and shook her head, but it was not to be the answer that Jeremy had hoped for. “Avondale, I have made up my mind about Lord Montrose. I have already been shamed into facing my doubts about the man and I would not want to do so again.”
He did not know what she was speaking of but took another earnest step forward, urgency coursing through him. “Lord Montrose does not care for you, Eliza.”
Her head shot up and he was astonished at the anger that seemed to burn in her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Jeremy replied, slowly, “that the way he has spoken of you only a few minutes ago, in hearing of all the gentlemen there, was not the way a gentleman should speak of the lady he is courting.”
Eliza stared at him for a moment before rising to her feet, her breath catching as she turned away from him. She took a few short steps, her whole frame tight with tension. Jeremy did not know what to say nor what to do, a trifle confused at her reaction.
“Lord Montrose can be a little coarse, I grant you,” she said, in a strangled voice. “But that means nothing. It is simply that he needs to perhaps reconsider how much fine brandy he partakes of.”
Jeremy shook his head, walking closer to her, his hand reaching out to touch her shoulder. Fire burned in his gut as he let his hand rest there, feeling her stop dead beneath his touch. His thumb grazed her neck, the softness of her skin, the gentle touch of her hair making his heart cry out for her all over again.
She turned, then, but Jeremy did not let his hand fall. Instead, he waited until she was facing him before letting it settle there again, seeing the way her eyes flickered with uncertainty.
He was not attempting to come between herself and Lord Montrose deliberately, nor was he lying about what he had heard, but he could well understand if Eliza thought that he was doing so in order to set her asunder. He had to try and reassure her, had to try and make her understand that he was telling her this simply for her own good, so that she would not walk into this marriage with her eyes shut.
“I do not know if Lord Montrose has intentions of proposing to you, Eliza,” Jeremy said, softly, looking deeply into her eyes. “He may very well do so soon but I beg of you to be careful. I am not expecting you to refuse him and return to me, although that would be the answer to my oft uttered, agonized prayers over you, but I tell you this simply because I want you to be careful.”
“What did you hear Lord Montrose say?” Eliza asked softly, standing completely still, her eyes fixed on his. “I would hear it from you, Avondale.”
Jeremy nodded, taking in a long breath and knowing that he would hurt her by his words. “I believe he was considering Lady Barclay most carefully,” he said, cautiously. “It was mentioned that a gentleman can often have a mistress and a wife.” He held his breath, seeing the words settle onto her. Eliza closed her eyes, her chest heaving with emotion as she considered what he had said. Jeremy fought the urge to pull her into his arms, to reassure her that he would never do such a thing should he be given the opportunity to have her by his side again.
After a few moments, Eliza opened her eyes and looked up at him. “I do not know what to think,” she said, honestly. “That does not seem to me to be the sort of thing that Lord Montrose would say.”