Page 44 of A Single Obsession

Chapter 19

Eliza did not enjoy the journey to Alton. Although she had counted down the days, now that the house party had arrived, she half-wished she wasn’t going.

She didn’t cherish the thought of exchanging the precious company of her sisters for that of her cousin, whilst the dreadful prospect of living under her aunt’s roof for several weeks threatened to stifle her pleasurable anticipation of spending time with Beau.

If he even wanted her there. Despite her bold declarations in his defence, she could not dismiss Georgie’s fears from her mind. Perhaps it was true he had only invited her because his mother told him to and not because he cared for her.

Beau’s behaviour since delivering the invitation had done nothing to reassure her. He had forgotten he’d agreed to take her for a drive the Tuesday after, and he had been markedly absent from the two balls she had attended in the week that followed. She would have felt neglected if she hadn’t been well-acquainted with the racing calendar and knew he was in Newmarket.

The only time she had seen him was when the Four in Hand Club met. Lord Castleford had driven her and her sisters to watch the members lining up their carriages before they set out. It had been a proud moment, seeing Beau sat on the box of his barouche behind both pairs of matched bays, dressed in the colours of the club, with Anthony alongside him.

But there had been no chance for conversation, and she hadn’t seen him since.

By the time the carriage was half-way to Alton, Eliza felt sick with anticipation. She looked so pale that her maid fussed and insisted on her using the smelling salts, which she always had on hand when travelling.

Sarah pinched her mistress’s cheeks. “Can’t have you arriving to see his lordship looking like a ghost.”

“I am here to entertain Lady Frances.”

“Of course you are. Quite natural for you to come away when the season is in full swing just to please your aunt.”

Eliza glared at her. How was it that a lady’s maid was always familiar with her mistress’s business? She’d said nothing to the woman to reveal the state of her heart, but somehow, she knew.

It was reassuring to know she had an ally in Sarah. With the ordeal ahead of her, she might need one.

When the travelling chariot pulled up outside Holybourne House, it was a very weary Eliza who stepped down. Thank goodness the journey was over. She hated travelling in a closed carriage, and would have liked to have ridden part of the way.

At least Finch had gone to fetch Whisper from her parents’ home, so she could ride her own horse tomorrow.

Eliza looked around, expecting to see Beau waiting to greet her, but he wasn’t. She bit back her disappointment, reasoning that she could not have expected him to remain inside on such a fine day.

The butler greeted her with all due state, but there was the slightest hint of a smile in his eyes when they rested on her, recognising her from her previous visits.

“Lady Harting apologises for not being here to greet you in person,” he said. “She is visiting Lady Whitlow. Her ladyship thought you would want to rest before dinner. Ash will show you to your room.”

Eliza was surprised but pleased she did not have to face her aunt until later. She muttered a weary word of thanks, but her smile was genuine, and the butler so far forgot himself as to give her a reassuring smile back.

The footman led her upstairs to a suite of rooms overlooking the gardens at the rear of the house. She lay down on the bed, not expecting to sleep, but the weariness of a day spent in a closed carriage was too much for her, and within a few minutes, she dozed off.

She awoke feeling refreshed and hungry. Fortunately, it was almost the dinner hour. She washed her face and Sarah helped her into her evening dress—a new one she hoped Beau would like. Her maid re-pinned her hair and then Eliza picked up the matching reticule and, taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

To her surprise, Ash was hovering outside. Had he been waiting there the whole time she’d been resting?

A footman hardly seemed necessary. Did her aunt suppose she would get lost? She had stayed overnight before, when attending balls at the Winchester Assembly Rooms, the year she turned sixteen. Unlike her sister Georgiana, who had no sense of direction at all, she could have navigated her way around the house with no difficulty whatsoever.

Ash led her to the drawing room where Eliza supposed she would find her elusive aunt and cousin, and maybe Beau as well. The door opened and the first person she saw was not Lady Harting or Frances, but the abominable Harriet Whitlow.

Her aunt greeted her with an effusive show of affection, which Eliza found most disconcerting.

“My poor child, you look worn out from your journey. What a mercy it is that the gentlemen are not dining with us tonight, so there is no need to concern yourself that you are not looking your best.”

Eliza’s heart sank. No gentlemen. That meant no Beau. Just Lady Harting and Frances and Horrible Harriet.

Her aunt pinched her cheek in what should have been an affectionate gesture, but Eliza had to steel herself not to pull away. Sarah had tweaked her cheeks with tenderness. Lady Harting’s pinch seemed to confirm she was lacking in some way. She wondered whether her aunt revelled in making her feel about two inches tall.

The dinner was as painful as she had foreseen. Four ladies eating in state was rather overwhelming. Never at her best under Lady Harting’s watchful gaze, she found it hard to contribute anything to the conversation. The strange thing was, the less she spoke, the happier she thought her ladyship looked, and the self-satisfied smile on her aunt’s face deepened as the meal progressed.

After dinner, they moved into the drawing room, and Lady Harting requested some music.