For Elise (18 page)

“Mr. Haddington, Mrs. Haddington, and
Miss Haddington have come to call, m’ lord,” a footman said, treating Miles with the utmost deference. Elise still found the idea of her partner in mischief all those years ago now bearing a title of such prestige rather odd. “Mrs. Langley has requested that you and Mrs. Jones join them in the sitting room.”

“Thank you. We will be there momentarily.”

The footman made short work of returning to the house.

“Does it feel terribly odd to you, Miles, that everyone scrapes and bows to you?” She shook her head in amused disbelief. “Every time they ‘my lord’ you, I can’t help remembering the day your father unceremoniously tossed you into the pond at Epsworth and you emerged looking like a drowned rat. Hardly what one expects of a future marquess.”

He chuckled. Anne, who couldn’t possibly have followed their conversation, laughed right along with them, her gaze firmly on Miles, a look of hero worship in her eyes.

“I can’t imagine there was ever a marquess whose childhood exploits would have stood up to examination,” Miles said. “Could you imagine if our first address in Lords was required to be a confession of all our youthful misadventures?”

“The entire kingdom would turn out for that.” She could easily picture dukes and earls quite solemnly reading off a list of stolen pastries, incomplete assignments from their tutors, and Latin lessons they’d spent staring out the windows.

“We’d best make our way to the sitting room like the civilized members of Society we are supposed to be,” Miles said.

“Do we have to?” She didn’t care to face “civilized members of Society” knowing she’d sunk so far below them. “I’d much rather stay out here with you and Anne. We were having such a lovely time.”

“Yes, we were.” He took her hand. “But then, we always did know how to have fun together.”

She set both her hands around his. Even with the new flutterings in her heart, the familiarity of his touch was welcome and soothing.

“But, yes, Elise, we do have to go greet our visitors.” He didn’t seem much more excited at the prospect than she was.

“Perhaps they’ll keep their visit short,” she said.

“Would you mind if Anne came with us to the sitting room? Only for a moment, of course.” He kept his hand in hers, his other hand gently wrapping around Anne’s. “She is such a sweet girl, so adorable. I want the Haddingtons to meet her so they can see just how lovely she is.”

Elise could have cried. All anyone in Stanton had ever seen in Anne was a poor, overly quiet girl hardly worth noticing. “She is easily overset by people she doesn’t know,” Elise warned.

“She’ll have the two of us.” Miles looked down at Anne with absolute adoration. “But I have no doubt she will charm them as effortlessly as she did me.”

Bless him, he cared for Anne so much he’d entirely forgotten there’d been nothing “effortless” about his earliest acquaintance with her.

She’ll have the two of us.
Elise had seen Anne through many of life’s difficulties. With Miles on her side as well, Anne could certainly face a room of strangers.

“I suppose a quick courtesy would be fine,” Elise said. “I only hope they’ll be patient with her. She doesn’t really speak, after all. Not in the way most people are accustomed to.”

“Miss Haddington will be gracious, I’m certain of that. As for her parents, I will not allow them to be unkind.”

Elise smiled at the fierceness of his tone. She slipped her arm through his and pulled up close to his side. “You are nearly as frightening as Beth when you make a decree.”

“There is no one as frightening as Beth.”

Elise knelt in front of Anne and offered a quick explanation of where they were going and whom they were likely to see. Anne didn’t appear to comprehend it all, and confusion tugged at her features, but Elise squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I’ll be with you, dear,” she promised.

Anne glanced up at Miles, a question so clear in her eyes that anyone seeing it would understand on an instant.

Miles took Anne’s other hand. “I’ll be with you also, sweetie.”

As easy as that, Anne nodded her agreement.

The three of them walked together toward the house as naturally as anything. She could almost imagine herself at Epsworth or Furlong House, as if nothing had changed. Though the ball had been something of a disaster for her, she didn’t feel as intimidated as she had expected when she approached the sitting room. For perhaps the first time since arriving at Tafford, it felt almost like home. Almost.

Mr. Langley and Mr. Haddington rose as Miles, Elise, and Anne entered the sitting room. Would that ever stop feeling strange? Gentlemen didn’t rise for an impoverished woman of the lower classes. Her station didn’t warrant the social nicety, but in treating her as an equal, Miles had set the example his neighbors followed. He’d managed to bend that rule for her and grant her badly beaten pride at least a temporary reprieve.

Her gaze lingered on him as the realization sank in more fully. He didn’t have to treat her as kindly as he did, and he certainly didn’t owe her the efforts he made on her behalf. But how grateful she was to him for his kindness.

“Good afternoon,” Miles greeted them all. “I am pleased that you chose to visit.”

Mrs. Haddington beamed. “We hadn’t come by since the ball and were longing for the company of our nearest neighbors.”

Miles released Elise’s hand. With both of his hands laid gently on Anne’s back, he nudged her slightly in front of him. “This lovely young lady is Miss Jones, our most distinguished house guest.”

Though Anne most certainly didn’t understand everything that was happening, all of the adults in the sitting room smiled at her adoringly. How odd that must have been for her. Until the last few weeks, Anne had lived her life entirely unnoticed. Miles hunched down next to Anne and pointed to each of the new arrivals in turn, telling her their names but not making a point of her deafness. For her part, Anne simply watched Miles, eyes wide with fascination and tenderness. How quickly he had woven the same spell around her daughter as he had around Elise as a girl.

He stood once more and turned to a maid just on the other side of the doorway. “Would you accompany Miss Jones to the nursery?”

She dipped a curtsy. “Yes, my lord.”

