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Elizabeth swallowed hard. It had been the wrong thing to ask. Like an unstoppable tidal wave, her anxieties surged back. “Will such a change badly affect Lord Bloxley?”
Lord Langton smiled. “You have no need to worry about Bloxley. His is one of the wealthiest families in the region. His bank account will barely feel the dent.” He looked thoughtful. “It seems that quite apart from a substantial allowance that will come to you from the Bloxley Estate, your father, although a younger son, inherited a small estate from his mother, your grandmother. The solicitor will need to look into the inheritance laws, but it is quite possible that it will now come to you.” He shrugged. “Then there is the matter of your mother’s family. I do not know them, but I believe they too are quite affluent, and at some point, they will need to be informed of your survival.”
Elizabeth was beginning to feel ill.
“Bloxley wishes to take you to Bloxley Hall as soon as possible so you can meet his mother. She is the only other surviving relative on your father’s side of the family and should be informed of your return before word reaches anyone else.” He gave her a sidelong look. “Lady Bloxley errs on the side of extravagance and will undoubtedly wish to hold a large celebration in your honor.”
“I remember the drawing room at Claremont House,” Elizabeth said weakly.
He gave a wry smile. “That’s right. I’d forgotten you’ve already seen her taste in decorating.”
Elizabeth pressed her hand against her churning stomach. Finances, inheritances, meeting long-lost family members, introductions into high Society, all the speculation, gossip, and rumors that would attend her for weeks . . . it was too much.
“I do not know that I can do what is expected of me, my lord.”
Lord Langton must have heard something in her voice—a hint of the desperation she was experiencing—because his eyes filled with concern. “You are overwhelmed.”
She nodded, unwilling to trust her voice.
“Miss Allerton, you are by far the most capable and courageous woman I know, but it is perfectly reasonable to allow yourself some limits. Position and wealth bring heavy responsibilities, but they also bring advantages. One of those is that you are granted more freedom to make your own choices.” He kept his eyes on hers. “If no one were to force you onto a certain path, how would you choose to proceed from here?”
Should staying forever in the rose garden with him have been a possibility, she would have had her response. But it was not. She lowered her eyes. If Lord Langton was correct, there had to be a balance between what she was duty bound to do and what her heart whispered would bring her happiness.
“Miss Allerton.” The viscount’s voice was low. He reached out, gently running his fingers across her cheek. “There is too much goodness in you to grossly neglect your responsibilities, so do not worry on that score. There is no right answer to my question, but there may be one that is better than another—one that is best for you. Those who care about you will help you navigate what lies ahead.”
She met his eyes once more. “Will you help me?” she asked.
His fingers stilled, then slowly shifted until he was cupping her face in his hand. Suddenly, her heart was pounding.
“If you will allow it,” he said, “I will be at your side, helping you every step of the way.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “That is the path I choose.”
His lips found hers. At first a gentle whisper, a promise of what was to come. Then he drew her closer, deepening the kiss until she was lost in his arms.
Sometime later, she heard the bird. It was perched close by, its exultant tune a reflection of her newfound joy.
“I believe Master Robin approves of this path,” Lord Langton said, drawing back with a smile that set a hundred internal butterflies free.
She laughed lightly. “That was a blackbird.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead, then slid back on the bench. “I knew that. Kissing you is clouding my thinking.” He gave an exaggerated sigh. “And since you are guilty of putting me in such a state, you will now have to come up with the rest of your plan without my assistance.”
Recognizing his gentle teasing for what it was—a subtle way of encouraging her to make her own choice—Elizabeth attempted to turn her focus from the man to her future.
She could only guess at the magnitude of her responsibilities as a member of the earl’s family, but she was horribly aware of her own shortcomings. She had no training in social protocols and was completely inexperienced in high-Society settings. The fear that she would be an embarrassment to the earl and his mother was as real as the bench she was sitting upon.
“Do you think the earl would be willing to wait a month before introducing me?” she asked.
Lord Langton raised a curious eyebrow. “He can be an impatient fellow, but if you insist upon it, I don’t see how he can refuse. What is a four-week delay after waiting eighteen years?”
When he put it like that, her idea did not seem so outrageous after all.
“What did you have in mind?” he asked.
“I am grossly unprepared to enter the aristocracy. I would not know where to begin at a ball or dinner party or even a social call.” Just the thought of those things caused Elizabeth’s palms to sweat. “But your mother and the Duchess of Kelbrook, they are the epitome of well-bred noblewomen, and I wondered if perhaps . . .”
“They would be willing to coach you,” Lord Langton finished for her, a huge grin on his face. “That, Miss Allerton, is an entirely brilliant suggestion. There is nothing that would bring my sister more pleasure than helping you make a grand entrance into Society.”
