“Aye.” He nodded, his eyes solemn.
“And what of your father?” I asked, knowing Lord Ashbury did not support the Patriots’ cause.
Henry did not respond immediately. I could see the war waging in his heart by the look in his eyes. “I will soon have no choice but to take sides, Libby. I do not believe that God will allow me to stay neutral, nor do I wish to. We are coming to a crossroads, and I will have to choose which way to go.” He spoke as if he was trying to convince himself.
I put my hand on his forearm, wishing I could tell him how things would play out. “And what will you choose?” I whispered in the shadowed corridor of Williamsburg’s capitol.
“I will have to choose freedom.” His voice was heavy with the implications.
“And your father?”
He looked away, and I could imagine he was envisioning his family’s country home, Edgewater Hall, and the property that was as much a part of him as the color of his eyes.
“I will try to spare him,” he said, “but I must follow my own convictions. I long to please my father, but at what cost to my own beliefs?”
Henry had spent his entire life trying to please his father—which was one reason I was no longer invited to visit his home on the Palace Green. His family owned a beautiful house not far from the Governor’s Palace. They stayed there whenever they were in Williamsburg on business, which wasn’t often enough.
Our mothers had once been friends, and when Mama went to visit, I went along. But when Henry had turned seventeen and our childhood friendship had begun to change into something more, the invitations stopped. When I questioned Henry, he had told me his father felt it best if we didn’t see each other again.
That had been six years ago.
I longed to ask him about Lady Catherine, Governor Dunmore’s daughter. Would he try to please his father where she was concerned?
But it was none of my business to ask him such things.
I removed my hand from his forearm. “I’m sure you are needed in the assembly room. I will not keep you any longer. I will not tell anyone what you’ve told me.”
Henry grinned, his earlier troubles vanishing from his gaze. He motioned toward the room behind him. “If any of them knew I was sharing secrets with the newspaper editor, I’d be tarred and feathered.”
“Then it will be our secret.”
Something sweet and gentle passed between us as we conspired together. As I watched Henry walk back into the assembly room, I wondered what secrets we would share, and my heart picked up that strange beat that echoed only for him.
4
LONDON, ENGLAND
MAY 23, 1914
London’s ballrooms had become almost indistinguishable. Loud orchestras, elaborate gowns, fake laughter, and endless dancing greeted me at every turn. Mother Wells had displayed me from one ball to the next, single-minded in her quest for me to make a suitable match. Lady Paget had been true to her word and had secured some of the best invitations, but within the first week, I started to receive them of my own accord.
Tonight, three weeks after we had first met Lady Paget, I entered the ballroom at the Crewe House on Curzon Street, the first with any true distinction. The magnificent home was owned by the recently titled Marquess of Crewe and his wife, the marchioness. It was much larger than the other ballrooms we’d visited, and it dripped with gilded furnishings, ornate decorations, and, by Lady Paget’s word, some of the most eligible bachelors in London.
“Tonight is the night,” Mother said, moments after we wereformally announced to the assemblage. “I have heard this ball is one of the most significant of the Season. Every person of importance will be here. The Marquess of Crewe is not only the secretary of state for India, he is the Lord Privy Seal and the leader of the House of Lords. He’s connected to the most powerful people in England—and you shall meet all of them. You must be on your very best behavior, Elizabeth. If there was ever a night for you to shine, it’s this one.”
I had done my best to thwart Mother’s plans, though I refused to be rude or embarrassing. It was much easier to remain aloof and detached, not encouraging any particular attention. I detested spoiled, simpering debutantes and would not be one of them. Even here, so far removed from Williamsburg and Mama, I could not disconnect from the lessons of kindness and gentility she had taught me. Perhaps it was my only saving grace from the things I’d witnessed and learned at Mother Wells’s knee.
“Ah, there is Lady Paget now.” Mother led the way through the crush of people. A massive orchestra played on a stage at the far end of the room, and many people were already dancing. Perfume mingled with the smell of alcohol while tiaras, necklaces, and earrings glittered in the light of the chandeliers.
I recognized several people I had met at preceding balls and social events. Winston Churchill, whose mother was an American heiress, stood near the Marquess of Crewe. Lloyd George, chancellor of the exchequer, spoke to the prime minister, Herbert Henry Asquith. And Consuelo Vanderbilt Spencer-Churchill, the Duchess of Marlborough, was currently speaking to the Marchioness of Crewe. There were many others, people I recognized from the local newspapers, which I read every day. They fascinated me, these people in power, as they directed the fate of this nation. Despite my resolve to remain aloof, I couldn’t hide my curiosity.
“Mrs. Wells,” Lady Paget said as she lowered her fan and let it dangle from her wrist. Large, gaudy jewelry dripped from her earlobes, around her neck, and on her fingers. She turned away from the woman she was addressing to speak to Mother, clinking as she moved. “I’m so pleased you could attend tonight.”
“It is our pleasure.”
“And Libby.” Lady Paget air-kissed each of my cheeks in greeting. “You look stunning this evening. The color of your gown makes your eyes simply shine.”
I couldn’t deny her compliment. The gown Mother had selected was the most beautiful thing I owned. Made of yards and yards of emerald-green silk with a high waist, a hobble skirt, and a black lace overskirt that flowed to a train behind me. It had a low décolletage and barely skimmed the tops of my black heeled shoes in the front. She had paired it with a black beaded headband and a pair of long emerald earrings.
