Anne Herries - Regency - Mischief & Marriage

‘You hardly look more than nine and thirty, ma’am.’

Lady Sarah laughed and looked pleased, though she denied it. ‘I feel so much older some days. My life has been very quiet until recently. While my husband lived I resided at home in the country, often alone. To have the company of a young lady of your age is a delight for me.’

Eliza hardly knew what to say. She had not considered that she would be so fortunate and found it difficult to realise that she was going to live in such favoured circumstances.

‘Now, if you have finished your tea, I shall ring for Millicent Browne. She is my housekeeper here and she will take you up to your room. Please take your time to refresh yourself after the journey and then come down to me. We have a dinner engagement this evening, but this afternoon is free for us to talk and get to know each other. Dinner this evening is just an informal affair with friends, but I shall send you a gown you may like to wear.’

Eliza thanked her again. A woman came in answer to Lady Sarah’s summons. She was dressed in a plain black gown with a neat lace collar and a gold brooch fastened at the throat. Her bright eyes looked at Eliza curiously, but her manner was welcoming as she led her along the landing and up a short flight of stairs.

‘Her ladyship put you in one of the family rooms, miss. She wanted you close to her apartments so that you could pop in and out when she is resting, as she does some afternoons.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Browne,’ Eliza said. ‘I hope that I shall be of some use and not cause more work for you. I am quite happy to make my bed and keep my room tidy.’

‘Well, that is kind of you, miss. Not all guests are so thoughtful, I can tell you, but it will not be necessary. Her ladyship told us you were to be treated as family, and that’s how it will be.’

‘I must do something to earn my keep.’

‘Your nice manners and cheerful smile will cheer her ladyship and that is all that’s needed, miss.’

Mrs Browne stopped outside a room and opened the door, ushering her inside. The room was very pretty, furnished with satinwood pieces that struck Eliza as being exquisitely made, and the décor was of pink and cream with a touch of crimson here and there.

‘What a beautiful room,’ she exclaimed. ‘I have never had such pretty things. Thank you for giving me such a lovely bedchamber—and roses on the dressing chest. How very kind.’

‘Her ladyship wanted things nice, miss. We are all fond of her and we shall be obliged to you if you can cheer her up—she’s not had a good life.’

‘Oh…’ Eliza wondered what was meant, but was too polite to enquire. It was not for her to gossip about her employer the moment she arrived. ‘I am sorry to hear that. I shall certainly do my best to please.’

Left to herself, Eliza took off her bonnet and pelisse, depositing them on a chair. She ran her fingers over the surface of the beautiful dressing chest and the matching writing table and chair, bending to sniff the roses, which gave off a wonderful perfume. She could not quite believe her good fortune.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she thought about her extraordinary day yesterday. First the hold-up that was not truly a hold-up at all since the highwayman had turned out to be a man she had previously met and was clearly not very skilled at his work. A little smile touched her mouth as she remembered his kiss and her quite inappropriate feelings.

How foolish she was to feel such a strong attraction to a man who would never mean anything to her. She had been very fortunate in securing such a comfortable position and must do nothing to jeopardise her good fortune. If she saw Mr Seaton again, she would be sure to keep her distance, but it was unlikely that he would come to Bath.

And even more unlikely that he would be interested in a mere companion. A man as well connected as Daniel would surely have no trouble attracting a suitable wife. Yet his smile, his concern for her when he knocked her down, the feeling she had when he kissed her, would linger in her mind.

Daniel frowned at himself in the mirror. It would appear that he had made a fool of himself by holding up Cheadle’s carriage. Eliza had travelled alone and was adamant that she was going to be the companion of a lady in Bath. He had felt foolish and angry, and that kiss had been unwise because he had not been able to get her out of his mind since.

An interview with his bank in Bath had revealed that his finances were, if anything, worse than he had imagined. Even if he were prepared to live like a miser and work all the hours of the day and night, he was not sure that he could hang on to the estate. His mind should be focused on his own problems—and his cousin’s death. He could not afford to be thinking of a girl with eyes that made him want to kiss her senseless.

He had come to Bath to hear the worst, but also in search of Cheadle, whom he’d learned was due to stay here. It would be his chance to bargain for the ring and see if he could get anything of worth out of him—and he did not mean money, though the ten thousand his father had lost to the marquis was the cause of his immediate problems.

He had not come to Bath to discover if Miss Eliza Bancroft had been telling him the truth. If they were to meet that would be by the way and of no importance. It would be quite ridiculous if he were to allow himself to be distracted by that impish smile of hers. Quite ridiculous and impossible.

If he were sensible, he would try to find an heiress to marry him, as his uncle had suggested. The notion did not sit well with him, but short of taking up a life on the road he could think of nothing else that would produce enough money to pay those damned mortgages.

Susanne Roberts had been giving him suggestive looks in town when he visited earlier in the Season. He had stayed well clear because he could not imagine himself being tied to such a silly girl. However, beggars could not be choosers. He might bring himself to the point of asking if he could put the memory of Eliza Bancroft’s tantalising mouth from his head.

He had an invitation to dine with the Roberts family in Bath that evening—and it would do no harm to keep the appointment.

‘That lilac silk becomes you well,’ Lady Sarah said as Eliza twirled for her, holding the silk draped across her body. ‘Yes, I like it—and the grey is perfect for small evening affairs. However, you will need a ballgown or perhaps two—and I think you should have white. You may trim them with delicate touches of black lace if you wish, but I think white is perfectly acceptable—do you not agree, Madame Millaise?’

The seamstress nodded her approval. ‘I do not think anyone would take exception to it, milady,’ she said, her accent markedly French despite her excellent grasp of the English language. ‘A discreet touch of black is all that is needed to make it perfectly respectable, non? ’ She looked at Eliza, as if asking a question.

Eliza hesitated, waiting for her employer to speak.

‘Yes, that is my opinion. What do you think, Eliza, my dear?’

‘I will be advised by you and madame ,’ Eliza said, feeling anxious as she looked at the growing pile of silks her employer seemed to feel she needed. ‘Mama particularly told me she did not wish me to wear mourning for more than a few days, but I like the grey and lilac. I should choose those shades at any time. I had not thought of white, but I am sure it will be perfect.’

‘Yes, I believe it will. You are an attractive girl, Eliza, and will pay for dressing.’

Eliza blushed. She had never thought of herself as particularly attractive, though Betty always said it, but wearing good clothes certainly made her feel much more stylish. She had already adapted two evening gowns that her employer had given her from her own wardrobe, one a simple lilac silk, which had had long sleeves. Eliza had removed the long sleeves and made them shorter, trimming them with some heavy cream lace. She had added more lace to the bodice, and, worn with the gold pin that had been her mother’s, the alteration had completely transformed the gown so that even Lady Sarah had not recognised it. The other was grey silk and had very elegant lines. Eliza had merely adjusted the waist and hemline, feeling that she could not improve on its design.