Anne looked up at Elise, a question in her eyes. Elise gave her a reassuring smile, then subtly made the sign they had developed to mean nursery. Anne nodded her understanding and allowed the nurse to take her hand and lead her away. How much Anne had changed these past weeks. She’d once been afraid of anyone other than Elise and Mama Jones. But in Miles’s home, she had found safety and refuge and a reason to trust. More surprising even than that, Elise had begun, in small ways, to feel the same.

“Come sit with us, Mrs. Jones,” Mrs. Haddington said, waving Elise over.

So much for safety and refuge. If not for Beth sitting with the other ladies and Miles’s nodding reassuringly, Elise would have formulated some excuse or other and followed Anne out of the room. Still, she was no coward.

Elise took a seat amongst the other ladies. Miles sat not far off with the gentlemen.

“Your daughter is so beautiful,” Miss Haddington said. “Her curly hair is absolutely adorable.”

For a moment, Elise wasn’t sure what to say. “Thank you,” she managed.

“Actually,” Beth said, “she is the very image of Mrs. Jones when she was a child. I confess I always envied her thick curls.”

“How old is she?” Mrs. Haddington asked.

“She is three years old.”

“Three?” Mrs. Haddington’s gaze turned pointedly ponderous. “How soon will she turn four?”

An odd question, admittedly. But Elise knew it would be rude not to answer. And she would rather not draw more attention to Anne. “Not for a few more months.”

“How many more months?” Mrs. Haddington pressed.

“Quite a few more.” And that was all Elise meant to say on that matter.

Thankfully, Miss Haddington seized control of the conversation once more and directed it away from her mother’s line of questioning. “Your daughter clearly has Lord Grenton wrapped around her finger.” There was nothing but friendliness in Miss Haddington’s tone, something Elise thoroughly appreciated.

“Yes. He has been very kind during our stay here.”

Beth took a small sip of tea. “My brother has always adored little children. He is more at ease with them than most nursemaids, I daresay.”

Mrs. Haddington nodded her approval. “That is a very fine quality for any gentleman to have. A rare one as well.” She gave her daughter a knowing look.

So many things became clear in that instant. Elise had seen for herself at the ball how many young ladies and their mothers were particularly interested in Miles. It seemed the Haddingtons had more than a passing curiosity. They were in full pursuit.

“We have so enjoyed getting to know you and your brother better,” Mrs. Haddington said to Beth. Her look of deeply forged friendship didn’t quite match the brevity of their acquaintance. Mrs. Haddington was firming her footing with the people she knew mattered to her end goal.

Elise watched Miss Haddington, wondering if her mind was as firmly fixed as her mother’s. She had certainly seemed quite at ease with Miles. The day of the picnic, they had chatted amicably, even made each other laugh. Miles had found Elise during the ball based on Miss Haddington’s instructions. He seemed on easy terms with both of Miss Haddington’s parents.

And Miss Haddington is an acceptable match for a marquess. She was not recently dredged up from the ditches.

Though Miss Haddington fit the mold of what Miles ought to have been looking for in a wife, and despite the fact that Elise really did like the lady, she found herself grimacing at the idea. Perhaps it was her own selfishness. Miles was her very best friend; he always had been. When he married, she would be relegated to the periphery of his life. Having only just been reunited with him, she wasn’t sure she was ready to lose him again.

She couldn’t allow herself to entirely trust him, yet she was already mourning the day when he was no longer part of her life. It was little wonder she was so confused.

“Beth, dear,” Mr. Langley spoke into the momentary lull in the ladies’ conversation. “Did you know that Mr. Haddington knew your father?”

“I didn’t.” Beth was clearly pleased.

“We belonged to the same club,” Mr. Haddington said. “And we shared a few interests. We often spent an evening debating the merits of a new invention or investment opportunity and whether or not it was likely to catch on or prove profitable. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but Mr. Linwood and Mr. Furlong and I always got on well. Fine gentlemen. Sharp.”

A prick of pain pierced Elise at the mention of her father. She’d never met Mr. Haddington until the ball, but he had been a somewhat close acquaintance of her father’s. It shouldn’t have surprised her to hear her father had a world outside of the one that had encompassed their home and her very narrow experience as a child, yet somehow it did.

“I was sad to hear of their passing,” Mr. Haddington continued. “Everyone was shocked. It was so unexpected and so very tragic. They were murdered, I understand.”

Elise kept her hands primly folded on her lap, trying to push the words from her mind. Miles had shielded her from these conversations during those first weeks after her father’s death. She’d not been forced to talk about or listen to discussions of the details of that night. Very few things about leaving her home had been a relief, but that part was. Away from Epsworth, she needed not say a word about that night she knew she would never forget.

“The word about the club was it was a robbery gone terribly wrong,” Mr. Haddington said. “No one was entirely certain of the exact details. The number of shots fired was a point of great debate for many weeks. Some believed it was a quickly accomplished thing, while others were just as certain the scene was gory in the extreme.”

Elise closed her mind to his ramblings. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would wish to know more about a person’s violent death. Was it not enough to realize that two murders meant the loss of a father, a friend, a neighbor? Could he not respect the fact that he was speaking of two very real, very good people who deserved some degree of dignity rather than a passage from a sordid novel or sensationalized stage play?

He had known Mr. Linwood and Father, after all. He even claimed to have liked and respected them. Was he not at all bothered by the thought of how violent an end they had met? From the sounds of it, speculation had been bandied about their club amongst the rest of their acquaintances.

She rose to her feet, trying to appear less shaky than she felt. “If you will excuse me,” she said. “I need to make certain Anne has gone down for her nap.”

She offered an abbreviated curtsy and moved swiftly from the room. Mr. Haddington would likely continue his rather callous discussion of death and suffering, but she wanted no part of it. She didn’t need to hear the details; she had lived them.