Three Months Later
Eloise and Adamwere married in a quiet ceremony the day before Annabel and Ezra’s lavish affair. She wore green and had flowers in her hair. He wore black and didn’t take his eyes off the bride for a single second.
Lenora and Bridget both cried. Annabel refused to shed a tear for fear of having puffy eyes forherwalk down the aisle, but two weeks later, when Eloise left Clarenmore Park for Adam’s neighboring estate, she surprised everyone by sobbing in earnest.
“I’m only moving a mile away,” Eloise pointed out.
“But then you’re traveling to Boston,” Annabel wailed.
“We’ll be back for Christmas.” She patted her sister awkwardly on the shoulder. “I thought you’d be happy to see me go.”
That just made Annabel cry harder.
“I did too,” she wept, and had to be held by her husband so that Eloise could make a quick escape out the door.
“Trouble?” Adam asked when she joined him in the carriage.
“Sisters,” she replied.
Moving in together–blending two lives, two histories, twoverystubborn personalities–was not without its pitfalls, but they managed well enough. Neither was afraid to let the other know exactly how they were feeling, and after cooler heads were allowed to prevail they inevitably found themselves in their bedroom. Or on the dining room table. Or in the stables. Or the attic. Come to think of it, there wasn’t a room theyhadn’tmade love…except for the broom closet under the stairs, but that wasn’t for lack of trying.
They both enjoyed walking, and would traverse the bridle paths around the estate for hours conversing on any matter of topics. From children (they both wanted to wait, or perhaps not have them at all), to traveling (they’d decided to start with four months in America and eight in England), to business (Eloise had a few opinions on the commerciality of electricity). The only topic that was regularly avoided?
Adam’s family.
To be precise, the fact that he’d yet to confront his father.
“You have to speak with him,” Eloise said late one night when they were curled up in bed. “It’s the entire reason you came here in the first place.”
“I came here to find you,” he said, idly running his fingers along the length of her arm.
“You came hereandyou found me. Those are two different things.” She sat up against her pillow. “Avoiding your feelings and not confronting your demons doesn’t make them disappear. Trust me, I know.”
“Eloise–”
“Adam.”
“Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent. We’ll go together.”
And they did. On a rainy day in the beginning of autumn, they showed up unannounced at the private London residence of Lord Denbigh and after waiting in the parlor for nearly an hour, were ushered into his office where he sat behind an imposing mahogany desk the size of a small ship.
“We can save the theatrics,” he said, ignoring Eloise and leveling his dark, squinty eyes at Adam. “I know who you are. I’ve known for some time. How much will your discretion cost? Name a figure, and be on your way.”
Eloise placed a reassuring hand on Adam’s leg when she felt him tense. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “I’m right here.”
“I don’t want your money,” he told the earl coldly. “I’ve never wanted it.”
“What, then? Why have you come here?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure anymore.” Adam leaned back in his chair. “Recognition, perhaps. Of what you did to my mother. What you put her through.”
“She was no one,” Lord Denbigh said dismissively. He rose from his chair and walked around to the front of his desk to tower over them. “A maid. A servant. Just like you’re no one. You’re not my true son. You’renothing. You’re–”
Eloise sprang from her seat and her clenched fist flew through the aid, landing squarely on the earl’s cheek and whipping his head to the side. With a grunt, he toddled backwards, slammed into a cabinet, and then crumpled slowly to the carpeted floor, a wheeze of air pushing itself out of his lungs on a high-pitched, tinny whistle like a kettle on boil.
