Teaching the Earl (21 page)

"And to deliver the necklace and letter.
I needed an ally in the house, if I was to rescue you."

At least he had not been in her room.
"And where exactly were you, my brave rescuer?" she said sarcastically. "I never saw hide nor hair of you the whole time I was there."

His fists clenched, his face closed. "My father came after me. He dragged me back to London."

"Oh, exceedingly manly."

"He pays my allowance," he said, brow
s lowering resentfully in the face of her scorn. "Without it I have no way to support you."

"And I suppose he'd gladly continue paying it to support us both if I was such a fool as to flee with you?"

"He'd have to."

"Would he? I truly think you're a candidate for bedlam."

"If I'm crazy it is for love of you. Only tell me I may hope-"

"No! No you may not hope. Have you heard nothing I've said? I'd think you a scoundrel, if you had not fouled up this whole thing so thoroughly. Instead you're just a nuisance. When I get home I'll throw that necklace in the
cesspool."

"But it cost-Don't do that. If you don't want it, return it. As a-As a token of the affection we once had for each other."

She eyed him. He had once seemed an elegant stripling, on the verge of becoming a suave man about town. Now he was ridiculous; and apparently also stricken for funds.

"I will return it. But you are not to come to my house, and I will certainly not come to yours."

"The Holbrook Ball. We'll both be here. I am escorting Mama, and you're sure to be invited. Bring it with you, and simply pass it to me."

"I'll leave it on that table." She pointed with a stiff arm. "I've no wish to meet with you again, so don't imagine you may speak to me or have any contact."

"Elizabeth, don't be so harsh. My only crime is to love you-"

"No, your crime is to thrust yourself in where you're not wanted or welcome, and to try to destroy a marriage sanctified by God.
Crime enough!"

She flung herself out of the room without waiting to see if he had more to say, bubbling over with rage. How dare he encroach on her so, with no regard for her wishes?

She stayed for the rest of her visit with the Holbrooks, determined not to be chased away by his presence. She did not see him emerge from the library, but then she was not looking out for him. Colin and Julia examined her with some curiosity, but when she did not mention Michael, and instead asked determined questions about every arrangement she could think of for the ball, they too pretended the meeting with him had not happened.

She would get that necklace out of her house and be done with him. Let that be an end to it.

The butler offered him the mail on a silver salver. Chris took it and flicked swiftly through the pile.
Invitations, more invitations. Elizabeth could-Here was one from Devon, and the handwriting was unfamiliar. He set the other envelopes aside and opened this one with a flick of a thumbnail.

It took him only moments to master the contents, and he was on his feet and barking orders.

"
Ulrich, have Galloway pack basic clothing for two days and see a horse is saddled. I'm off to Hensleigh Park. Where is her Ladyship?"

"In her chamber, preparing for the Holbrook Ball.
I hope there's nothing amiss, my lord."

"An accident on the farm.
A man crushed nearly to death."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's his family that must be thought of now."

"Of course, my lord."

But Chris was already out of the door.

_____

"Good heavens, Kirkland. You've made it so tight. I can barely breathe. Please loosen it a little."

"Not if you wish the dress to fit," said her maid, looking up from tying the ribbons of her stays.

"It was not so tight a fortnight ago, I'm sure."

"No, my lady.
But things were different a fortnight ago, if you don't mind my saying."

"Were they? What do you mean?"

"Only that milady is more bountiful now."

"Do you think I've been overeating? There have been a great number of very good dinners lately. Perhaps I could reduce."

"I think it has more to do with missing your menses this month, my lady."

"I-Oh.
Oh that. I-Good heavens. Does that mean what I think it means?"

"One can't be certain, just yet. But chances are good. Another month and you can be sure."

"You're suggesting I'm carrying a child?"

"I believe so."

"Heavens," Elizabeth whispered, and sat abruptly, the strength going out of her knees. So very quickly. Exciting and terrifying at the same time. If it was true.

Should she tell Chris? Would it be better to wait until she was sure?

No, she could never keep such a thing secret for a day, let alone a month. She leapt up.

"Quick!
The dress. Put the dress on. Hurry!"

She helped ease the gauzy fabric into place, and waited in a fever of impatience as buttons were fastened.

