Page 95 of A Single Obsession

Would she still refuse to believe him when he told her he loved her?

The miles flew by, and before Eliza had in any way recovered from the shock of being recognised by Beau, the carriage pulled up in front of Lord Castleford’s townhouse. She was fortunate to find Georgiana at home and alone.

“How lovely to see you,” her sister said, enfolding her in a warm embrace. “I thought you were going to Epsom.”

Eliza didn’t reply. She feared if she opened her mouth to speak, she would burst into tears, and she had no wish to disgrace herself in front of the servants. She shot her sister a pained look, and Georgie responded as she knew she would.

After ordering tea to be brought up to the drawing room, she put her arm around Eliza’s shoulders and ushered her upstairs.

“I had no notion you planned to return today, but no matter. Your bedchamber is waiting for you. The journey must have been quite pleasant—not as warm as it has been—with a delightful breeze, though it is in danger of wrecking my hair every time I go out for a walk.”

Georgiana chattered away comfortably, requiring no response from her until the door shut behind the maid who had brought in the tea.

After sitting down beside her on the sofa, her sister took both her hands and looked into her face. “What on earth has happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Two weeks ago, you wrote to tell me how happy you were because Beau had asked you to marry him. Two days ago, I get a scribbled note informing me you are going to Epsom and your return would be delayed. Today, you turn up, without your betrothed, looking like death. Don’t you dare try to pretend nothing has happened.”

Eliza knew Georgiana would not let her leave until she had an answer. She sat in stony silence, sipping her tea, seeking the courage to begin.

“I have made the worst mistake of my life.”

“Have you broken off your betrothal?” her sister whispered, her face now as pale as her own.

“No, but I must.”

“Why? Please don’t tell me there is another woman. I warned you—”

Eliza scowled, rushing to Beau’s defence on instinct. “He’s not like that. He wouldn’t dangle after anyone else while he was engaged to me.”

“Then you’re not breaking off your engagement because you’re jealous?”

“No.”

Eliza leapt to her feet and paced up and down the room before falling on her knees in front of her sister. “I’ve acted so foolishly. I must end our betrothal and release him from his promise.”

She grasped Georgie’s hands and gazed up into her face with pleading eyes. “You’ll be so cross with me when you hear what I’ve done.”

“I’m listening.”

Little by little, the story came out.

“When I discovered Romeo, I became obsessed with the notion that I could win his bet for him, so he didn’t have to marry me.”

Georgiana raised her eyebrows. “What kind of warped logic was that? I thought you wanted to marry him.”

“I do, but I wished to rescue him from being reliant on his mother, and believed if he was free, he would not wed anyone just yet. In a few years, when he was ready, I hoped he would choose me of his own volition.”

“That sounds rather far-fetched, but I assume once you had the idea in your head, there was no stopping you. But how did you intend to win his bet for him? Didn’t you say his jockey was injured when Romeo was stolen?”

Eliza said nothing, but fixed her eyes on the floor, waiting for Georgiana to put two and two together and realise what she’d done.

It did not take long. Her sister’s mouth gaped open in a most unladylike way. “Never tell me you raced him at Epsom?”

She gave the tiniest of nods in reply.

“Oh, Eliza. How could you?” Georgie shook her head from side to side, a resigned smile on her lips. “Do you care so little about your safety and your reputation? Whatever would Father say?”