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Footsteps in the hallway made Liz’s heart stop dead in her chest.
‘He’s here, isn’t he?’ Georgiana whispered, face still hidden, breathing in the scent of her child.
Liz could only nod, even though Georgiana couldn’t see her.
‘Is it Charles? Is he here? Perhaps he will speak to me. Listen to me?’
Liz didn’t think for a moment that Charles Grey MP would arrive in person to take charge of his child.
The footsteps came closer. Up the stairs and along the corridor until the door was flung open and an imposing, middle-aged gentleman in a caped riding coat stood in the door. He walked into the room, followed by two grim-faced female servants.
He took in the scene before him with a disapproving frown. No doubt he had expected the child to be handed over to him by a servant. Not that he must face the agony of the mother from whom the child was to be removed.
He bowed, but it was a mean parody of a bow. ‘Your Grace,’ he murmured. ‘I will take the child now.’
Georgiana clutched Eliza to her chest and Liz ached at the anguish on her beloved face, at the tears threatening to fall. She looked so young, so afraid, and so unspeakably miserable. How could anyone look at that face and take her child?
‘So soon? Surely not so soon?’ Georgina begged. ‘Wouldn’t you allow a mother some time with her child? Time to hold her, to know her?’
Liz couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks or the trembling of her chin at the sight of her pleading. She knew what the answer would be.
The man nodded to the women beside him, and they went to take Eliza.
‘I beg you, just one more day. One more day to call her mine?’
The woman tried to drag her away, but Georgiana clung to the child, so Liz swept by them and climbed onto the bed beside Georgiana and put an arm about her shoulders.
She spoke quietly, softly. ‘Come, love, don’t hurt her. Charles has arranged the very best for her, just as he promised. You will see her again before long. Come, shall I give her the locket?’
Liz saw the moment Georgiana’s heart broke. Saw it in her eyes, in her tears, in the slump of her body that bespoke defeat as she pressed a last desperate kiss on the downy softness of Eliza’s head and let her take the child from her arms.
‘Please see this is given to the child’s father.’ Liz took the package that contained a letter, a poem, and a locket containing a lock of Eliza’s hair, and a lock from each of her parents.
The man put it into his pocket, before lifting the sleeping child from Georgiana’s arms, jostling her and making her cry out.
They heard Eliza’s fading cries all the way through the house as they descended the stairs through to the front door. Liz feared Georgiana would never recover.
Chapter 2
ELIZA
Aix-en-Provence – Two months later
Liz joined Georgiana in the small drawing room and sat down on the chair opposite her.
‘How are you, love?’
Georgiana gave her a weak smile. ‘Well enough. Have you heard anything from him?’
Liz lifted the letter in her hand but had no answering smile to offer. Two months they’d been waiting to hear from her husband, the duke. Two months since little Eliza had gone.
‘He’s replied.’ She said.
‘Can I go home?’
Liz wanted to weep. ‘Not yet, darling.’
Georgiana stared out of the window for a moment, face expressionless. ‘Does he say why?’
