“Oh, my darling.” Her mother caught her hand, squeezing it. “Everyone knows Wayland’s. Everyone.”
“What reason could he have to lie?”
“I do not know.” Mama was lying. Eliza wasn’t certain how she knew, but she did.
“Tell me,” she demanded.
“Darling…”
“Say it.”
Her mother’s eyes slipped shut as she shook her head. When they opened again, there was nothing but pity in them.
“My fortune. A man could only want me for my fortune. That’s what you mean.” Eliza’s voice was hollow, tinny, as empty as her heart.
“Thatis not what I meant?—”
“The men who dance with Sophie— They’re not after her fortune? It’s only me.”
“Lizzie, no.” A devastated note filled her mother’s voice. “I?—”
“No, it makes perfect sense. Sophie is striking and lively. And I’m… me. The only thing I have to tempt a man is money.”
A tear slipped down her mother’s cheek. “It breaks my heart to hear you speak this way of yourself,” she said, cupping Eliza’s cheek. “Is this truly what you think? Becauseany man, even Lord Sinclair, would be lucky to earn your affections, darling.You’re witty and kind, so smart, and so, so beautiful. But there’s too much of me in you?—”
“I think I’d like to go to bed now,” Eliza said, breaking away from her mother.
“Please, Lizzie?—”
“Please, Mama?”
Her mother’s sigh was shaky, but she nodded, allowing Eliza to flee to the house.
Once inside her chamber, Eliza had May assist her in stripping the layers of skirts and petticoats before dismissing the maid, her throat tight all the while.
No sooner had she settled into bed, did the tears escaped the corners of her eyes, tracing silent paths down her temples and into her hair and pillow. She brushed them away in irritation.
How wretched it was to have her own mother confirm her every fear, her every inadequacy. It wasn’t her mother’s fault—she was merely stating the obvious. The only thing Eliza had to recommend herself was her fortune. And there was no possible way Lord Sinclair could want her for any other reason. It was foolish to let her hopes rise to such heights after only one dance.
Her door opened, and a dark form slipped inside.
“Slide over,” Sophie whispered as she approached the bed. Eliza shuffled to make room, then wiped her cheeks again.
Sophie snuggled down into the bedding before reaching a hand to find Eliza’s where it rested between them. “I’m sorry. I was being wretched,” she whispered to the ceiling.
“No, I ruined our night.”
“The food spoiled our evening with no assistance on your part. And besides, what did you do? Dance with a handsome gentleman who asked? I would have as well—but he only had eyes for you.”
“Mama thinks he was a fortune hunter. There is no other reason such a man would look at me twice. In fact?—”
“She did not say that!”
“Not in those exact words, but that is what she meant.” Eliza rolled to her side, letting her head rest on Sophie’s shoulder.
“Mama would never even think it. Besides, she’s warned me off a gentleman or two. I’m certain she was only worried because you’ve never shown an interest in any suitor. She did not wish for you to be hurt by the first one to catch your eye.”
Eliza wanted to point out that he was the only gentleman to have ever noticedher—beyond her connection to Sophie. But Eliza knew her sister would not understand. Instead, she merely shook her head against Sophie’s collarbone.
