Elizabeth was sobbing into the coverlet. Ditcham sighed, and proceeded, by a mixture of bullying, soothing and sympathy, to get her mistress ready for bed.
The feigned headache was now real. Elizabeth’s cheeks stung from salt, her eyes were puffy and red, and sleep seemed an impossibility. There was a terrible emptiness within her. This man had won her trust, despite all her wiser instincts, won it so completely, and yet all the time was deceiving her, making her a mere puppet, whose strings he might cut upon whim. The heart he was breaking whimpered that, if he loved her, nothing else mattered, but the head, thumping as it was, asserted superiority. It had284been proved right yet again. Men could not be trusted. He might claim to love, but his actions showed his selfishness, his inability to treat her honestly. There could be no truck with such a man.
No truck, perhaps, but when tiredness overcame her, he was there, lurking in the edges of her dreams, a sombre figure with eyes that pleaded, then grew hard as granite, and no amount of tossing or turning would make him go away.
In blissful ignorance of what had taken place at Lady Sefton’s the previous evening, Sir Lucius presented his card in Mount Street the next morning and asked to see Lord Chalford. His lordship was a little surprised to receive this request, his wife’s comments upon Elizabeth’s budding romance having been heard but not listened to, over recent weeks. However, he instructed that Sir Lucius be provided with refreshment in the library, where he would join him shortly.
When he entered the room he thought his visitor looked a little ill at ease, for he was standing beside the library table, drumming his fingers upon the polished mahogany in some agitation.
‘Good morning, Sir Lucius. Er, I am sorry if I have kept you waiting. Have you another engagement that is pressing?’
‘No, no,’ Sir Lucius replied hurriedly, colouring. ‘I … It is … You see …’ He faltered, much to Lord Chalford’s amazement.
‘Do take a seat, and try to calm yourself. You seem agitated. In what way may I be of service to you?’
285‘Miss Ashling’ – Sir Lucius took a deep breath – ‘Miss Elizabeth Ashling, that is, your niece. I was … am … hoping that you will see your way to permitting me to pay my addresses to her.’
There, it was out. He took a gulp of air, and watched Lord Chalford’s face register astonishment.
‘Good Lord! Elizabeth? You want to marry my niece, Elizabeth?’
‘Yes, my lord, I do.’
‘Are you sure?’ Lady Chalford would have screamed in horror had she heard her lord giving a prospective suitor the opportunity to back down, but Chalford was more than a little stunned.
‘Yes, absolutely.’
‘Good Lord,’ repeated his lordship, blinking. There was a pause, a pause far too long for the state of Sir Lucius’s nerves, then Lord Chalford’s face broke into a smile and he extended a hand.
‘My dear fellow, by all means. Couldn’t have wished for a better match for the dear girl.’ He shook Sir Lucius’s hand energetically. ‘To be frank, couldn’t imagine any match for her, really. I mean, you are very welcome to pay her your addresses, but she is of age now, and may make her own choice.’
‘Of that fact I am aware, my lord, but I have hopes that she might be inclined to favour my suit.’
‘Then I will see if she is about. I have not heard of any plans for the ladies to go out this morning. I will send her down to you if you would just wait here. Not a room where you will be interrupted, you see.’
286Sir Lucius nodded, feeling already a little tongue-tied, and Lord Chalford withdrew, asking Ribston to tell Miss Elizabeth that Sir Lucius Radstock wished to speak with her in the library, and himself going to knock upon the door of his wife’s little writing room, where she often spent the morning at her correspondence, or taking a gentle nap. On this occasion she had pen in hand.
‘My dear, I have some news that I think will delight you.’
‘Really? Then tell me, for I have been trying this last half hour to compose a most dreary epistle to your AuntRisborough.’
‘Guess who is in the library?’
‘I have no idea. Why should I have any idea who is in the library?’ Lady Chalford frowned.
‘Sir Lucius Radstock,’ announced her husband, much in the manner of the master of ceremonies announcing the most important guest at a function, ‘and he has just asked my permission to pay his addresses to Elizabeth. There, what do you think to that, my love?’
‘Oh dear,’ cried Lady Chalford, pressing her hand to her cheek. ‘Oh dear me.’
It was not the reaction Lord Chalford had expected.
In the library, Sir Lucius waited, and waited, and waited.
287
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
When the door to the library was eventually opened it was by Ribston at his most impassive, who apologised for Sir Lucius having been kept waiting so long, but said that he had finally ascertained that Miss Ashling was ‘indisposed’ for the morning. Miss Ashling’s presence having been denied him, Sir Lucius withdrew with as good a grace as possible, temporarily disappointed, having worked himself up to a highly nervous state, but in the reasonable expectation that he would be able to put things to the touch in the very near future. It was a pity that she was indisposed this morning. Perhaps the previous evening’s exertions meant that she needed to sleep longer. The image of her face, softened with sleep upon some lace-edged pillow, and her hair tousled, crept into his mind and would not be ousted. It stayed with him all the way home, and even as he mounted the steps to his own front door, which was opened to him by a servant who was quite bemused by the look upon his master’s face. That it had taken so long to288elicit the information concerning this indisposition did not register in the presence of the more overwhelming thought, but slowly a seed of doubt began to germinate. He tried to dismiss it. After all, the last time he had seen her she had been friendly enough. He was pretty near convinced that she felt at the very least some slighttendrefor him. It was an encouraging thought, and just at this moment, encouragement was an important thing.