"That will do. No, not the gloves or jewels yet. I'll return in a moment."

She swooped out of her chamber, and ran straight into Chris.

"Oof. Goodness."

"I'm sorry. I was coming to find you. There's news from
Hensleigh Park. The Reverend Swinton sends word James Thompson has been crushed by a collapsing wall, and is not expected to survive."

"Oh my."
She raised a hand to her mouth in shock. "That's terrible. Oh, I know him. He's the man with the gap in his teeth here, and the smile." She indicated a curved line that swept from ear to ear.

"Yes, that's him."

"His poor family. They must be beside themselves."

"I must go to them, and let them know they will be taken care of. Let him know it too, if I can get there in time."

"Oh." She tried not to let her face fall. It was dreadfully selfish, to wish he need not go, when the Thompson family were in such straits. Selfish to imagine someone else could pass on Lord Carhampton’s reassurances. She knew how he liked to put heart into his tenants. And this was a sore blow. Chris and Mr Thompson had worked together, labored side by side. Chris must feel the loss very keenly.

She could not tell him she might be pregnant. Now was not the time for such news.

"Don't look at me like that," he said. "I should have been back on the estate days ago. If the workers had been properly supervised, this might not have happened."

Was he saying it was her fault, for keeping him here? "You can't know that."

"I can't know otherwise, can I?"

Even the implied accusation hurt. But he did not mean to accuse, of course. He was only agitated.
Distracted.

She drew herself up.

"Certainly. Go, by all means. I'm not trying to keep you."

He frowned at her, and turned away without another word.

Yes, certainly distracted. Knowing him, he felt towering guilt. He did have such a habit of assuming responsibility for everything, as if he had the power to shift the earth in its course. She would not take it personally.

Though it would have meant a great deal if he had kissed her farewell, or said he hated to go, or would miss her.

She watched him hurry back down the stairs and disappear into the passage that led to the stables at the back of the house. He did not turn or come back. She waited another minute to be sure.

Finally she sighed and returned to her bedroom to finish dressing for the ball.

_____

The moon was high, and his bad-tempered horse was fresh and restless. He held her to a trot through the crowded streets, and even when traffic thinned he kept the moderate pace. They had far to go tonight, though he would change horses on the way.

Strangely enough, as he rode it was not James Thompson whose face lingered in his mind's eye, nor that of the man's wife or two children.

For all they had labored together, the man had been simply another body beside his, barely noticed. He should have known him better, should have taken the time to understand his character. He had been too wrapped up in his own grief, and numb to everything around him. Now he would never know James Thompson, for it was likely too late.

But even these depressing thoughts could not fix his mind on the man.

Instead he kept seeing Elizabeth's face, Elizabeth's still figure, with a deepening sense of unease.

She had not taken the news well.

Not only James Thompson's injury - which had left her brow furrowed, her mouth twisted - but even more, the news of his departure. When he said he was going, her face had sagged dramatically. It was almost as if-Without meaning to, he hauled back on the reins, and his horse halted, snorted then did a sideways jig and shook her head in impatience.

What had she been thinking, to make her expression change that way? What had she read into his words? He had spoken quickly, not weighing up what he said, or considering how she might interpret it.

Her response had been more than pained compassion for the Thompsons. It had been personal. He was almost sure of it.
What exactly had he said?

That he should have gone days ago. That was it. And of course the reason he had stayed was her bargain with him. Though it had become also
his own enjoyment, lately. Another reason to feel guilt: that he should play while others labored to bring him prosperity, and now died for him. The way of the world, of course, but nothing he had learned to feel comfortable about.

Did she think he regretted their bargain?

Did she imagine he rejected it? Rejected her?

There had been that moment when she stood tall, gave him a cool stare and told him to go, and that she did not keep him. He had not thought her words significant at the time. What if he was wrong? What if they were a challenge?

And then he had simply left her, without another word, or tender farewell, or any sign he thought all was well between them.

What had he done?

What if, even now, she thought he had severed their agreement and abandoned her? What if the disappointment on her face, the flash of dismay before she set her mouth and told him she would not keep him, had been because she thought it was over between them? Thought he returned to the estate, and left her to pursue her own life in London, as she had suggested she would.

