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First, because he knew exactly why Eliza was dubbed mysterious, why she was not styled Lady Eliza, and why she was so often overlooked. He had not told her because it was not his story to tell, and the truth had the potential to devastate two families, but if there was to be anything between them… what was he supposed to do? His loyalties must lie with his bride to be, and that would come at a cost.

Second… he sighed. Second, he had to work out a way to share with her secrets in a way that meant that she might view the position with a modicum of sympathy, if not for him, then…

Harriet arrived at his side, almost like his guilty conscience manifest.

‘Are you looking forward to Eliza’s ball?’

He smiled down at her. ‘I’m sure it will be delightful.’

‘I wonder if this will stir up all the mysterious Miss Courtney speculation again.’

‘I fear you may be right, but perhaps we simply need to offer our support rather than trying to find answers for her at this point in time?’

‘What do you mean?’

Granville stifled a sigh. ‘I suspect there will be a resurgence of interest, but a scandal is the last thing Eliza needs right now. Seeking answers will simply set people gossiping. Sometimes, my love, discretion is the better part of valour.’

Harriet rolled her eyes, as he suspected she might.

‘I’m not saying that questions are not in order. I’m saying it may be a question of timing?’ he said and watched as she digested this notion. He saw her frustration at the realisation that he was right. Pursing the gossip and trying to find a resolution now would not support Eliza. Quite the opposite.

‘Perhaps you are right,’ she said with no small amount of umbrage. ‘Very diplomatic of you.’

He grinned at her. ‘Well, I am a diplomat…’

‘And you so rarely let us forget it with all the wisdom you dispense.’

‘Will you save me a dance tonight,’ he murmured, feeling it best to change the subject before she got the bit between her teeth again.

‘I might.’

With that, she glided to the other side of the room. He watched with a quietly gathering sense of catastrophe.

Chapter 42

ELIZA

London

The day of the ball arrived, and Eliza could not sleep. She sat in front of her looking glass in the early hours as the rising sun painted the world in shades of gold and apricot, wondering what the day would bring.

Her braided fair hair hung over one shoulder, but as always, she had a halo of escaped hair that sat like a cloud about her head. Millie would be with her soon to turn her from an urchin to a lady of quality so that she could sail forth into the coming day, and, more importantly, the evening, with confidence and poise. At the moment, she felt more like the urchin she saw before her than a young lady in her first season.

Her thoughts drifted to Robert, who, despite his promise, had not yet returned to London. Or if he had, had not told her so. Today was the ball where she would be on show. Where she should try to attract a rich, titled husband. When she thought of all the work that had gone into ensuring she had this opportunity, butterflies invaded her stomach because all thoughts of finding a husband began and ended with Robert.

He had settled himself firmly in her heart and refused to budge. She pulled open the drawer on her dresser and took out the little notebook she had bought when she arrived in London, in which she intended to compose her list of eligible gentlemen. She opened it. There was just one name. Lieutenant Colonel Robert Ellice. No-one else had even made the list.

It seemed like forever since she had seen him, but he wrote all the time, and for a quiet man, he wrote the most wonderful letters. He seemed to have no problem at all chatting away about his day, about what he had done, about how much he missed her. He always asked about her day, about her thoughts, her opinions and not only that, he remembered what she had said. Cared about what she thought.

She picked up the bundle of letters tied together in a white bow and held them to her lips, where she kissed them softly.

For a quiet man, he kissed like an angel.

In his most recent letter, he had written to tell her that although he was visiting his mama and aunt in Scarborough, he would be back for her come-out ball.

Yet today was the day of the ball, and there was no sign of him.

A tap at the door sounded, and she looked up, expecting to see Millie, but it was Hannah who crept into the room, still in her nightgown and robe.