They arrivedat Trent House in the wee morning hours and were escorted to their rooms.Her room was on the second floor, the nursery on the third.
After sleeping late, Elizabeth went upstairs to make certain Dawson was settled in before she visited the marquess.She smiled as she walked past the paintings of her and Adam at various ages.She remembered how they’d hated sitting still for so long.No wonder they were not smiling in any of the portraits.
Peeking in the door, she saw Mary reading to Dawson as they rocked back and forth.Elizabeth decided not to interrupt, because Dawson would only cry when she started to leave.At least she knew they were fine.
Returning to her room, Elizabeth found that Miss Greenow, Adam’s resident housekeeper, had laid out her clothes.She had chosen a gown of chartreusefaille franfcaisethat was plush to the touch.The skirt had vertical pleats caught up on one side with the other side falling straight.The front of the dress was similar to a man’s cravat of white crepe.It was a lovely dress, Elizabeth thought—plain yet elegant.She pinned on a dark green hat and started on her mission.
“I’ll be back shortly,” Elizabeth told Miss Greenow, who, more or less, ran Adam’s house.They only employed a small staff since they didn’t come to the city often.“Mary will take care of Dawson, but if I’m needed I’ll be visiting the Marquess of Middlesex.”
“Yes, mum.”Mrs.Greenow bobbed.“They have said he’s right poorly,” she commented as she followed Elizabeth downstairs.
“I’ve heard the same thing.”
She couldn’t picture Lord Middlesex in a feeble condition.He’d been married at least four times and had survived all four ladies.He was feisty, to put it mildly, and spoke his mind at the drop of a hat.
Elizabeth didn’t have to take a carriage, since Jonathan’s father lived directly across the street.She made her way over to the gray-colored town house and rapped on the front door.
Jeffrey, the butler, answered.He was an elderly gentleman who’d been with the Marquess of Middlesex since his early teens.Jeffrey’s hair was snow white, his eyes a faded blue.
“May I help you?”Jeffrey said in his haughty tone.
“Where is your monocle, Jeffrey?”Elizabeth asked with a smile.She knew he didn’t see well, but he was very stubborn about wearing his eyepiece.
He drew himself up straight.“I don’t need a monocle.Now state your business, young woman, or be off with you.”He waved his hand as if he was shooing away a pesky fly.
“Please inform the Marquess that Lady Elizabeth is here to see him,” she said.
“I-I don’t believe you.L-Lady Elizabeth is on the continent,” Jeffrey stuttered and fumbled in his pocket until he found his monocle.After placing it in his right eye, he peered at Elizabeth.“It is you,” he said.A slow smile formed, and he reached out and tugged on her arm.“Come.Come in,” he dithered as he ushered her through the door.“When did you grow up?”
“I’m not sure.”Elizabeth laughed.“Time goes by so quickly.”
“Yes, mum.”Jeffrey nodded slowly.“That is the only thing that is moving quickly these days.”He chuckled, then started for the stairs.“Follow me.The marquess will be glad to see you.We’ve not had much company.”
Elizabeth followed the butler and helped him when he stumbled on one of the steps.“You should get one of the younger men to go up and down these stairs.”
“Rubbish!My knees just give way once in a while.”
He opened the door and stepped quietly inside, leaving Elizabeth in the doorway while she was announced.“I have a visitor for you, sir.”
Elizabeth peered inside while she waited.The room was much too dark, she thought, and very depressing with its mahogany furniture and dark rosewood panels.Thick, dark-green carpet stretched across the room.There were two floor-length windows on each side of the bed, but the drapes were drawn.A single candle by the bedside provided the only light.
From a large bed in the middle of the room, an older gentleman with white hair leaned up on his elbows.“Who the bloody hell is it, Jeffrey?Can’t they let an old man die in peace?”
“If this isn’t a good time, Lord Middlesex, I can return on a later day,” Elizabeth said from the doorway.
He collapsed back upon his pillow.“I might be dead at a later time,” he snapped.“Come closer, so I can see who this voice belongs to.”
Instead of going to him as the marquess had directed, Elizabeth went to the windows and drew open the heavy, green-and-gold curtains.She tied them back with the matching cords and tassels so the sunlight could shine brightly into the room.
Then she stepped beside the bed and took the marquess’s hand.“Don’t tell me you have forgotten who I am?”
He stared at her a long time, but the gold in his eyes flickered with recognition.“How could I forget our lovely Elizabeth?”he murmured, his voice choked.“Child, you have grown even lovelier, if that is possible.”
“Thank you, sir.”Elizabeth hesitated.She’d never seen Lord Middlesex looking so ill.His skin had the wrinkled appearance of parchment paper, and his blue eyes had lost the sparkle she remembered so well.He’d always been so full of life, and now he seemed a withered shell.“How are you feeling?”
“Not worth a damn.”His lips thinned with irritation.“That old sawbones said I’d be gone before the end of the month,” Lord Middlesex said, and then smiled.“But that was two months ago.I do believe I showed him.”
“Indeed, you did,” Elizabeth agreed.“I don’t think anyone except the Lord can predict when we die.”
