Eliza’s smile became fixed. “I am the eldest, yes,” she managed to reply, feeling heat crawl into her cheeks.
“And with a substantial dowry, I imagine?” Lady Montrose added, looking towards Lady Whitehaven with a slight lift to her brow. “As the eldest, I presume she will have the greatest portion?”
Stunned at this lady’s demeanor and rude questions, Eliza saw her mother lift her chin a notch, her eyes narrowing just a touch. “Indeed,” she said, softly, not looking towards Eliza.
For the next hour, Eliza was forced to endure Lady Montrose’s company, finding her more arrogant than anyone of her acquaintance. She disliked the tea, turned her nose up at all offers of any other refreshments, continued with her sharp questions and regarded Eliza with a slightly disappointed gaze, as though she believed her son could do a good deal better than the daughter of a marquess.
Eventually, the visit was at an end and Eliza allowed herself a breath of relief as Lady Montrose took her leave.
Lord Montrose, on the other hand, bowed over her hand, his lips pressing against her skin for a moment.
“I do hope, Eliza, that I might be permitted to call upon you tomorrow afternoon?” he said, looking up at her from his bow, his eyes filled with hope. “Perhaps we might take tea together and then enjoy a leisurely walk someplace?”
Thinking to herself that she would only require an afternoon visit from Lord Montrose in order to break off their engagement and bid him farewell, Eliza nodded, feeling the first sense of happiness that she had experienced for some days, simply at the thought of being parted from him forever.
“I should like that very much, Lord Montrose,” she replied, truthfully. “Tomorrow afternoon. I shall be prepared for your visit, you may have no doubt.”
Lord Montrose grinned at her, let go of her hand and turned towards Lady Whitehaven. A stream of insincere apologies flew from his mouth, bowing and scraping so that he might try and encourage Lady Whitehaven to forgive his impropriety in allowing his mother to visit without first procuring an invitation. It was, he said, simply because their families were soon to be joined and that he knew just how kind and gracious Lady Whitehaven was.
Eliza watched this with sharp eyes, finally realizing that everything that had been said of Lord Montrose was, most likely, true. She did not need to know the specifics of what Lord Hollard had meant, nor did she need to understand all that had gone before she had met Lord Montrose, but to see him now, so arrogant and so calculating in equal measure, Eliza had no doubt that he was precisely the gentleman Lord Hollard and Lord Franks knew him to be.
He was not kind. He was not generous. He had not turned his back on his past. When she had tried to question him, when she had tried to discover the truth, he had flung such guilt upon her shoulders that she had no other choice but to remain entirely silent, her questions forgotten. His manipulation of her stood out starkly, making her wince at her own weakness.
She ought to have put an end to their courtship upon the very first doubt she had felt about Lord Montrose. Even without Lord Avondale’s return, she should have considered her heart more carefully, should have seen his character for what it truly was.
A marriage partner was not something to be taken lightly.
“Good day to you, Lord Montrose,” she heard her mother say, her attention now back on Lord Montrose as he walked from the room. “And we shall see you again the morrow.”
Eliza waited until the door closed behind Lord Montrose before looking back at her mother, who was frowning darkly in the direction of the door. Apparently, her mother had also not taken to Lady Montrose, although Eliza could hardly be surprised at such a thing.
“Eliza,” Lady Whitehaven said, sternly, turning towards her. “I must warn you again about considering going forward with this marriage. After what we have just experienced, I cannot allow you to go forward knowing what kind of life you would have with both Lord Montrose and his mother present. It would be –”
Eliza held up one hand, stemming her mother’s words. “It is quite all right, Mama,” she said honestly. “I have thought about what you have said, and you are quite correct.” She allowed a small smile to creep over her face, seeing the relief leap into her mother’s eyes. “If you are quite certain that my sisters would be at ease with my crying off, despite what harm it may do them, then I have every intention of bringing my supposed engagement to Lord Montrose to an end.”
Her mother closed her eyes, tipped her head back and let a long sigh of relief escape her. “My dear Eliza,” she said, happily, looking back at her daughter. “I can assure you, that despite your many differences, your sisters love you dearly. They will be as glad as I am to know that Lord Montrose is no longer to be a part of your life.”
Eliza smiled, her heart growing warm at the thought of Lord Avondale. “I intend to seek out Lord Avondale thereafter, Mama,” she said, aware that the lack of surprise in her mother’s eyes was evidence that she had already expected this. “I may have to return home sooner than I had intended.”
“Which,” Lady Whitehaven replied, with a laugh, “most of your sisters and certainly your cousin will be glad of!” She shook her head and reached out to embrace Eliza. “I am glad it shall all be at an end very soon, my dear,” she said, holding Eliza close for a moment. “You have been through a great deal and I would see you happy – although not with Lord Montrose!”
“No, indeed not,” Eliza replied, laughing. “It shall be put to an end tomorrow, Mama, just as soon as he walks through the door.”
Chapter Eleven
The return to Jeremy’s estate was not as welcoming as he had hoped. The journey from London had been a long one and Jeremy had been tormented by troubling thoughts, unable to sleep or to even lay his head back to rest. He had thought of nothing but Eliza, the words of her sisters pouring over him and yet again, filling him with regret.
Not that he intended to return to London and speak to her, as they had asked. He would not mortify himself, not when she had clearly made up her mind to marry Lord Montrose and set herself away from Jeremy for good. They were not to share a life together, it seemed. It was all at an end and, somehow, he had to find a way through these dark and difficult days.
And he would have to do so entirely alone.
The staff had been as welcoming as he had expected, not making comment about his hasty and unexpected return to his country estate even though he knew it must have taken them a little by sur
prise. He had done nothing but sit in his study these last few days, trying to find a way to look through the cloud of darkness that surrounded him in the hope that he could find a way back to the light.
There came not even the smallest chink of brightness, not even the smallest modicum of happiness or contentment. His own home did not seem to want him, for he felt lost and out of place. Here, too, memories assailed him. Memories of bringing Rebecca home as his bride, of setting her up in her own rooms and reassuring her that he had no intention of making her his wife in the physical sense until a good deal of time had passed.
They had lived very separate lives within this large house and he had very rarely spent time in her company. Even now, her rooms lay to one side of the house, untouched and unopened since they had been set to rights after her death. The staff had seen to that, setting all of her possessions to one side and spreading sheets over it all.