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‘I did and invited him to leave. I never expected him to seek you out and persist with his idiotic proposal or I would have seen him out myself.’
Eliza was trembling. To be accosted in one’s own home, was the very edge of enough. For him to suggest he knew something about her was unbearable.
‘He is an awful man, and what on earth was he talking about? I thought all that ‘mysterious Miss Courtney’ nonsense had passed now. What did he mean?’
‘It has stopped, and it will remain in the past. I assure you. I will call for tea. You look terribly shaken.’
Eliza looked at her brother, a sense of despair creeping over her. ‘Charles, what is going on? What is it that everyone seems to know about me?’
He sighed and took her hand in his. ‘My dear, I wish I could tell you.’
He was wearing his politician’s face and, in that moment, Eliza realised he knew. He was using words cleverly. He wished he could tell her was not the same as he did not know.
Eliza sat beside Mary, accepted a cup of tea, and watched him leave.
Her brother knew. She was sure of it.
Chapter 58
ELIZA
London
Two days later, it was her birthday, and Christmas was making its presence felt, as always, in the icy coldness, the smell of roasting chestnuts and boughs of holly everywhere.
She had awoken to gifts from her family. Gloves from Hannah, a lovely locket from Charles and Mary, a new sewing basket from her mother, and she could barely wait to see what Robert had bought her. He had been terribly secretive.
The breakfast room was decorated with boughs of greenery and tied with red and green ribbons, and everyone was in an excellent mood as they happily talked over each other at the table. Eliza joined in, and although she was trying not to dwell on Lord Somersby and his comments about the mysterious Miss Courtney business, it had kept her awake.
The dishes were cleared, and Mary gathered the staff to finish decorating the house for Christmas. The hallway was magnificent, and the whole house smelled of polish and woodlands. She helped Millie tie a huge bow onto a vase, and from outside they could here church bells and as Mary bustled through singing ‘Oh Come all ye Faithful’ softly to herself, Eliza had to smile.
It made her feel hopeful for all the Christmases to come with Robert, and she tried to concentrate on that and put Somersby’s comments out of her mind.
Haryo and Lord Granville would be married on Christmas Eve, and then they could all enjoy Christmas together. Eliza secretly hoped that she and Robert might announce their betrothal on Christmas Day. If they did, her world would be perfect because she could not think of anything more romantic.
She had not spoken to Haryo since Lord Somersby’s bizarre comments at his proposal, and she hoped to ask her advice when she saw her later, although Haryo knew nothing about the whole mysterious Miss Courtney business either.
Luncheon came and went, but Eliza could not get Somersby’s comments out of her mind, or the fact that Charles’s words seemed to indicate that he did know something, but he couldn’t tell her. She tried telling herself she was refining too much upon it, but by the middle of the afternoon she arrived at a decision.
She was going to ask Charles outright.
Her heart thumped hard in her chest, but she wanted to put this to rest before Christmas. Wanted to be sure that it was not serious, that it was not something that could touch her family, or Robert. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask. If Papa had been involved with someone else, it was ancient news.
She paced some more and wrung her handkerchief this way and that, heart still pounding uncomfortably, then, taking her courage in both hands, tucked her handkerchief away, and strode out to Charles’s study.
She almost turned tail and ran when faced with the study door, but taking a breath, she knocked once, and walked in.
He looked up, startled, pen in hand. ‘Eliza. Is something wrong?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. I fear there may be.’
He put down the pen and came out from behind the desk. ‘Would you like to sit?’ He gestured to the comfortable chairs by the fireside.
Eliza shook her head. ‘No. I just… I just need to say this.’
Her brother looked uneasy. ‘Very well.’
She closed her eyes, took a breath, and opened them. ‘Charles, who are my parents?’
