This was one area he couldn’t consult his uncle about. He had to manage Markus’s behavior on his own.
“If you can’t say something polite, don’t say anything at all.” Philip stood and tossed his napkin on his plate.
“My question is why you’re looking at Lady Eliza when you’re supposed to offer for one of the Graham sisters.”
Philip forced himself to relax, not wanting to reveal how much Markus’s comments were hitting their target. “Perhaps you should stay focused on your own life, cousin. I’d venture to say there are a few areas that could use improvement. Especially your finances.”
He quit the room but knew that wouldn’t be the end of it. Markus’s actions were becoming more and more reckless. Unfortunately, what to do about it remained unclear.
Eliza entered the Haverford Ball three days later, hoping to better control her emotions than she had at the last ball. No one could see the insecure little girl she’d been. It didn’t matter that her own mother hadn’t loved her. At least, it shouldn’t matter anymore.
Yet somehow it did, and she worried that if someone looked closely, they’d see exactly why she’d never been loved. Maybe they could explain it to her. As she had so many times over the years, Eliza wished she knew what was wrong with her so she could change.
She’d been nine years of age when she realized the depth of the problem with her family. A picture in a magazine of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert gathered around a Christmas tree with their children made it clear how broken her own family was.
She’d soon determined that she was the reason why.
Winston had shared a few memories of holidays with her. Good memories. Whereas she had none. Therefore, it was only logical that her arrival had changed their family. She’d done her best to fix her flaws and continued to do so but wasn’t certain her efforts were enough.
She shook off her dour thoughts, uncertain what it was about balls in particular that brought them forth. Perhaps because she felt as if she were on display. That everyone was staring at her and listing her faults. She knew she had many compared to the other ladies in attendance.
Not as pretty. Not as clever. Not as graceful. Not as thin. The list was long. She’d heard most of them many times during finishing school. Tiny barbs that had struck true, piercing her meager defenses.
Eliza straightened and reminded herself that she had several good qualities. After all, the ladies from the literary league seemed to like her. That counted significantly to her.
“Whatever is the matter with you?” Aunt Frieda asked with a frown. “You’ve issued so many sighs that I have to wonder if you’re ill.”
They waited in the reception line with numerous other guests. Eliza dearly hoped no one had heard her aunt.
“I do believe my corset is too tight,” she whispered.
“Nonsense. You need only draw shallower breaths.”
Eliza had told herself many times that it was good that Aunt Frieda wasn’t sympathetic to any complaint. Otherwise, Eliza would focus on the past rather than the future.
The future was where her hope was.
Which brought to mind Philip. The thought of him eased the tightness in her chest. They’d had not one but two kisses. If she were brave enough to share that with Lady Bolton, she was certain her new friend would agree that her progress was remarkable.
Perhaps Lady Bolton or one of the ladies from the league would be at the ball this evening. That was an encouraging thought as well and helped to steady her.
At last, they greeted their hosts and made their way into the ballroom.
“Oh my.” Eliza studied the décor, impressed by the effort Lady Haverford had gone to. Autumn touches were everywhere from the red, brown, and yellow strands of silk twisted around the columns and framing the windows along the far wall to the vases of flowers that scented the air.
“Impressive.” Aunt Frieda gave a rare nod of approval.
Eliza studied the room with care. After all, if her plan went well, she would host a ball each year. Perhaps even more often. The thought made her smile.
“There’s Lady Oxley and her daughters. Why don’t we greet them?” Aunt Frieda suggested.
The family had Eliza’s sympathy, but she didn’t want to speak with them. “It looks as if they’re already in conversation with others. Perhaps we should wait.”
“Oh, yes. I see that now.”
Eliza released a relieved breath. They continued forward, and she couldn’t help but look for Philip. Another dance with him would be wonderful.
Her aunt paused to speak with two other ladies, giving Eliza a better chance to look around. Lady Winifred Barnes and Miss Millicent Davies stood a short distance away. She hadn’t seen them since the last meeting and was eager to converse with them. “I’m going to speak with friends.” What a delight to be able to say that.
