Kate Pearce - Educating Elizabeth

"Mother said that you had left the city," Mary said breathlessly, her blue eyes shining, her hands clasping Elizabeth's. "Where on earth have you been? You must promise to tell me all about it."

Before Elizabeth could muster a reply, a gloved hand gripped Mary's arm. "Mary, come away now."

Elizabeth's throat tightened as she registered the disdain on her mother's averted face.

"Mother..." Elizabeth whispered but her mother refused to spare her a glance, her rigid attention all on Mary.

"Mama, it is Elizabeth," Mary said slowly.

"You are mistaken. We must go, Mary."

Mrs. Forester's fingers tightened on Mary's arm and she began to turn away. In desperation, Elizabeth reached out to touch her mother's shoulder. Her hand was shaken off and Mrs. Forester hissed between her teeth.

"I don't know how you have the nerve to show yourself in here. What do you think it will do to Mary's reputation if she is seen conversing with the likes of you? You know she is to make her debut this Season. Have you no shame?"

Elizabeth recoiled as though her mother had slapped her and she bumped against the solid form of Nicholas Gallion.

With one hand pressed to her heated cheek, Elizabeth watched her mother's hurried withdrawal. Waves of humiliation made her wish the ground would open up and swallow her. She cast a hasty glance around, convinced everyone was staring at her.

"Mrs. Waterstone, are you all right?"

She barely made out Nicholas's concerned voice through the roaring in her ears. His arm came around her waist and the next thing she knew she was outside in the cold air propped against the windowsill.

"Wait here," he commanded.

She didn't bother to reply, being too busy trying not to cry. Nicholas returned in an instant and she allowed him to escort her into the carriage. She made no effort to converse with him on the journey back to the duke's house and instead stared out of the window, seeing nothing. She struggled to keep her lips from trembling as she pictured her mother's disgust and Mary's confusion. Was she really such a pariah? If only she could explain...

As the carriage drew to a halt, she didn't wait for Nicholas to assist her out. She bolted up the steps, past a surprised Standish, and into the house, seeking her bedroom and the privacy to cry.

Gervase knocked softly on the door of Miss Waterstone's bedroom and, receiving no reply, knocked again, harder. The door opened a crack and he pushed it inward, letting himself fully into the room and closed it behind him.

Elizabeth was a pitiful sight. Unlike most of his previous mistresses, she didn't posses the ability to cry beautifully. Her nose was red, her eyes puffy and all the color had leached from her face, leaving her a little wan ghost in her sophisticated black gown. She lifted her reddened eyes to his, swallowed convulsively, and went to rub her nose on her sleeve.

With a sigh, for he had many urgent matters to attend to, Gervase handed her his large linen handkerchief. She blew her nose loudly and defiantly and then attempted to pass the crumpled fabric back to him. He waved her offer aside.

Keeping her in his sights, he crossed the room, poured a glass of water, and brought it back to her. "Nicholas said that something happened to upset you."

Her slight nod confirmed his statement. Gervase sat down and pulled her onto his lap. She wrung his handkerchief between her fingers.

"It was my mother??she gave me the cut direct." Gervase said nothing and kept his face politely blank until she continued, her voice harsh with unshed tears. "She would not allow my half-sister to acknowledge me, either."

"You must have known this might happen. Your mother denied you the house as soon as she found out." He paused as her knuckles whitened on the handkerchief. "So why are you crying about it now?"

She got to her feet, wrapped her arms around her waist and presented him with her straight back. "Because I didn't think she meant it. I thought she spoke in anger or in fear of my stepfather." She turned around, the devastation in her eyes unmistakable. "But she didn't. She really doesn't want to acknowledge me."

Gervase felt an unexpected pang of sympathy, which he ruthlessly suppressed. It made him speak more harshly than he had perhaps intended to.

"I told you that your family might find your choice of profession unacceptable. If you had listened to me before you embarked on this ridiculous scheme you might have avoided all this unnecessary weeping."

Her chin came up and he silenced an impulse to applaud her returning courage.

"I'm not asking you to feel sorry for me, Your Grace." She sniffed. "In truth, I don't remember asking you for any help at all."

Gervase stared back at her. "That's good because I'm not offering you any. You made your choices, now you must live with them. 'In truth,'" he mimicked her precise tone, "the old English proverb fits you well, does it not? You have made your bed and now you must lie in it." He shrugged "My bed, your bed, or any other place that I deem fit."

Her gray eyes flashed fire then and for a fleeting moment he wondered where his dueling pistols were. He tensed, ready to repel any attack, but to his relief, she merely drew in a deep breath.

"You are right. I'm a fool." She blew her nose hard and wiped away all traces of her tears. "I've no reason to complain about her treatment of me. She is only doing what any mother would to protect her remaining daughter."

Gervase wondered about Mrs. Forester's reasons for treating Elizabeth so. Nick had told him that the younger girl was to enjoy a Season. It seemed Mr. Forester had suddenly come into enough money to pay for it. For the first time in a long while, Gervase's instincts were at war with his conscience. Part of him wanted to keep Elizabeth away from the Foresters at any cost and yet he knew she might be able to get valuable information for him. But he could not allow his emotions to rule him. He placed his hand in the small of Elizabeth's back and guided her into the chair opposite his.

"You must calm yourself, my dear. All is not lost. You still have your mother's invitation to visit her for tea."

"Do you really think she will honor it after our unfortunate meeting?"

Gervase was sure of it. He hoped Mr. Forester was aware of the obligation too, or Gervase would be demanding payment of his debt in full. "Of course she will. If you doubt your welcome, I will accompany you."

A faint trace of alarm crossed Elizabeth's features and Gervase stiffened. Did she fear his intrusion into her former life?

"Thank you for the offer, Your Grace, but I think I would rather go alone. My mother is already embarrassed by me and perhaps, by bringing my..." she blushed and looked away, "...by bringing you with me, it might make matters worse."

He nodded and rose to his feet, willing to accept her explanation for now and anxious to convince her to attend her mother. If she were determined to go by herself it would probably be for the best. In truth, he admired her for it. Despite his bracing words and her apparent acceptance of the situation, Gervase knew firsthand how a family could wound a person in ways too deep to heal. To his surprise, his little brown bird was proving to be both resilient and full of courage.

He took her hand in his and kissed her palm, open mouthed. "May I suggest you change your clothes and bathe? You will surely feel better then." He allowed the tip of his tongue to circle her warm skin. "If you don't wish to dine downstairs, a tray can be brought up to you."

She slipped out of his grasp, her composure firmly in place again. "I will be perfectly fine, Your Grace." She moved toward the door in a subtle invitation that he should leave. "I'm sure that you have a thousand more important things to do than bother yourself with me."