Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
‘Nothing,’ I say.
‘Nothing,’ Frank adds.
‘Then leave me in peace,’ Papa grumbles. ‘Florence, will you please contain our children whilst I deal with business?’ He points a look at Mother, and her nostrils flare dangerously.
‘Only if you contain that monster in your study.’
Father recoils, as does Frank, Clara, and I. ‘Florence?’
‘I am done with this madness,’ Mama hisses. ‘Done, I tell you, Burt!’ She gathers us up in her wide embrace, as though we were small children again, and ushers us to the drawing room, leaving Father standing somewhat struck dumb in the doorway to his study.
‘Mama?’ I say quietly when she’s plonked herself in the chair in the window, her head going into her hands. ‘Are you all right?’
Dalton appears with a glass of wine and sets it on the table beside her chair, and Emma takes it and places it in Mother’s hand. ‘Thank you,’ she says, before taking a very long sip. ‘I am not.’ She looks to the ceiling, as if looking to God for forgiveness for confessing it. ‘My beautiful, bright, wonderful children.’
I look to Frank and Clara, who each look to me, too, all of us bemused.
‘I want only the best for you all,’ she says, taking another sip. ‘I hope you can forgive me.’
‘For what?’ I ask, stepping forward. ‘What must we forgive you for?’
‘I fear my own desires to be accepted by the ton has played a part in this mess.’
I go to Mama and kneel before her, taking her hand, positively hating her forlorn expression, and Frank circles the back of her chair, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She smiles up at him and down on me as Clara perches on the arm of the chair. ‘You always told us everything can be fixed,’ Clara says.
‘It can.’ She nods. ‘I must believe it can, or I might lose you all forever.’
‘What are you talking about?’ I ask.
‘It seems your father and I have got ourselves in a bit of a sticky situation and we know not how to get ourselves out of it.’
I don’t like the sound of that.
Mother looks at me and smiles, though it is strained. ‘You must talk to Frederick, my darling.’
‘Why?’
‘Ask him about Colleen.’
I inhale and stand. ‘Colleen?’
‘Who the hell is Colleen?’ Clara asks.
‘Will you please watch your mouth, young lady?’ Frank barks, making Clara roll her eyes.
‘Where will I find Frederick?’
‘I not long saw him in the gardens looking quite the beaten man.’
I leave the house with haste, with no chaperone or voicing a request for one, hurrying to the gardens and weaving the path to the bench in the middle. I find Frederick with his head low. Mama is right. He looks quite the beaten man. ‘May I join you?’ I ask tentatively, prompting him to lift his head with some effort.
As predicted, he scans the vicinity for who might be escorting me, but I ignore his silent question, and obvious worry, and join him. ‘That was all very unfortunate, wasn’t it? How is your head?’
‘Sore.’
I nod, thinking he might have a headache for some time. The bump is huge. ‘Can you remember what happened?’
He frowns, shaking his head, and I believe him. ‘One minute I was enjoying a lemonade, the next my head was pounding.’ He reaches up and feels at his impressive lump, wincing.
‘Who is Colleen, Frederick?’
He darts a surprised look my way, and I smile. ‘You said her name numerous times when you were coming round.’
He sighs, looking so very flattened. ‘She is the love of my life, Eliza. I am sorry. I feel as though I have tricked you.’
God bless him. I take his hand and squeeze, and today he does not freak out or try to stop me touching him. In fact, he squeezes it back. ‘You have not tricked me, Frederick. Your father forced this upon you?’
He shifts, uncomfortable, and removes his hand from mine. ‘I have already said too much.’
Good God, he is afraid. It pains me, because Frederick is not the only one who is afraid of Lymington. ‘I understand,’ I say, standing. He has not really said much, but enough. ‘I’m sorry we are both in this ghastly situation. You’re quite a catch, Frederick. For the right woman.’
He laughs, and it’s the kind of laugh on Frederick that he should always laugh because it changes his vacant face to one of fulfilment. ‘And you. For the right man.’ He shakes his head and sighs heavily. ‘Eliza, I must tell you, if I do not marry you, my father will destroy Colleen’s family. They’re merely farmers. They hardly survive as it is.’ He looks at me, pleading in his eyes. ‘Please, Eliza, you must marry me, or she will be left destitute. I could never live with myself.’
My God, what a mean man his father truly is. Frederick and I have more in common than we would both like. ‘You need not worry, Frederick,’ I assure him quietly, offering a small smile before walking quickly back to the house.