He swore loudly, and his horse tossed her head as if in vigorous agreement.

He was wrong to go. The shock of the news, his own feeling of responsibility, had made him react without thinking it through. James Thompson did not need Lord Carhampton at his bedside. He needed a written, binding promise of support for his family - if that could reach him in time. If not, his family needed it.

He could send it to the Reverend Swinton. The man would go to Thompson's house to read it out to Thompson - if he was not there already, keeping vigil. Or read it to his family, if he had already succumbed to his injuries. Then they would be at peace about their financial future, free
to mourn their tragedy without fear of what was to come.

He would find an inn, and hope they had paper and ink to write a letter. He would hire a man to ride the distance, and pay him well. Then he could hurry back to Elizabeth and explain himself before she had time to act.

Pray that she did not act swiftly, out of pique or true hurt. She cared for him at least a little. Surely a few hours of feeling abandoned was not enough time to turn to another.

Surely not his Elizabeth.

Surely not.

_____

It was not at all the same without Chris. Elizabeth sat in a corner of the ballroom, and swung an idle foot. Mama would have been horrified to see her so casual. But Mama was not here, and neither was Chris, and she was in no mood to circulate and talk of polite nothings. Lydia was here. Elizabeth could go find her and no doubt be better amused. But even that prospect did not tempt her.

She should take the necklace to the library, and then if she wanted she could leave. A waste, when it was such a successful ball, and so pretty, but if one was not in the mood, it did not matter how pretty were one's surroundings.

She stood and moved swiftly through the crowd, determined now. An early night would probably be a restorative thing. Perhaps she was jaded from too many entertainments. No, that was wishful thinking. She wanted Chris. Nothing was as pleasant without him there to talk to about it. Was that pathetic?
Perhaps a little, but never mind that. She could be slightly pathetic in the deep, hidden recesses of her womanly heart.

The library door was closed, the noise of the ball a little muffled here. She opened the door. A single candlestick was lit on a small table in the
center of the room, the same table where she had said she would leave the necklace.

She padded across the carpet, her hand going to the hidden pocket that held the necklace.

Behind her a board creaked.

She whirled. "Who's
there!"

Michael appeared abruptly out of the shadows.

"Why are you lurking there? I thought I made myself perfectly clear. I don't want to see you."

"I know that's what you say. But I also know a passion like ours does not die so easily. You're afraid of him, aren't you? That's why you won't admit-"

"I've had enough of this nonsense." She strode for the door.

An arm wrapped around her midriff, hard enough to make breathing difficult, and lifted her off the floor.

"Put me down! What do you imagine-"

"No more. I'll decide what's best for us," he said.

She kicked and flailed, incredulous and aflame with rage, but though she connected to his shins hard enough to bruise, he still tramped to the window, opened it awkwardly and put one leg over the sill. She screamed. Would she be heard through thick walls and the noise of the merriment?

"Be quiet," he commanded, put his other leg out of the window, and jumped. As he did she thrashed and knocked him off balance.

When they hit the ground there was a sickening snap.

_____

"Good evening, Mrs Holbrook. I hope you'll pardon me for the awkwardness of never having been introduced to you. I had counted on Lady
Carhampton to do the honors, but she came on ahead of me, and now I'm marooned. Christopher Alexander, of Carhampton, at your service."

"Lord
Carhampton. By all means, let us dispense with formality. You wife and I are friends enough to forgive it, and I've been curious to meet the man who won such an open, tender heart as Elizabeth's."

"The greatest prize in my possession."

"I hope so, my lord." She inclined her head with a cordial smile. An interesting woman, small and delicately built with sharp features that were almost elfin, yet with a hint of steel behind that politely expressed wish.

He grinned at her. "You must be delighted with your event. It's obviously a great success."

"It's very well attended, to be sure."

"And everyone smiling and enjoying themselves."

"Yes. That's very satisfactory."

"Well done. And congratulations on your marriage, of course."

"Thank you."

"Those of
us who know of Mr Holbrook, know you've triumphed."

He had meant it as
humor, but it fell flat. Her figure went stiff, and she turned her head away. Evidently this was a tender area for her. He should have heeded Elizabeth's gentle words on the subject.