“I’m so happy you’ve come.” Though Lady Kerr’s words extended to everyone, her smile lingered on Eli as she added, “A number of my guests have been asking about you. I daresay you’ll have a king’s welcome wherever you go.”
“Everyone has been very kind.”
They were drowning in calling cards at his aunt’s town house, overrun with visitors he’d never met in his life. It was that blasted story in the papers. Everyone wanted to say they knew the man who’d come back from the dead. Never mind that he had no interest in being their latest bit of gossip.
People were going to start asking questions he didn’t care to answer.
“We have you to thank for his introduction back into society,” Eli’s mother said. “Thank you so much for inviting us to your rout last night. It was delightful.”
Eli took in the house as they spoke. The decor, much like yesterday’s fête, spoke of extravagance. Her husband must have money, for though Lady Kerr’s dowry had been of healthy proportions, it couldn’t have paid for this.
We should have made each other very miserable if we’d married.
If he’d known it then, there could be no doubt now. A lieutenant’s income wouldn’t have allowed her to play the society hostess as she dreamed, and she was clearly suited to the role. Sir Thomas seemed affable enough. They even had a son. It seemed she’d gotten all she wanted.
Eli hadn’t realized he’d been carrying a weight until the moment it lifted. He’d always suffered an acute sense of responsibility toward others—perhaps it came from being the firstborn. If he’d returned to London to find her new husband was a profligate gambler or a drunk who’d trapped her in a poor match while she was still reeling from news of Eli’s supposed death, he would have blamed himself. A sense of obligation would always have linked them. Now, he could rest easy in the knowledge that their entanglement hadn’t had any consequences.
At least, not for her.
His attention strayed back to Jane, so near him it was hard to look away. What did she want? Nothing that he could give, certainly. She wanted nothing to do with him. But if he was to return to the navy and have no news of her again for years, he would like to know that she was well before he left. Perhaps there was some service he could do for her.
It was the closest he could come to putting things right.
“Have you selected your gowns for Ladies’ Day yet?” asked Lady Kerr. “I cannot decide if I should wear sleevesen gigot, or if the style is on its way out.” The question must have been aimed at all the women in the room, but it was her own father who answered.
“Jane hasnot, and I am growing concerned that the dressmaker won’t have enough time to fit her for something new.”
“If there isn’t time, I shall wear something I already own.”
Lady Kerr clucked her tongue. “I know it’s your fourth season, Jane, but you mustn’t stop making an effort. Poor Papa puts so much time into finding you a match. We really can’t let him downagain.”
Jane, who hadn’t been blessed with a card face, looked as though she might strangle her cousin. She dropped her gaze pointedly to her lap, her cheeks pink.
I shouldn’t have come. He didn’t want to listen to a discussion of whom Jane should marry.
There had been a gentleman at the door when he left her uncle’s town house this morning. Was he a suitor? Were there others? A trace of resentment burned in Eli’s chest, entirely inappropriate for his position.
He was no one to her. If he’d once hoped she would look at him with affection, it was impossible now.
Lady Kerr turned to him so sharply that for a moment he feared his dismay had shown on his face. But she only asked, “Youarecoming to Ascot, I trust?”
“To be honest, we haven’t had time to discuss it,” Eli replied.
“We weren’t planning on attending the season this year,” his mother added. “But when Eli came back to us, he was eager to see his friends in town while he had the chance.”
The glimmer in her eye caused Eli a pang of guilt. He didn’t like to think of what she must have suffered, believing him dead for so long. It sometimes felt as though he’d summoned the wave that had dashed the ship against the rocks and led him to captivity. Hadn’t he been desperate to avoid his vows? Though he knew it was utter nonsense, it felt like the sea had answered him.
“Youmustcome with us,” Lady Kerr said. “We’re planning apicnic luncheon on the journey there. And they’ve just built a new grandstand on the heath. Have you heard?” When Eli shook his head, she continued. “This is the first year it’s open to the public. They say it will hold three thousand.”
It was the last thing he needed, to be thrust into a crowd with Lady Kerr drawing attention to him, just as she had last night. It seemed every time he told his story to someone, a dozen more listeners popped up like fairy rings from the earth. They weren’t content with the part of the tale he had no qualms about sharing—that he’d been shipwrecked, held captive, and eventually made his escape (all quite true). Everyone wanteddetails.
Details were where mistakes could arise. All it took was one careless word, one accidental reference to the ship that had brought him safely to France, the exact timing of his escape, or the fact that he hadn’t been traveling alone, and his world would come crashing down. No one would care about his reasons. They would see a small stretch of unmarked time and brand him a deserter.
Worse than that, he might put Geórgios in danger. Eli owed him his life; he couldn’t risk exposing him.
“Thank you so much for the invitation,” he began, “but I’m afraid we haven’t lodgings at Ascot, and it’s too late to find something suitable.”
Less than two weeks out from the event, every accommodation would be full up.
