“That’s a'cause he ain’t guilty o’ the things Mr McAlister’s done.”

Lizzy sent her maid a combative look. “And what do you suppose those are, Mabel? What are his crimes? Kidnap? Murder? I don’t think so, otherwise he’d be locked up in gaol or facing the noose.” Lizzy clenched her fists, raising her arms so Mabel could help her out of her dress. “I’ll wager that if you asked anyone who was actually involved, they’ll tell you that those weren’t his crimes at all. No, society has painted him as all these terrible things, and if he is to marry, then the lady who has accepted him obviously knows better. Oh, but I’d like to meet her and hear her account. Mr McAlister is my hero and I…I love him, Mabel; yes, I do!” She covered her face with her hands. “I just wish he loved me back!”

And as Theo lay on his bed later, unable to sleep, he stared at the ceiling of the sumptuous guest chamber he had been allotted and could think only of Lizzy’s refreshing enthusiasm and innocent charm.

How easy it would have been to have taken what she offered—her love—in return for a ring upon her finger. Honourable marriage. That’s what they both wanted, and yet it would be so dishonourable if Theo were to give in to the stirrings of his heart.

She was just a chit of a thing and far too young to be a wife.

He tried telling himself this, and yet when he thought of Lizzy marrying Dalgle

ish, instead, he felt only the greatest dismay for her future happiness, and disappointment for what Theo was losing as a result.

It was many hours before a restless, anxious sleep finally claimed him. And his last waking reflection was how fully alive he had felt when he’d kissed Lizzy in the Long Gallery, and what a sense of peaceful satisfaction he’d felt knowing what she truly felt about him.

“What’s the matter with you, girl?” Mrs Hodge’s bulk took up much of the doorway to Lizzy’s bedchamber as she regarded her charge through narrowed eyes the following morning. “Do you intend sleeping the whole day away?”

“Why does it matter to you?” Lizzy pulled the covers over her head like a child in her best attempt to put Mrs Hodge out of humour.

It worked. “You know very well that young ladies have responsibilities, and yours is to deport yourself with grace and charm,” Mrs Hodge said through gritted teeth, marching up to the bed and whisking off the bedcovers.

“You’re forever telling me I have none of either,” Lizzy muttered, curling herself in a ball before seizing the covers and pulling them back over her head. “I don’t have to do what you tell me to do if I don’t want to.” She felt safer saying this in a stranger’s house where Mrs Hodge was unlikely to screech as she usually did when she and Lizzy were at loggerheads.

“I’d have thought you’d want to very much,” Mrs Hodge said threateningly, “if you only think how I can make life uncomfortable for you. You’ve been a drain on my purse for the past five years, and I’m as tired of having you in my household as you clearly are to be forever under my feet.” With a deft flick of her wrist she once more whisked off the covers and, with a groan, Lizzy sat up on the soft featherdown mattress. So much more comfortable than her own at home. So much more enticing a prospect to imagine she could sleep on something similar when she finally quit Mrs Hodge’s household.

And, indeed, that’s really what she needed to do if she were to keep her sanity.

But at what cost? Mr Dalgleish? Was he really the one for her? She had thought he might be when she’d set out on this adventure.

Mrs Hodge loomed over her, hands on hips. “There’s a jug of water. No longer hot but you’ll have to make the best of it. Tidy yourself up. I will send Mabel to dress you and arrange your hair. You look a perfect fright! Mr Dalgleish was asking after you but half an hour ago, and I said I’d send you down shortly.”

“What if I don’t want to see Mr Dalgleish?”

A terrible silence greeted this pronouncement and then Mrs Hodge was like a dervish. “He is your salvation! You said those very words to me not five days ago when you railed at me for keeping you like a gaoler. He is my salvation for you are an ungrateful, lazy, slovenly girl, and he has agreed to take you off my hands and provide you with all the comforts you have ever dreamed of. The very comforts you’ve lamented you are so deprived of.” Mrs Hodge gripped Lizzy’s shoulders and shook her forcefully. “You will marry Mr Dalgleish. Indeed, you will!”

“But maybe I want to marry someone else instead.” Lizzy retreated into the corner and stared at Mrs Hodge, warily. “It would still amount to the same thing. I’d be off your hands.”

The response was interesting. Mrs Hodge stiffened, and a look of shock crossed her face. For a moment, Lizzy contemplated challenging her with the fact that she was almost certain Mr Dalgleish was paying her to broker the match but quickly thought better of it. Besides, what did it really matter if Mrs Hodge was benefitting through Mr Dalgleish? Lizzy was hardly going to benefit from her fortune. She’d long ago resigned herself to this. A woman was pushed from one protector to another, and the fortune that came with it was something she profited from only through the kindness of spouse, father, or brother.

Mr Dalgleish had presented himself as a handsome, interesting, and interested suitor. There were no others lining up. An image of Theo’s beautiful soft lips and the real ardour in his eyes burned her but the fact was, that when it came to suitors, Mr Dalgleish was the only one.

“Do you?” There was a strange note to Mrs Hodge’s voice as she moved ominously towards Lizzy. “Do you want to marry someone else?”

“Maybe,” Lizzy said, as she shook off Mrs Hodge’s hands, scrambling off her bed to make for her dressing table.

Mrs Hodge’s nostrils flared. “Who is he? A fortune hunter, no doubt?”

“And Mr Dalgleish isn’t?” After the traumatic evening Lizzy had had, and the dismal reality she was now contemplating—that the man she loved was not going to marry her—she found a perverse enjoyment in baiting the older woman.

“The only reason there might be someone else is if you’ve behaved like a grubby little trollop to whip up his interest.”

Lizzy hoped the shame that bubbled up inside her didn’t reveal itself in her expression. Mrs Hodge could smell weakness a mile away. And since Lizzy had discovered this not so long after arriving in her household, she’d been very sure not to show it. She had become practised at hiding her feelings from the woman. But clearly, not so good at that when it came to charming gentlemen.

“Mr Dalgleish has impeccable credentials.” Mrs Hodge’s voice held a warning.

“And so does the gentleman I might prefer to marry.”

“Who is he?” Mrs Hodge’s voice was like a whip.

Tags: Beverley Oakley Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net