“Thank you,” Benedict replied. “I’d sent her the invitation and a note this morning, but I have yet to see a reply.”
“It is probably there but you haven’t looked closely,” Edward replied humoredly. “Now, go study.”
When his brother left, his footsteps fading down the corridor, Edward rubbed his eyes and could not help but laugh. When his carefree brother was the voice of reason, he knew things had taken a severe turn.
Even though he felt as if he was inching his way through a field set with traps and he was treading on the edge of a cliff—he would dare not do what Benedict said he should do; rather, he should start with getting Rutledge to own up to his actions.
She did pay me with a kiss after all.
CHAPTER 10
“Yes, he was handsome, but he was aBaronand a merchandiser with a small fleet,” Eliza sniffed scornfully over her tea. “As admirable as that is, I had hoped for the company of another marquess last night. Alice, could you be a dear and please tell your suitor that someone of better rank would be more favorable to me.”
Appalled—and decisively sickened—Alice glared at her cousin. “Beg your pardon?”
“The friend Lord Brampton sent to be my partner last night,” Eliza wrinkled her nose, oblivious to the state Alice was in. “He is a decent fellow, do not misunderstand me, but he is not the sort of lord I imagine to marry me. Surely someone as I am, so extraordinarily accomplished in the realms of art, music, and languages, would find a better suitor.”
Penelope’s derisive snort was covered with a timely cough, “You can barely remember a French phrase, rather, any French at all, and you have a very tenuous grasp on Spanish.”
“Matters not,” Eliza waved her hand. “I deserve better than a Baron.”
Staring at her plate, Penelope said, “I would have liked to have someone glance at me last night the way he did for you. You danced the night away, Elizabeth, with a man who looked at you as if you hung the moon. Why can’t you accept that? I had no one.”
The broken tone her sister spoke in had Alice’s heart twisting with sympathy and compassion, but such a nuance flew right over Eliza’s head. “You might do well with a Baron, I suppose. He is just not the right fit for me.”
Alice had enough, “Oh, for God’s sake, how selfish and entitled can you be? Lord Brampton went through all the trouble of securing you a possible suitor and you throw his efforts back in his face with nary a thank you,” she snapped. “How can you not see outside of yourself for one minute?”
Eliza looked as if she’d been slapped. “Why are you angry at me?”
“Because you are blind to the fortune in front of you.”
“What fortune? Can you be specific?”
Alice pinned her cousin with a blunt cool gaze. “How many suitors have you had in the past three or four years, and you haveturned them down simply because they were not a rich, titled lord who could give you all the material possessions you require?
“Some of them were even willing to turn a blind eye to how nauseatingly spoiled you are in hopes you would look at them with an ounce of care or an emotion that surpasses greed or vanity.” The words Alice had penned behind her heart suddenly came streaming out.
“You’ve been blessed to have both your parents with you, you have never found yourself without a roof over your head, or without a shilling to your name. Not like us, not like Penelope and me, so for god's sake, stop yourwhining.”
Eliza looked struck through with a thunderbolt, her eyes wide and trembling, her face white with shock. Soon enough, her eyes narrowed. “Is thatitthen? You have found yourself a marquess and you want to keep him toyourself.”
“…Is thatallyou took from it?” Alice asked, stumped by her cousin’s self-absorbed delusion. When had she mentioned Benedict? “Nothingelse?”
“I see how it is,” Eliza fixed her bonnet. She sniffed. “You feel you are better than me.”
As Alice made to answer, Penelope lurched from her seat and rushed away, forcing Alice to run after her. She found her sister in the commode, hurling the contents of her stomach into a chamber pot. Worried, she held her sister’s hair up and rubbed her back while whispering soothing words in her ear.
“What happened?” Alice whispered.
“I—” she paused to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand while perspiration breaded on her brow. “I don’t know. My stomach has not been feeling well lately.”
“Howfarwould you describe as lately?” Alice’s worry began to ramp up. “Days… weeks perhaps?”
“Six days now,” Penelope replied.
The incident with Rutledge is thirty-one days now.
Heart clenching, she whispered, “When was the last time you had your courses?”
