Lord Godmanchester had no intention of taking his lady home at more than a gentle pace, as befitted her condition. He had expected to be confined in a carriage with two ladies who would chatter, but in fact both, for their own reasons, were more inclined to sit in companionable silence. He had bespoken rooms at The Swan, in Bedford, where they would stay the night before finishing the journey the following day. Elizabeth leant back against the squabs and closed her eyes.
‘Is it wrong of me to think “thank goodness”, Helen?’ She broke the silence.
‘No, my dear friend, it is not. After all, you have departed upon the most cordial of terms, and what you are thankful for is the prospect of not being in this stifling metropolis, not parting from your relations.’
‘If that were but entirely true. I am conscious, when in that house, of being a failure, a disappointment.’ Elizabeth sighed. ‘Nothing is said, I grant you, but I feel it nonetheless. At least my aunt can forget that once Amelia is settled.’
‘Your cousin looks likely to make a very happy match.’
‘Oh yes. Carbrooke is a pleasant young man, neither slow-witted nor so intellectual that he will notice that Amelia is … not bookish. They will deal extremely well together, and after a few Seasons in London I have little doubt he will spend most of his time on his estates, and Amelia will settle very contentedly into the role of country lady. She confessed to me that though she was having “a317very nice time” in London, she found it very fatiguing, and would in some ways prefer to be back in Sussex. It wasn’t something she dared admit to her mama, of course.’
‘Oh no. I sometimes think the mamas put so much time and energy into a come-out that they forget that there is anything except the Season.’ Lady Godmanchester giggled, and placed her hand upon the just burgeoning roundness at her waist. ‘If this babe is a girl, remind me of this conversation eighteen years hence.’
Lady Godmanchester, despite the tiring nature of the journey, became quite animated as they neared Thornby Park, in eager anticipation of seeing her son, wondering how much he had grown, and with all her natural maternal instincts to the fore. It was easy for Elizabeth to let her rattle on, and to contemplate a few weeks of rest, before addressing how she should set about setting up her own establishment.
Unfortunately for Elizabeth, she found that whilst her host and hostess made every disposition for her comfort, rest of the body was not mirrored by rest of the mind. She told herself that this was because the only person she could think of as a companion at Dowlands was an elderly cousin of her mama’s, and one with whom she had nothing in common, for Cousin Jane’s ‘nerves’ made her a permanent semi-invalid and she considered even going out to church an expedition. The alternative, and it was unpalatable, was returning to live several more years at Marden, and, with Amelia married, the far younger company of her cousin Anne. Like it or not, she knew her aunt felt her318spinsterhood as a blemish, and for all her kind affection, would never cease to bemoan it. She had gone to London reluctantly, thinking that life at Marden would suffice her until she was able to live alone, forgetting how it would be without Amelia’s companionship, and London had ruined everything.
The truth was that even the anticipation of life at Dowlands now seemed a pale limbo. She had thought herself safe, but then one man had breached her security, robbed her of her equilibrium. She never wanted to see him again, for if she gave in, he would break her heart. That her heart whimpered that it was broken already just showed how weak a heart could be.
She wandered Thornby Park like some unsettled ghost, and though her hand began to heal and the pain died away, she had little appetite for either food or activity. Riding was not feasible until such time as her hand could bear the pull of a rein upon it, and Lady Godmanchester’s walks were, given her natural tiredness, mere ambles within the grounds. Elizabeth even found the Godmanchesters’ connubial contentment hard to bear. The sight of them exchanging looks where the other need not speak brought home her isolation to her. She told herself that Helen had achieved a miracle, and found a true and honest man. Lucius Radstock was not as worthy, since he had already shown his false colours. For every moment that the thought of him crept into her mind, and the dream of what it would be like to share her life with him, there was the counter, the numbing reality of that moment when the world fell apart, and there was nothing but the abyss. She had faced it twice,319the more fool she, and she was not to be duped again. Her heart had told her to trust, and where had that got her? If her heart yearned now for the tall figure with the beguiling eyes, her head told her that from a third betrayal there was no returning.
For the first week, Lord Godmanchester studiously avoided any mention of his friend in conversation when Elizabeth was present. It was remarkably difficult, since he and Sir Lucius were planning on going to Newmarket for the races in a few weeks’ time, and besides, so many things involved him.
‘I nearly ruined everything over dinner,’ he bemoaned, as he sat in his wife’s bedchamber, while her maid laid the final touches to her bedtime toilette. With a word of thanks the servant was dismissed, and he came to lean over her, smiling into the mirror and massaging the muscles of her elegant neck.
‘Mmm, don’t stop, Giles.’
‘How long must it go on?’
‘Until the muscles relax, my love.’ Lady Godmanchester almost purred.
‘Not this, madam. Pretending Lucius doesn’t exist.’
‘You know, she is not happy.’
‘Even a mere man can see that.’
‘I would never describe you as a “mere man”, my lord.’
‘Ah, not while I can provide this service.’
She reached up a hand to stroke his cheek. ‘You provide everything I need, always.’
He turned his head to press a kiss into her palm.
320‘Would you stay tonight, Giles?’
‘I thought, in view of your condition …’
‘I am not sure of, well, that, but I would like you to hold me. I want to fall asleep in your arms.’
He responded huskily, and for a while Lucius and Elizabeth were forgotten, but before she fell asleep, Helen remembered the abandoned conversation.
‘I think poor Elizabeth is torn.’
‘Mmm? Sorry, you are mumbling into my chest, dearest.Say that again.’
‘I said’ – she raised her head onto his shoulder and blew into his ear – ‘that poor Elizabeth is torn. I am convinced she has feelings for him, strong feelings, but she does not trust them. It makes me wretched to think of her so miserable.’
